protective man still in his eyes. “Can I ask you something?” he asked.
“Okay.”
“How’s your story coming?” It sounded like a casual question, but I knew it wasn’t.
“I gave my newspaper some introductory sections about the house, about making it livable…”
“About her disappearance?” he asked. “About her things in the attic?”
I understood his concern. I had it too. We were about to open a whole new facet of my adventure in this house, one that ran much deeper than I’d expected to know or tell. I didn’t know what Julianne was about to tell us, and I didn’t know if it would be shared with the world. Whereas my family wanted to protect their reputations, Kyle and I wanted to defend a woman we believed was wrongly accused. “I only introduced her disappearance. Gave a flavor of her. That’s all.”
He nodded and aligned the notes in front of him. I returned my fingers to the keys and looked at him. He nodded. He read, I typed, and Julianne finally began to take form.
****
Genesis is for beginnings, but this marked my end. What came about for me has been told behind closed doors and whispered behind hands. It has been fabricated and repeated and not once taken from my own mouth or heart…until now. Though the truth will most likely remain untold, this is my story. This is mine to tell.
Chicago had been my home for well nigh half a year. It was a city of light, of strong breezes, of danger, of excitement, and of love. I’d never tasted such living as I did on its crowded streets. I’d never shared so much with friends, never known Henrietta the way I came to know her then, and never understood John, her brother, until that wonderful time.
The first time I saw him, or at least the first time I recall him, we were but children. He was Henrietta’s older brother, a playmate, one who was kind and patient with us, but who still kept to his governing role as the elder and wiser. This time when I saw John he was more. His eyes, the way his hand took mine, the way he smiled, smelled, and spoke. This was the second time I saw him, and nearly the last.
When I was summoned back home, I exited the train full of excitement and promise, happy to see my family again and joyfully knowing I had great news for them. Secret news, surrounded by silly superfluities only a young woman can appreciate. My excited hugs fell upon mummified beings, their arms stiff and cold as they accepted my happy reunion. “They don’t understand my gaiety yet,” I told myself on our way home. “They will soon, and their hugs will change. They’ll be dancing with me too.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen this man who was waiting for us, but it was the first time he registered in my consciousness. Standing like a brittle statue at our door, Isaac Crouse watched us dismount from our wagon and come to the house. His eyes were on me, though he spoke to my father. My father answered him with a muffled tone while Isaac stared after me. Then he went away.
We settled ourselves around the table, a meager fare prepared for my homecoming. They were quiet, too quiet, and I couldn’t stand their sullenness any longer. “I have news,” I announced. Pained expressions passed between them. I told them of my joy in Chicago, the theater, the restaurants, the society, and how it was all so wonderful…but that it was more wonderful because of John, Henrietta’s brother. My father tried to interrupt me, but I wouldn’t let him. I hurried and told them that John wanted to be with me today as I gave them our news, but he couldn’t. He was coming soon, though, and Henrietta with him, and he would ask officially for my hand in marriage although I had already given it to him, right before the train departed, in a little mock ceremony in which his good friend, Arthur, who was an attorney, pretended to officiate. It was a surprise of John’s before I left, to show his devotion to me, even if it was merely pretending. Our agreement
“Okay.”
“How’s your story coming?” It sounded like a casual question, but I knew it wasn’t.
“I gave my newspaper some introductory sections about the house, about making it livable…”
“About her disappearance?” he asked. “About her things in the attic?”
I understood his concern. I had it too. We were about to open a whole new facet of my adventure in this house, one that ran much deeper than I’d expected to know or tell. I didn’t know what Julianne was about to tell us, and I didn’t know if it would be shared with the world. Whereas my family wanted to protect their reputations, Kyle and I wanted to defend a woman we believed was wrongly accused. “I only introduced her disappearance. Gave a flavor of her. That’s all.”
He nodded and aligned the notes in front of him. I returned my fingers to the keys and looked at him. He nodded. He read, I typed, and Julianne finally began to take form.
****
Genesis is for beginnings, but this marked my end. What came about for me has been told behind closed doors and whispered behind hands. It has been fabricated and repeated and not once taken from my own mouth or heart…until now. Though the truth will most likely remain untold, this is my story. This is mine to tell.
Chicago had been my home for well nigh half a year. It was a city of light, of strong breezes, of danger, of excitement, and of love. I’d never tasted such living as I did on its crowded streets. I’d never shared so much with friends, never known Henrietta the way I came to know her then, and never understood John, her brother, until that wonderful time.
The first time I saw him, or at least the first time I recall him, we were but children. He was Henrietta’s older brother, a playmate, one who was kind and patient with us, but who still kept to his governing role as the elder and wiser. This time when I saw John he was more. His eyes, the way his hand took mine, the way he smiled, smelled, and spoke. This was the second time I saw him, and nearly the last.
When I was summoned back home, I exited the train full of excitement and promise, happy to see my family again and joyfully knowing I had great news for them. Secret news, surrounded by silly superfluities only a young woman can appreciate. My excited hugs fell upon mummified beings, their arms stiff and cold as they accepted my happy reunion. “They don’t understand my gaiety yet,” I told myself on our way home. “They will soon, and their hugs will change. They’ll be dancing with me too.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen this man who was waiting for us, but it was the first time he registered in my consciousness. Standing like a brittle statue at our door, Isaac Crouse watched us dismount from our wagon and come to the house. His eyes were on me, though he spoke to my father. My father answered him with a muffled tone while Isaac stared after me. Then he went away.
We settled ourselves around the table, a meager fare prepared for my homecoming. They were quiet, too quiet, and I couldn’t stand their sullenness any longer. “I have news,” I announced. Pained expressions passed between them. I told them of my joy in Chicago, the theater, the restaurants, the society, and how it was all so wonderful…but that it was more wonderful because of John, Henrietta’s brother. My father tried to interrupt me, but I wouldn’t let him. I hurried and told them that John wanted to be with me today as I gave them our news, but he couldn’t. He was coming soon, though, and Henrietta with him, and he would ask officially for my hand in marriage although I had already given it to him, right before the train departed, in a little mock ceremony in which his good friend, Arthur, who was an attorney, pretended to officiate. It was a surprise of John’s before I left, to show his devotion to me, even if it was merely pretending. Our agreement
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