Chapter X. 1953
CHAPTER X
“The Purity Ball. It’s perfect.”
Sharon quirked her mouth to the side—a poor attempt to keep herself from laughing.
“The Purity Ball? What’s that, some sort of debutante ball for virgins?
” She pretended to bring a monocle to her eye.
“Oh, look darling, it’s the Morrison girl.
I’ve heard she’s never even seen her own breasts, isn’t that smashing? ”
Mary tugged a strand of that curling blond hair and tried not to lose herself in the sight of Sharon’s neck arching.
“Don’t joke. It’s actually very sweet. It’s a ceremony where girls promise their fathers to stay pure until marriage.
And fathers promise their daughters to protect them until they find their husbands.
I did mine when I was eleven. Someone spiked the punch, and my father said he never laughed so hard as he did watching me fall all over myself that night. ”
Sharon wrinkled her nose. “Eleven? It sounds a little creepy.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “You won’t have to participate.
This is my chance to show you Hawthorne Springs at the height of glamour.
Besides”—she tugged Sharon’s hair tighter—“everyone is distracted that night. The ladies trot out their daughters, and everyone gossips about which designers did everyone’s dresses.
There’s a little reception with canapés and champagne before the actual ceremony that’s just for the fathers and daughters.
Once the ceremony starts, all the women head home to drink more champagne and gossip some more.
And while they’re wagging their tongues hard enough to drop out of their heads, I could give you my own personal tour. ”
“I dream about you in moonlight. Crowned in stars. Like a goddess. Hecate incarnate.”
“Don’t you talk poetry to me, Sharon Hutchins. Say you’ll come. Please?” Mary dropped her gaze and batted her eyelashes.
Sharon offered her an indulgent smile. “Fine, but only if you promise not to sell me off to the highest-bidding bachelor.”
“He’d have to outbid me first.”
This was how they navigated their world. Normalcy hidden behind walls and doors. Pretending as if the freedom they found away from prying eyes was the same freedom they could have in public. As if judgment couldn’t touch them.
The weeks passed quickly, and Mary distracted herself with work and planning her gown for the Purity Ball reception and the baby.
She’d not seen or heard from Vera since the night of the Bible study.
She tried to call, but the phone rang and rang, and the two times she dared to actually show up at Vera’s door, her knocks went unanswered.
Then the letter she mailed was returned, and she didn’t know what else to do.
She felt Vera’s absence keenly, a sharp edge that would not dull.
But Vera would be at the Purity Ball. It was practically a sin not to be there. Mary would talk to her then. Apologize until her throat went sore.
By the night of the Purity Ball, Mary couldn’t bring herself to eat anything more than a bite or two of whatever meal she placed on the table.
Her mother would marvel at her devotion if she’d seen her anxiety disguised as restraint.
Would tell her how lovely she looked in her emerald taffeta, her waist cinched over the full skirt.
Even Robert noticed, his hands cupping her rib cage as he brushed his lips over her cheek. “My tiny girl. Try not to float away from me tonight,” he said.
Out of nervousness, she waited until the last possible moment to tell him she’d invited a friend from work.
Over breakfast, she mentioned in passing she had a friend interested in The Path and she had invited her to the reception.
Absorbed in his coffee and paper, he asked her no questions.
Outside of an initial introduction, she wouldn’t have to worry too much about him.
He’d have his own diversions during the Ball.
Talk of work and golf and money as the women spoke of whatever frothy things they spoke of at parties.
Sharon agreed to drive up from the city since it was the only thing that would guarantee she could leave whenever she wanted.
“No slumber parties for me. I refuse to sleep on some trundle bed while your husband snores next to you,” she said with a wry smile.
It rankled, how every joke was a hurtful truth.
They left the baby at home with Robert’s mother, silence stretching between them as Robert fiddled with the radio and complained they would be late.
“We won’t miss anything. They’ve never started the reception on time,” she reassured him. He frowned and punched the accelerator.
By the time they came careening into the lot, there were still groups milling about outside. Pastel gatherings of organza and tulle with their suited, gel-slicked husbands.
“See?” she said, smiling, and Robert slid out to open her door.
She’d told Sharon to come late. Ten minutes, fifteen, if possible.
Easier to have her come after everyone had already downed their first few sips of champagne, the mood looser and easier than the initial, sober evaluations that came with everyone’s arrival.
Easier to sneak away and find a quiet spot where she could learn what Sharon’s bare skin looked like pressed against the earth.
By the time they finally filed inside, Mary felt as if she might crawl out of her own body.
She accepted a glass of champagne as she scanned the faces of those around her, hoping to catch Vera’s eye, but she didn’t see her.
Didn’t even see Gerry standing there with his chubby, flushed cheeks—embarrassed to be attending the Purity Ball without his wife.
She’ll be here, she thought as she lowered her gaze and told herself not to gulp the champagne down in a single swallow.
She squeezed Robert’s hand, hoping he didn’t notice how damp her palm was.
“I left my lipstick in the car,” she said.
“I’ll just run out and grab it before the reception gets in full swing. ”
“Can’t have that, can we?” He stepped away from her, his arm already raised to call Montgomery Palmer over. He’d already forgotten her. Just another skirt among the others, caught up in the importance of her own appearance. A gilded plaything given permission to wander.
She hurried outside. What if Sharon decided not to come, after all? What if she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, that Mary wasn’t worth the trouble, and left the dress she bought hanging in the closet, the tags still attached so she could return it the following week?
But Sharon was there, leaning against her car in a demure dress of cobalt blue with a matching pearled capelet draped over her shoulders.
“You look exactly like a girl waiting to be picked up for the dance,” Mary said.
Sharon twirled. “You may kiss me on the cheek as good friends or sisters do.”
Mary did so, her heart fluttering to know how near Sharon was to this other life. This other self she knew so intimately and had carried with her since girlhood, but Sharon had not seen. These two disparate selves suddenly thrown together. She wondered again if this all was a mistake.
“Right then.” Sharon clapped her hands together. “Show me this glamorous church. And the virgins! Take me to the virgins!”
They passed the sanctuary, taking only a moment to peek inside at the glimmering altar before hurrying to the reception pavilion, where the light notes of restrained cocktail-hour jazz floated.
“No hymns?” Sharon pressed a hand to her chest. “How progressive.”
“You’re awful,” Mary said, and then together, they stepped outside where the reception had already reached a volume that spoke of two, if not three, glasses of passed champagne.
The women and their daughters gathered like swans here and there, their feathers fluffed and proudly on display as they cut their eyes at the others who stood nearby.
“Holy Mother. I’ve certainly never seen jewelry like this at any church I’ve been to before,” Sharon said, jutting her chin at the nearest group of women.
“I’ve seen them all drunk. Bible study, if you can believe it,” she said, even as she remembered that Vera should be standing with them. She’d been right then. Vera had not come.
Mary’s face went hot, and she very much wanted to cry, but she bit down on her tongue. She could worry about Vera any other time. Tonight was for Sharon alone.
She led Sharon from group to group, the already tipsy women chattering over one another as they complimented Sharon’s dress, her hair, the little golden ring she wore on her right hand.
“Utterly charming. I’ve never been able to wear gold, myself.
And what a shame. Gary got me the most gorgeous necklace for our anniversary, and I simply cannot wear it without turning into a human pincushion.
Tiny little pinpricks everywhere,” Hester said before reaching out to squeeze Sharon’s hands.
“I’m so glad our Mary brought you tonight.
What a blessing it is to lead those blinded by the world back to the righteous path. ”
Mary watched as Sharon stiffened, but her smile never faded. “Thank you. You’ve all been so lovely.”
“Mary, you must trot her over by the canapés and introduce her to Clifton. I think I spied him over there.” Hester threw a conspiratorial wink at Sharon. “A banker, you know, and single.”
Sharon arched a brow, her mouth opening, but Mary tugged at her elbow. “Didn’t you mention you needed to visit the powder room, Sharon?”
“I don’t recall. Perhaps if I was married—”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Mary said, pulling Sharon away.
“Wonderful to meet you!” Sharon called over her shoulder. “Be sure to send Clifton my best!”
“I ought to pull your hair. You wicked, wicked thing,” Mary said once they were safely out of earshot.
“It would certainly save Clifton the trouble, but I would much prefer if you pulled it.” She leaned close, her mouth pressed against Mary’s ear as if she was relating a secret. “I don’t need the powder room, but I could use some air. It’s gotten dark. And no one’s looking.”
Mary felt her blood heat as an aching heaviness built slowly in her abdomen.
Before she could convince herself she shouldn’t, Mary took Sharon’s hand and pulled her away from the candlelit glow of the pavilion and into the woods that slept beyond. No one saw them go.
“I used to sneak off and come back here when I was a little girl. There was this enormous tree. A black walnut. Branches stretching out every which way, and in the spring, when it bloomed, it smelled like oranges and pine. Almost like Christmas. I would tear the blooms off and rub them all over me. If the sermon got boring, I’d tell my mother I was going to the restroom and go stand underneath it instead.
She whipped me when she realized what I was doing, but coming out here …
it was better than church. Holier, somehow. ”
Sharon nodded. Of course she understood. It was what she worshipped. “Will you show it to me? The tree?”
Still holding Sharon’s hand, Mary led her farther into the woods, the path coming back to her as if she’d never stopped walking it. As if, after all this time, it was still waiting for her.
When they stepped into the clearing where the tree stood, Sharon gasped and then laughed. “There’s old magic here. No wonder you loved it. It’s like a heart beating.”
They made their way to the tree, hand in hand, and stood beneath it, crowned in its leaves as Sharon kissed Mary’s palms, her eyes starry with tears.
“I would marry you here. If things weren’t…” Sharon let the words die out. There was no need to say them. To bring such hurt into this sacred place.
Mary leaned her forehead against Sharon’s. Let herself rest and pretend they were newly born. Free of expectation. Free of anything that was not cleaving to the other.
Sharon pulled the little gold ring from her finger and pushed it onto Mary’s.
“I don’t have anything to give you,” she said, and Sharon pressed her fingers against Mary’s heart.
“You already have.”
They fell into each other then, all mouths and touch, and Mary wondered how they did not burst into flame. How the earth did not tremble beneath them.
Sharon pressed her against the tree, and Mary wished she could take it all into her. The tree, the earth, the sky, the cold burn of Sharon’s touch. If only it would mean she never had to go without it.
“I love you. I love you,” she said again and again. A prayer offered up to a faceless, ancient god as Sharon traced her tongue along her collarbone. And then a tight groan as her fingers slipped inside.
They did not see the dark form that entered the clearing. They forgot they were not the only ones who might want to be alone that night.
Vera paused as she watched Mary and Sharon. And then, still unseen, she stole back into the darkness.