A Woman so Bold by L.S. Young Page A

right, I didn’t.”
    Colleen jumped a bit at this uncharacteristic display of language from my father, but she made no protest. I suppose it occurred to her that he was showing off for our visitor.
    As was his wont to do, Daddy left the subject alone until we had begun on dessert, then brought it up unsolicited. Dumping a spoonful of sugar into his coffee and stirring it with unwarranted vigor, he said, “No dockworker from the river is good enough for one of my girls.” Coffee sloshed over the side of his cup onto the yellowed lace tablecloth that was reserved for company and holidays. “Especially my Lily. She’s too handsome and oughta set her cap a good deal higher.”
    Lily and I both winced at this, for different reasons. I felt that Daddy was calling unnecessary attention to the stark difference in our looks, and Lily, mostly oblivious to her own appearance, had never learned to take a compliment. I was often baffled by how anyone so lovely could lack vanity entirely. There was always something to dislike; the sun made freckles pop out on her nose, her teeth were too large, her knees were too knobby.
    After lunch, Daddy and Mr. Cavendish set off toward the porch to drink mint juleps and smoke, a gentleman’s pastime I loathed because it separated me from all interesting conversation. Lily and I resigned ourselves to the drudgery of dishes, but when we were finished, I crept to the front window they were sitting beneath, which was loose in its casing, and set my ear to the crack. Emboldened by whiskey, my father and our visitor were doing nothing to keep their voices low, and I could discern snatches of their conversation.
    “So! Do you have plans to marry in the future?” This came from Daddy.
    “Eventually,” said William, but . . . only twenty-eight.”
    Daddy laughed. “Bachelorhood. It can be quite lonely . . . cookin’ your own meals and scrubbin’ . . . clothes.”
    A laugh from William this time.
    “So when . . . to settle down,” said Daddy, “either of mine might do you very well.”
    William’s reply to this was unintelligible. I rolled my eyes. Daddy had been trying to sell me off for years. Lily was practically a child, but he disliked her beau, so he took any opportunity to introduce her to other men, even ones nearly twice her age. I often reminded him that it was Colleen’s job to find us husbands.
    “Lily is the beauty. But she’s young, a bit frivolous. Landra is rather plain, but she’s dependable. She’ll stand by you.”
    “She’s got vim and vigor,” said William.
    My father’s voice rose an octave at this, and his rocker creaked as he stood. “She does that! She’ll give you a run for your money, by golly! Why just the other day I . . .”
    I did not catch the rest of this and felt myself reddening. Could he be referencing when he had beaten me for my insolence? There was any number of instances he might be referring to in which we had disagreed.
    “And she can sing to beat the band! I’ll ask her to sing for us next time you visit, if we can talk her round to it.”
    It was to Will’s credit that Daddy was already treating him as a future acquaintance.
    “I like a fiery woman.” William stood as well, and I crouched down, flattening against the wall. Their booted footfalls were heavy on the porch floor as they made their way to the front door.
    “Well, that sort does fine for a young man,” Daddy was saying as he entered the breezeway. “My first wife was spirited, but she had a lady-like way about her that hid it. Landra wears her spirit on her sleeve.”
    I busied myself straightening books in the corner as the two of them entered the sitting room.
    “Enjoy your drink?” I asked.
    “Very much,” said William.
    “Pour us another one, Landra girl. The decanter is on the mantle there.”
    “Oh, thank you, sir, but I shouldn’t. I really must be going.”
    William made as if to hand me his glass. When I did not take it, he set it on the mantle next to the