Give Me Tonight(51)

"That's just wonderful. Now I can't even see him anymore, and I'm stuck with a closet full of pink dresses. "

May couldn't hold back a smile, though she tried. "Adeline, it is a pretty color on you—"

"No, don't even try," Addie said, beginning to smile reluctantly despite her exasperation. "I'm in­consolable."

May clucked her tongue sympathetically and busied herself around the room, picking up dresses and piling them on the bed. "We'll fix everything, sugar. Just give me a minute to think. "

Addie felt her temper subsiding as she and May worked to put things back in order. There was some­thing almost magical about May's effect on her, some­thing soothing and wonderful about the scent of vanilla, the gleam of her tidy blond hair, the graceful efficiency of her slim white hands. It was May's self­ appointed role to comfort and soothe, arrange and organize, to keep the house and all its occupants in perfect harmony. Addie knew she wasn't as forbearing as May, and she wasn't certain she wanted to be. But she appreciated that quality in May just the same.

"Let's see if we can find something for you in my closet."

"Are you sure?" Addie looked at her in surprise.

"Well, we're pretty much the same size. But your waist is smaller."

"I've noticed you haven't been lacing as tightly as you used to. I've been meanin' to speak to you about that, Adeline."

Addie frowned. She'd always had a figure. But that had been in a time when young women didn't use cor­sets. In I930, an old woman would wear whalebone coutils, a middle-aged woman wore the lighter ver­sion, called a corselette, and someone Addie's age would wear only a brassiere and a lightweight foun­dation garment. Now she was being measured by dif­ferent standards, and in I880 a twenty-four-inch waist was decidedly large. Every woman, young and old, wore strong whalebone corsets fortified with flat lead weights and laced as tightly as they could bear.

"I can't breathe when it's tighter than this."

"Of course you can," May said. "You have in the past."

"I've changed, Mama. Really, I have."

"It might be uncomfortable at times, but it's just not elegant to let your waist get that big, sugar. And besides, it's not good for your back to go without sup­port. "

"I’ll try to lace tighter," Addie muttered, knowing she'd faint if she did.

May beamed at her. "That's my good girl. I just want you to be the prettiest girl at the dance. And you will be. I'm going to give you that blue-green dress I've never even worn."

"Oh, I couldn't take something you've never—"

"I’ve decided it's too young for me. It'll be the per­fect thing for you. Come try it on. "

Addie followed her down the hall to her bedroom. May and Russell slept in separate bedrooms in order to keep from having more children. After becoming aware of that, Addie had questioned Caroline about it, unable to imagine a man as robust as Russell going without a woman for the rest of his life. Caroline had blushed slightly. "I suppose there must be someone he visits occasionally," she had said.

Addie had been disturbed by the thought. "But how strange. It seems as if he and Mama still love each other. "

"Of course they do. Even though Daddy might go to bed with another woman, he loves Mama as much as he always has."

"But for them not to share a bed together—"

"It doesn't mean anything, really. He can love Mama with his heart even though he might love an­other woman in a physical way."

"No he can't," Addie said, her brows knitting to­gether. Fidelity wasn't something to be compromised on.

"Why not?"

"Because he just can't!"

Thinking about that conversation now, Addie peered at May's pristine yellow-and-white bedroom, and then watched her sort through the dresses in the closet. "Mama," she asked carefully, "if two people are go­ing to get married, do you think it's important for them to feel passion for each other?"

May turned around, looking surprised, and then she smiled. "My goodness, sometimes you're even more outspoken than your daddy. What brought on that question? "

"I was just thinking about marriage, and love."

"The two should go hand in hand. It's important to love the man you marry. But it's even more important to have interests that are compatible with his. As for passion, that's not as necessary as you might think. Passion fades. Love will always be there, and so will compatibility. Does that answer your question?"

"Partly," Addie said thoughtfully. "You don't think passion is a bad thing, do you?"

"In some ways, yes. It blinds people to what's really in their hearts. They're more easily swayed by passion than reason, and that's a bad thing. It's an empty emo­tion. "

Addie didn't agree at all, but she held her tongue rather than argue. In the silence, May turned back to the closet and located the dress she'd been looking for. "Here it is, Adeline." She laid it on the bed with a flourish,' and Addie went to look at it.

"It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen," she said, touching a fold of it reverently. The turquoise dress shimmered and glistened in the daylight. It had a heart-shaped neckline, elbow-length sleeves trimmed with ruffles, and an elaborately draped skirt orna­mented with gauze and moss roses. She could hardly wait to try it on.