DOUBTS
My Dearest Zac,
I got two of your letters today! They were each dated a day apart, so it's much appreciated that you kept your word on writing me every day. Not that I ever doubted you. I always trust you. I'm just happy you haven't forgotten about me. Yet. I know I shouldn't say that. But I just miss you so much and I stay so afraid every single day of the girl who is older and prettier than me who will sweep you off your feet. Maybe I'll always feel that way. Maybe I'll always be insecure and afraid. Maybe that's my nature. I don't know, yet. All I know is that you're my first boyfriend ever and we've only been together for a month and I don't have any other experience than that, but I know that I don't ever want to lose you. You're my first and my last, Zac. My one and only.
I got my surprise with your letter! Please make sure to thank Taylor for me. I'll treasure it forever, I love it so! To be able to look at your handsome face whenever I please brings me so much joy and comfort, even with your sourpuss expression in the photograph. I love that sourpuss face, though, because it's my sourpuss face and I'll dream about that sourpuss face every single night as I sleep with the photograph under my pillow. It is sincerely the very best gift you could have ever given me.
I'm so sorry your trip to Boston was so rough. I'm glad you made it safely, though. And I know you're on your second day of shows at the fair now, but I hope those are going well, too. I believe in you and I have no doubt that you're leaving everyone that sees your act in awe, just like I was that first day. You're so talented and you're so brilliant. I miss you so much.
I told Mama today that I didn't want to have the masquerade ball. My birthday is less than ten days away and I know it was very short notice of me and I think she is disappointed. I didn't realize just how much planning went into a party, but I just don't want a masquerade ball, or any kind of fancy ball, without you right beside me. Besides, how absurd would it be to be the subject of a party and have no escort of your own? Mama has been saying that Joey Martin will escort me, but it's not the same. It's not that I dislike Joey, he is one of my dearest and closest friends. But he's not you. I only want you. Is that selfish of me? I feel bad. Mama has been working so hard on my party but I had to tell her that I just didn't want something that fancy. It's the truth. Isn't it right to always be honest?
I have to say my prayers and go to sleep now. It's late. Mama gets on to me for staying up so late. She says young ladies need their beauty rest. To be honest, sleep hasn't been easy for me since you left. But I have our photograph now and I think that might make things just a little easier.
I love you so much, Zac. Every single day I only love you more and more. And to count the ways I miss you would take an eternity. I hope you're taking good care of yourself. Please come home to me in one piece.
Your Love Forever,
Bessie
"Beatrice, you're making this very difficult with your constant fidgeting," her mother lamented.
"I'm sorry," Bessie replied. "But I'm being poked in places I didn't know I had!"
"If you stay still, you won't get poked."
That wasn't necessarily true, but Bessie silenced herself and tried to obey her mother anyway.
She stood on a stool in the middle of the living room, surrounded by her mother, Margaret Connors, Millie, and Judith. She was wrapped in a long, black gown and the two older women busily pinned and sewed on either side of her. Bessie let out a breath, having been finished with this entire ordeal practically before it started and all she wanted to do was go upstairs and curl up in her bed. All this talk about her birthday was making her positively miserable.
"Oh, Bessie," Millie said in awe. "That gown is just divine on you. You look like you just stepped straight off a ship from Victorian-era Paris!"
"Well, that's the idea," Bessie's mother replied proudly. "This will be the biggest masquerade soiree Tulsa has ever seen. Masks made of sparkles and lace and gowns that brush the floor. This dress shows off all of your womanly curves, Bessie. This will be the party that says goodbye to Bessie Harlow, the girl, and hello to Bessie Harlow, the woman. Isn't that exciting?"
No. No, it wasn't exciting. She looked on at her mother in horror at the sound of her words and she just couldn't believe her ears. Bessie was no longer a girl. She hadn't been for awhile. She hadn't realized it until recently, but there had been a change in her. Zac changed her. Zac turned her into a woman, not some fancy masquerade party. No. None of what her mother said was true at all.
"Mother," she said quietly. "I'm already a woman. I don't need some fancy introduction party. This is my birthday, not cotillion."
Her mother smiled. "I understand that, dear, but you know what I mean. You're going to sweep every single guest right off of their feet with your devastating beauty, you can be assured of that." She took her by the hand and lifted it. "Here. Lift your dress and step down. Come see."
Bessie's head hung as she took her mother's hand and allowed her to help her down off the stool and lead her to the full-length mirror that had been brought into the room for the occasion. She didn't want to sweep guests off their feet. She only wanted to sweep Zac off his feet. The thought of being without him on her birthday suddenly came at her with blunt force and it caused her stomach to feel sick. Instantly she was overcome with sadness as her mother peered into the mirror behind her.
"See?" Her mother smiled, sweeping Bessie's hair off of her shoulders. "Look how beautiful this dress is on you." She took Bessie's hair in her hands and began to twist and lift it up on top of her head. "We'll take your hair and we'll pull it up like the Victorians did it. We'll put some curl in it, maybe a feather or two, and it will be just divine."
As Bessie stood there and watched her mother play with her hair and talk about the dress, the dress began to change. As if by magic, the dress turned white and, all of a sudden, her mother was affixing a veil to her head. She was telling Bessie how proud she was of her and how happy she was that Bessie found a husband as good and dear and perfect as Zac was. She was telling her that she'd just seen Zac outside, in the clearing under their tree where they would be marrying each other, and that he looked absolutely charming in his suit, wringing his hands out of nervousness. Her mother was telling her how today was the first and very best day of the rest of her life and that as long as Bessie and Zac continued to love each other, the rest of their lives would just fall into place. "After all, if you don't have love, you don't have anything," her mother smiled.
"Maybe it would be better if she carried her mask on a stick instead of finding a way to strap it onto her face," Mrs. Connors said, brutally bringing Bessie back to the present. "It would look more alluring that way, I think."
In the blink of an eye, her dress was black again and Zac was still fifteen hundred miles away. Bessie sighed with regret as she swallowed a lump in her throat.
"I agree," her mother nodded with concentration. "That won't be difficult to accomplish. I'll just get some glue and--"
"Mama," Bessie found herself saying before she even realized she was speaking. "Mama, I've been doing some thinking."
Her mother stepped back and she smiled. "Well, now. It's about time you contributed a thing or two to this party of yours. Out with it, what's your suggestion?"
Bessie turned around and faced her mother, her eyes falling with shame as she spoke. "Well. I've, um, I've decided that I don't want a masquerade ball for my birthday."
Her mother's eyes widened and she blinked in response. "Oh?"
Bessie shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry. I just don't feel good about it. I don't...I don't like the idea of having a big, fancy party without Zac. I miss him too much and I just know I'll be miserable."
"You're going to be just as miserable, masquerade or no masquerade."
"I know. But I'll stand there in my dress and I'll look around at all the women in their fancy dresses with their husbands and their dates all dressed in fancy suits and I'll just be standing there. Alone. Without my beau." Bessie sniffed as the tears rushed to fill her eyes. "How can I be alone in a beautiful dress at my own party, Mama?"
"Oh, sweetheart," her mother whispered as she reached out and took Bessie in her arms.
The other three women watched as Bessie cried on her mother's shoulder, but Bessie didn't care. She didn't care who saw her expressing any emotion lately, she'd realized. Because nothing else mattered. Until Zac was home, safe in her arms again, nothing in her life felt like it mattered. After this trip, she vowed to never leave Zac's side ever again, no matter where she ended up with him. Never again.
"I know it feels lonely without him," her mother cooed as she stroked her hair. "But he'll come home before you know it. Almost a week has passed already, have you realized that? He's been gone for five or so days now, right? That's almost a week already. See? And as for your party, Joey would be more than happy to escort you--"
"No," Bessie sniffed, drying her tears and wiping her eyes as she pulled away from her mother. "No. I'm upset at Joey right now."
"Whatever for?" Her mother asked, concerned.
"Because he was dishonest with me."
"Well, okay, then..."
"What about Billy?" Mrs. Connors suggested. "I know for a fact that Billy would be more than happy to escort you at your party, Bessie."
Four pairs of eyes landed on Mrs. Connors and her shoulders hunkered at their glares. Knowingly, she nodded. "Or...I suppose he might already have his own date in mind, so that may not work out..."
"Bessie, I don't know what you want me to do now," her mother said. "Your party is nine days away and everything is already arranged. I've scheduled the caterers, the baker, the band...from what I understand, decorations are already arriving at the governor's mansion. And the invitations are scheduled to be sent tomorrow. I'm afraid it's simply too late to just change your plans now."
"So don't let them send out the invitations tomorrow," Bessie pleaded. "Change them, make new ones, do something. But I don't want a fancy party, Mama, I just want something here. At home. No big deal, just a cake and some candles. It truly is the very most I'll be able to handle, I just know it. My life isn't complete without Zac in it, Mama. He's the other half of my being. And that includes my birthday. If he can't be here, I don't really want to celebrate."
In response, her mother's light eyes darkened as she placed her hands forcefully on her hips. "Now, Beatrice. This has gone on long enough and I've had about all I can handle. No matter where your beau is, whether he's here nor there, your life still has to go on--"
"Cathy," Mrs. Connors interrupted in a firm tone. "What was life like for you when Jim had to miss your birthday for being away at school? Hm?"
Catherine Harlow glared at Margaret Connors with a couple of blinks of the eye before she took a deep breath. "All right, then," she conceded. "It's your birthday, after all. You should be allowed to celebrate it however you like. Although I feel for all the guests who have already been invited by word-of-mouth who have probably gotten gifts for you..."
"So they can come here. We can have cake and have a party, though they don't have to bring gifts if they don't want to. And nobody has to dress fancy at all. Maybe we'll have something in the yard..."
As Bessie mused about her new, low-key, at-home birthday celebration, there was a knock in the front door. Her mother looked defeated as Millie jumped up and volunteered to answer it and, moments later, she came bounding over to them, waving the mail in her hand. Grinning, she outstretched her arm. "So...Bessie got two letters today."
"Oh my god!" Bessie cried as she scrambled to get to her cousin.
"Bessie, your dress!" Both her mother and Mrs. Connors shrieked. "All those pins!"
"Well then get it off me!" Bessie exclaimed. "Please hurry, I'll just die!"
The two older women scrambled to get Bessie out of her dress as she squirmed and jerked her way desperately out of it. Finally, letting it fall around her ankles, and not having a care in the world for the short silk chemise she was left in, she snatched the envelopes out of Millie's hand and she ran hurriedly to the farthest corner of the room so that she could have a moment alone with her mail.
She took a moment to admire Zac's handwriting on the front of the envelopes. She'd never seen his handwriting before. It was beautiful, elegant cursive, impressive seeing as he was left-handed. Further impressive because he never struck her as someone who might have pretty handwriting. But Zac's was glorious and it was just one more thing she found that she loved about him.
Finally, she tore into the envelopes and she read every single word of each one several times over. The tears poured down her cheeks with joy and hurt and she decided that the letters hardly helped with the missing him. She saw his face and she watched his lips and she heard his voice in her mind as she hung on to every written word on the paper.
The photograph Zac had included was beyond anything she'd ever expected and nothing on the earth meant more to her than that printed card at that point in time. Besides the pocket watch and the hair pin he'd given her for her birthday, this was all she had left of him. Well, she had the letters and the telegrams. She had their tree and their wildflowers. And she had Scout, who had originally been attracted to Zac anyway. She had everything except for his loving arms and his warm breath and his soothing voice whispering in her ear. The photograph was merely a bandage covering an open, gaping wound.
But she treasured that photograph and she found joy in reminiscing on the day it was taken.
Beside her, Judith seemed to appear out of nowhere, crouching next to the armchair Bessie sat in, delicately resting her hand on the arm next to Bessie. Bessie glanced down at Judith's beauty, with her porcelain skin, platinum blonde finger curls, and ruby red lips, and found a warming comfort in her that she wasn't sure she'd felt before. Maybe it was because of Isaac and Zac, but she felt bonded to Judith now. A strong, sisterly bond that had the potential to surpass her bond with Millie.
"Are you okay?" Judith's light voice asked gently.
Bessie nodded with a closed-lipped smile. "They're good letters," she replied quietly. "The travel was a little rough, but they're safe. He says he misses me. And Isaac and Taylor send their love to you and Aishe. We'll have to visit Aishe and tell her soon. After all, she's getting married to Taylor, you know."
Judith nodded. "I know."
"I'm worried, though," Bessie replied, her face falling. "These letters were written before the telegram exchange about my having lunch with Billy. He claims that he's okay with it, but I know him, Judith. Even in the short time we've known each other, I can practically hear what he's thinking right this very second. He'll say one thing but feel another and then he'll dwell on it. He'll dwell on it and it'll fester and I'm so afraid he will hate me by the time he comes home. He'll have convinced himself that I've been untrue to him and then we'll be over." She sniffed and swallowed the lump in her throat as the tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm so afraid," she whispered.
"Don't be," Judith reassured her. "Don't be worried. Zac loves you. And he knows you love him. And sometimes in relationships there are tests. And this happens to be just one...big test. It's a test of trust and loyalty...and love. And I don't think this is a test that either one of you will have any trouble passing. You just have to be strong, Bess. And confident. And just know and trust that when he comes home, your relationship will be as good as new. Maybe even better. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?"
"Absence breaks my heart," Bessie's voice cracked.
"It's hard, I know. This time is more difficult on me than the past has been, with me going off to school or Isaac going on the road like this--those times were then, but now? Now it's real. And he doesn't even know it, yet. At least Zac knows. You know?"
"Oh, Judith," Bessie whispered. Leaning her torso over the side of the arm chair, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around her neck. "I can't imagine what this must be like for you. You should telegram him. I could help you. You should tell him--"
Judith pulled away and shook her head. "No. It's not that easy with Isaac. He doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeve like Zac does. If I have big news to tell Ike, it has to be in person. On paper just won't do."
Bessie's eyes widened. "So...you have to wait another several weeks to tell him how you feel about him..."
Judith nodded. "I do. But it has to be right."
"I understand."
Judith smiled and sucked in a deep breath before she rubbed her hand briskly over Bessie's arm. "Well. Put those things away and come on now. We have a brand new party to plan and not much time to plan it in. And you?" She giggled. "You really need to get dressed."
Drying her eyes, appreciating the giggle that Judith managed to pull out of her, Bessie clutched her letters and bounded upstairs to pull a fresh day dress on over her head. Placing the letters in a special box she had set aside especially for Zac's correspondence, she managed a deep breath and a smile as she looked at herself in the mirror. She would be all right. It would take some adjusting, but she just knew she would be all right.
________________________________________
By the time The Incredible Hansons' run in Boston was up, the brothers felt like they were rolling in the dough. On the first night, Taylor hadn't gotten a wink of sleep and Zac had woken up to find all his good shirts' sleeves cut up far above the elbow. Before Zac had a chance to pummel him straight through the trailer's floor, Taylor plead his case. "First of all, this summer is hot as the blazes, including inside the ten-in-one. Okay? And secondly, let's face it, your arms are too big to roll them to your shoulders without a problem. See?"
As Zac examined Taylor's handiwork, he had no choice but to sigh and give in. After all, he couldn't very well ask him to sew the sleeves back on. Could he?
"Oh, and also," he said, holding up his camera. "We need to have a photograph or two of us in our new sleeves so we can sell copies to people who want them, and...we could charge extra for our autographs!"
"You know what?" Zac said in annoyance. "This is getting ridiculous. We are magicians. We specialize in illusions. That's what we do. And we don't have to be naked to do it."
"Zac," Taylor glared. "The first time you showed off your arms, a girl fainted. She fainted. And then she emptied out her purse when she came to. I'm not trying to be funny, Zac, but you're a handsome guy. Women like you. So take advantage of it!"
"It works for the girlie shows," Isaac pointed out.
"We're not a girlie show," Zac spat.
"Well," Taylor shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You don't have a choice but to wear short sleeves anyway."
"I don't care about impressing any women. I only care about impressing Bessie."
"Yeah," Taylor said, leaning over into Zac's face. "Well you care about making enough money to get back home to her, don't you? You care about saving enough money to start a good life with her, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he scowled.
"So, then, show the ladies what you got."
Sometimes Zac hated Taylor. His bond with him was the strongest, but sometimes so was his hate. He hated when Taylor had a point. He hated when he was logical and he hated when his ideas made sense. While he had no interest to catering to and flirting with any women at all, the idea of doing it all for Bessie was much too enticing. And while Taylor had a point with the way he'd already ruined all of Zac's clothes, he wasn't left with much of a choice anyway.
His eyes darting slowly from Taylor to Isaac and then back to Taylor, he confirmed warily, "So, I'm doing this for Bessie..."
"You're actually doing it for the money," Taylor shrugged. "But it's your money and you can do whatever the hell you want to with it."
"You really think people would want to buy photographs of us?"
"We couldn't keep them in stock way back then, remember?"
Isaac turned around from his stretched out form across one of the benches and arched an eyebrow. "Zac, they're buying photographs of a sleazy, fake hermaphrodite. I think we got this."
That exchange had been three days prior. Now, as they packed up to make their way to Philadelphia, Zac couldn't help but agree that it was the best idea they'd had. He didn't even want to think of the difference in the amount of money they would have made without Taylor's brilliant suggestions. In spite of himself, Zac even found himself enjoying the attention a little bit. The attention helped with his confidence and his confidence helped make the show more enjoyable which, in turn, increased their revenue.
It was awkward, writing that in a letter to Bessie. But he didn't want to hide anything from her, either. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. He wasn't using trick flowers like he promised he wouldn't. He wasn't kissing any of them or holding their hands or handing out false promises. He simply rolled his sleeves up and performed onstage. But the money was rolling in and she had to be grateful for that, didn't she? Sure, she did. She was the most trusting and understanding woman he'd ever met.
When they had made it into Philadelphia, Zac all but ordered Taylor to take at least a dozen pictures of the city for Bessie. He decided that, here, he would buy her a gift. Something extra special, just for her. Something meaningful and from the heart. Something that would make her smile and make him feel less guilty about having to make the effort to appeal to women to make money. Taylor and Isaac seemed to take to it like fish to water, but Zac felt worse and worse about it every single night when he attempted to lull himself to sleep. He found himself relying on the bottle more often just to get some shut-eye.
The moment they parked their trailer at the fairground in Philadelphia, Zac went straight to the telegram office to telegram Bessie of his arrival. It had been nearly a week now since he'd gotten anything from her and the desperation to hear from her was becoming overwhelming.
Ending his telegram with a "respond immediately," he stood in the telegram office and waited. And he waited. And he waited even longer. He managed to sit there and make the operators uncomfortable for the next three hours, no doubt angering his brothers, but nothing was matching the heat that was rising in his own body. He had expected Bessie to be chomping at the bit, waiting by the door or the mailbox for word from him. Tulsa wasn't that big a city--if she wasn't home, she could be found. It was going on hour four. Why wasn't she replying?
Finally, Zac had had it. His nostrils flared as he swallowed away the angry tears that were coming on fast and he stood up and stormed up to the nearest operator's booth. "I need to send another one," he barked.
"Um, yes, sir," the young brunette stammered, startled. "Where is it going?"
"Same place it went before," he snapped. "Except this time, make sure it reads, 'I hope you're having a great time with Billy.' Stop. 'Looks like it sure didn't take long for you to forget about me.' Stop. 'I hope he treats you the way you deserve to be treated.' Stop. 'But he will never love you the way I do.' Stop. Stop. Stop..." His breathing began to grow rapid as he spoke and his eyes darted around the room. "Stop." Is this what he wanted to say to her? Did he want to let his anger get the best of him before taking a moment and thinking it through first? After all, it's what nearly got him in trouble with Bessie the first time and he'd been trying very hard to keep his temper in check lately.
Then he glanced at the clock and remembered that he'd already had over four hours to think about it. And he wasn't any more satisfied.
Finally, he glared at the operator. "Send it," he ordered. Then he slammed the change down on the counter and stormed out of the office.
The moment he stepped outside, the thunder cracked and the rain exploded from the heavens. "Fucking hell," he muttered. Of course it was going to rain. When it rained, it poured, wasn't that the saying?
Walking back to the fairground, soaked to the bone, Zac was glad that Philadelphia was such a large city. Because he had absolutely no problem buying liquor off of a couple of bums and learning where the local speakeasies were. He was going to survive this trip one way or another, no matter what.
My Dearest Zac,
I got two of your letters today! They were each dated a day apart, so it's much appreciated that you kept your word on writing me every day. Not that I ever doubted you. I always trust you. I'm just happy you haven't forgotten about me. Yet. I know I shouldn't say that. But I just miss you so much and I stay so afraid every single day of the girl who is older and prettier than me who will sweep you off your feet. Maybe I'll always feel that way. Maybe I'll always be insecure and afraid. Maybe that's my nature. I don't know, yet. All I know is that you're my first boyfriend ever and we've only been together for a month and I don't have any other experience than that, but I know that I don't ever want to lose you. You're my first and my last, Zac. My one and only.
I got my surprise with your letter! Please make sure to thank Taylor for me. I'll treasure it forever, I love it so! To be able to look at your handsome face whenever I please brings me so much joy and comfort, even with your sourpuss expression in the photograph. I love that sourpuss face, though, because it's my sourpuss face and I'll dream about that sourpuss face every single night as I sleep with the photograph under my pillow. It is sincerely the very best gift you could have ever given me.
I'm so sorry your trip to Boston was so rough. I'm glad you made it safely, though. And I know you're on your second day of shows at the fair now, but I hope those are going well, too. I believe in you and I have no doubt that you're leaving everyone that sees your act in awe, just like I was that first day. You're so talented and you're so brilliant. I miss you so much.
I told Mama today that I didn't want to have the masquerade ball. My birthday is less than ten days away and I know it was very short notice of me and I think she is disappointed. I didn't realize just how much planning went into a party, but I just don't want a masquerade ball, or any kind of fancy ball, without you right beside me. Besides, how absurd would it be to be the subject of a party and have no escort of your own? Mama has been saying that Joey Martin will escort me, but it's not the same. It's not that I dislike Joey, he is one of my dearest and closest friends. But he's not you. I only want you. Is that selfish of me? I feel bad. Mama has been working so hard on my party but I had to tell her that I just didn't want something that fancy. It's the truth. Isn't it right to always be honest?
I have to say my prayers and go to sleep now. It's late. Mama gets on to me for staying up so late. She says young ladies need their beauty rest. To be honest, sleep hasn't been easy for me since you left. But I have our photograph now and I think that might make things just a little easier.
I love you so much, Zac. Every single day I only love you more and more. And to count the ways I miss you would take an eternity. I hope you're taking good care of yourself. Please come home to me in one piece.
Your Love Forever,
Bessie
"Beatrice, you're making this very difficult with your constant fidgeting," her mother lamented.
"I'm sorry," Bessie replied. "But I'm being poked in places I didn't know I had!"
"If you stay still, you won't get poked."
That wasn't necessarily true, but Bessie silenced herself and tried to obey her mother anyway.
She stood on a stool in the middle of the living room, surrounded by her mother, Margaret Connors, Millie, and Judith. She was wrapped in a long, black gown and the two older women busily pinned and sewed on either side of her. Bessie let out a breath, having been finished with this entire ordeal practically before it started and all she wanted to do was go upstairs and curl up in her bed. All this talk about her birthday was making her positively miserable.
"Oh, Bessie," Millie said in awe. "That gown is just divine on you. You look like you just stepped straight off a ship from Victorian-era Paris!"
"Well, that's the idea," Bessie's mother replied proudly. "This will be the biggest masquerade soiree Tulsa has ever seen. Masks made of sparkles and lace and gowns that brush the floor. This dress shows off all of your womanly curves, Bessie. This will be the party that says goodbye to Bessie Harlow, the girl, and hello to Bessie Harlow, the woman. Isn't that exciting?"
No. No, it wasn't exciting. She looked on at her mother in horror at the sound of her words and she just couldn't believe her ears. Bessie was no longer a girl. She hadn't been for awhile. She hadn't realized it until recently, but there had been a change in her. Zac changed her. Zac turned her into a woman, not some fancy masquerade party. No. None of what her mother said was true at all.
"Mother," she said quietly. "I'm already a woman. I don't need some fancy introduction party. This is my birthday, not cotillion."
Her mother smiled. "I understand that, dear, but you know what I mean. You're going to sweep every single guest right off of their feet with your devastating beauty, you can be assured of that." She took her by the hand and lifted it. "Here. Lift your dress and step down. Come see."
Bessie's head hung as she took her mother's hand and allowed her to help her down off the stool and lead her to the full-length mirror that had been brought into the room for the occasion. She didn't want to sweep guests off their feet. She only wanted to sweep Zac off his feet. The thought of being without him on her birthday suddenly came at her with blunt force and it caused her stomach to feel sick. Instantly she was overcome with sadness as her mother peered into the mirror behind her.
"See?" Her mother smiled, sweeping Bessie's hair off of her shoulders. "Look how beautiful this dress is on you." She took Bessie's hair in her hands and began to twist and lift it up on top of her head. "We'll take your hair and we'll pull it up like the Victorians did it. We'll put some curl in it, maybe a feather or two, and it will be just divine."
As Bessie stood there and watched her mother play with her hair and talk about the dress, the dress began to change. As if by magic, the dress turned white and, all of a sudden, her mother was affixing a veil to her head. She was telling Bessie how proud she was of her and how happy she was that Bessie found a husband as good and dear and perfect as Zac was. She was telling her that she'd just seen Zac outside, in the clearing under their tree where they would be marrying each other, and that he looked absolutely charming in his suit, wringing his hands out of nervousness. Her mother was telling her how today was the first and very best day of the rest of her life and that as long as Bessie and Zac continued to love each other, the rest of their lives would just fall into place. "After all, if you don't have love, you don't have anything," her mother smiled.
"Maybe it would be better if she carried her mask on a stick instead of finding a way to strap it onto her face," Mrs. Connors said, brutally bringing Bessie back to the present. "It would look more alluring that way, I think."
In the blink of an eye, her dress was black again and Zac was still fifteen hundred miles away. Bessie sighed with regret as she swallowed a lump in her throat.
"I agree," her mother nodded with concentration. "That won't be difficult to accomplish. I'll just get some glue and--"
"Mama," Bessie found herself saying before she even realized she was speaking. "Mama, I've been doing some thinking."
Her mother stepped back and she smiled. "Well, now. It's about time you contributed a thing or two to this party of yours. Out with it, what's your suggestion?"
Bessie turned around and faced her mother, her eyes falling with shame as she spoke. "Well. I've, um, I've decided that I don't want a masquerade ball for my birthday."
Her mother's eyes widened and she blinked in response. "Oh?"
Bessie shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry. I just don't feel good about it. I don't...I don't like the idea of having a big, fancy party without Zac. I miss him too much and I just know I'll be miserable."
"You're going to be just as miserable, masquerade or no masquerade."
"I know. But I'll stand there in my dress and I'll look around at all the women in their fancy dresses with their husbands and their dates all dressed in fancy suits and I'll just be standing there. Alone. Without my beau." Bessie sniffed as the tears rushed to fill her eyes. "How can I be alone in a beautiful dress at my own party, Mama?"
"Oh, sweetheart," her mother whispered as she reached out and took Bessie in her arms.
The other three women watched as Bessie cried on her mother's shoulder, but Bessie didn't care. She didn't care who saw her expressing any emotion lately, she'd realized. Because nothing else mattered. Until Zac was home, safe in her arms again, nothing in her life felt like it mattered. After this trip, she vowed to never leave Zac's side ever again, no matter where she ended up with him. Never again.
"I know it feels lonely without him," her mother cooed as she stroked her hair. "But he'll come home before you know it. Almost a week has passed already, have you realized that? He's been gone for five or so days now, right? That's almost a week already. See? And as for your party, Joey would be more than happy to escort you--"
"No," Bessie sniffed, drying her tears and wiping her eyes as she pulled away from her mother. "No. I'm upset at Joey right now."
"Whatever for?" Her mother asked, concerned.
"Because he was dishonest with me."
"Well, okay, then..."
"What about Billy?" Mrs. Connors suggested. "I know for a fact that Billy would be more than happy to escort you at your party, Bessie."
Four pairs of eyes landed on Mrs. Connors and her shoulders hunkered at their glares. Knowingly, she nodded. "Or...I suppose he might already have his own date in mind, so that may not work out..."
"Bessie, I don't know what you want me to do now," her mother said. "Your party is nine days away and everything is already arranged. I've scheduled the caterers, the baker, the band...from what I understand, decorations are already arriving at the governor's mansion. And the invitations are scheduled to be sent tomorrow. I'm afraid it's simply too late to just change your plans now."
"So don't let them send out the invitations tomorrow," Bessie pleaded. "Change them, make new ones, do something. But I don't want a fancy party, Mama, I just want something here. At home. No big deal, just a cake and some candles. It truly is the very most I'll be able to handle, I just know it. My life isn't complete without Zac in it, Mama. He's the other half of my being. And that includes my birthday. If he can't be here, I don't really want to celebrate."
In response, her mother's light eyes darkened as she placed her hands forcefully on her hips. "Now, Beatrice. This has gone on long enough and I've had about all I can handle. No matter where your beau is, whether he's here nor there, your life still has to go on--"
"Cathy," Mrs. Connors interrupted in a firm tone. "What was life like for you when Jim had to miss your birthday for being away at school? Hm?"
Catherine Harlow glared at Margaret Connors with a couple of blinks of the eye before she took a deep breath. "All right, then," she conceded. "It's your birthday, after all. You should be allowed to celebrate it however you like. Although I feel for all the guests who have already been invited by word-of-mouth who have probably gotten gifts for you..."
"So they can come here. We can have cake and have a party, though they don't have to bring gifts if they don't want to. And nobody has to dress fancy at all. Maybe we'll have something in the yard..."
As Bessie mused about her new, low-key, at-home birthday celebration, there was a knock in the front door. Her mother looked defeated as Millie jumped up and volunteered to answer it and, moments later, she came bounding over to them, waving the mail in her hand. Grinning, she outstretched her arm. "So...Bessie got two letters today."
"Oh my god!" Bessie cried as she scrambled to get to her cousin.
"Bessie, your dress!" Both her mother and Mrs. Connors shrieked. "All those pins!"
"Well then get it off me!" Bessie exclaimed. "Please hurry, I'll just die!"
The two older women scrambled to get Bessie out of her dress as she squirmed and jerked her way desperately out of it. Finally, letting it fall around her ankles, and not having a care in the world for the short silk chemise she was left in, she snatched the envelopes out of Millie's hand and she ran hurriedly to the farthest corner of the room so that she could have a moment alone with her mail.
She took a moment to admire Zac's handwriting on the front of the envelopes. She'd never seen his handwriting before. It was beautiful, elegant cursive, impressive seeing as he was left-handed. Further impressive because he never struck her as someone who might have pretty handwriting. But Zac's was glorious and it was just one more thing she found that she loved about him.
Finally, she tore into the envelopes and she read every single word of each one several times over. The tears poured down her cheeks with joy and hurt and she decided that the letters hardly helped with the missing him. She saw his face and she watched his lips and she heard his voice in her mind as she hung on to every written word on the paper.
The photograph Zac had included was beyond anything she'd ever expected and nothing on the earth meant more to her than that printed card at that point in time. Besides the pocket watch and the hair pin he'd given her for her birthday, this was all she had left of him. Well, she had the letters and the telegrams. She had their tree and their wildflowers. And she had Scout, who had originally been attracted to Zac anyway. She had everything except for his loving arms and his warm breath and his soothing voice whispering in her ear. The photograph was merely a bandage covering an open, gaping wound.
But she treasured that photograph and she found joy in reminiscing on the day it was taken.
Beside her, Judith seemed to appear out of nowhere, crouching next to the armchair Bessie sat in, delicately resting her hand on the arm next to Bessie. Bessie glanced down at Judith's beauty, with her porcelain skin, platinum blonde finger curls, and ruby red lips, and found a warming comfort in her that she wasn't sure she'd felt before. Maybe it was because of Isaac and Zac, but she felt bonded to Judith now. A strong, sisterly bond that had the potential to surpass her bond with Millie.
"Are you okay?" Judith's light voice asked gently.
Bessie nodded with a closed-lipped smile. "They're good letters," she replied quietly. "The travel was a little rough, but they're safe. He says he misses me. And Isaac and Taylor send their love to you and Aishe. We'll have to visit Aishe and tell her soon. After all, she's getting married to Taylor, you know."
Judith nodded. "I know."
"I'm worried, though," Bessie replied, her face falling. "These letters were written before the telegram exchange about my having lunch with Billy. He claims that he's okay with it, but I know him, Judith. Even in the short time we've known each other, I can practically hear what he's thinking right this very second. He'll say one thing but feel another and then he'll dwell on it. He'll dwell on it and it'll fester and I'm so afraid he will hate me by the time he comes home. He'll have convinced himself that I've been untrue to him and then we'll be over." She sniffed and swallowed the lump in her throat as the tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm so afraid," she whispered.
"Don't be," Judith reassured her. "Don't be worried. Zac loves you. And he knows you love him. And sometimes in relationships there are tests. And this happens to be just one...big test. It's a test of trust and loyalty...and love. And I don't think this is a test that either one of you will have any trouble passing. You just have to be strong, Bess. And confident. And just know and trust that when he comes home, your relationship will be as good as new. Maybe even better. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?"
"Absence breaks my heart," Bessie's voice cracked.
"It's hard, I know. This time is more difficult on me than the past has been, with me going off to school or Isaac going on the road like this--those times were then, but now? Now it's real. And he doesn't even know it, yet. At least Zac knows. You know?"
"Oh, Judith," Bessie whispered. Leaning her torso over the side of the arm chair, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around her neck. "I can't imagine what this must be like for you. You should telegram him. I could help you. You should tell him--"
Judith pulled away and shook her head. "No. It's not that easy with Isaac. He doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeve like Zac does. If I have big news to tell Ike, it has to be in person. On paper just won't do."
Bessie's eyes widened. "So...you have to wait another several weeks to tell him how you feel about him..."
Judith nodded. "I do. But it has to be right."
"I understand."
Judith smiled and sucked in a deep breath before she rubbed her hand briskly over Bessie's arm. "Well. Put those things away and come on now. We have a brand new party to plan and not much time to plan it in. And you?" She giggled. "You really need to get dressed."
Drying her eyes, appreciating the giggle that Judith managed to pull out of her, Bessie clutched her letters and bounded upstairs to pull a fresh day dress on over her head. Placing the letters in a special box she had set aside especially for Zac's correspondence, she managed a deep breath and a smile as she looked at herself in the mirror. She would be all right. It would take some adjusting, but she just knew she would be all right.
________________________________________
By the time The Incredible Hansons' run in Boston was up, the brothers felt like they were rolling in the dough. On the first night, Taylor hadn't gotten a wink of sleep and Zac had woken up to find all his good shirts' sleeves cut up far above the elbow. Before Zac had a chance to pummel him straight through the trailer's floor, Taylor plead his case. "First of all, this summer is hot as the blazes, including inside the ten-in-one. Okay? And secondly, let's face it, your arms are too big to roll them to your shoulders without a problem. See?"
As Zac examined Taylor's handiwork, he had no choice but to sigh and give in. After all, he couldn't very well ask him to sew the sleeves back on. Could he?
"Oh, and also," he said, holding up his camera. "We need to have a photograph or two of us in our new sleeves so we can sell copies to people who want them, and...we could charge extra for our autographs!"
"You know what?" Zac said in annoyance. "This is getting ridiculous. We are magicians. We specialize in illusions. That's what we do. And we don't have to be naked to do it."
"Zac," Taylor glared. "The first time you showed off your arms, a girl fainted. She fainted. And then she emptied out her purse when she came to. I'm not trying to be funny, Zac, but you're a handsome guy. Women like you. So take advantage of it!"
"It works for the girlie shows," Isaac pointed out.
"We're not a girlie show," Zac spat.
"Well," Taylor shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You don't have a choice but to wear short sleeves anyway."
"I don't care about impressing any women. I only care about impressing Bessie."
"Yeah," Taylor said, leaning over into Zac's face. "Well you care about making enough money to get back home to her, don't you? You care about saving enough money to start a good life with her, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he scowled.
"So, then, show the ladies what you got."
Sometimes Zac hated Taylor. His bond with him was the strongest, but sometimes so was his hate. He hated when Taylor had a point. He hated when he was logical and he hated when his ideas made sense. While he had no interest to catering to and flirting with any women at all, the idea of doing it all for Bessie was much too enticing. And while Taylor had a point with the way he'd already ruined all of Zac's clothes, he wasn't left with much of a choice anyway.
His eyes darting slowly from Taylor to Isaac and then back to Taylor, he confirmed warily, "So, I'm doing this for Bessie..."
"You're actually doing it for the money," Taylor shrugged. "But it's your money and you can do whatever the hell you want to with it."
"You really think people would want to buy photographs of us?"
"We couldn't keep them in stock way back then, remember?"
Isaac turned around from his stretched out form across one of the benches and arched an eyebrow. "Zac, they're buying photographs of a sleazy, fake hermaphrodite. I think we got this."
That exchange had been three days prior. Now, as they packed up to make their way to Philadelphia, Zac couldn't help but agree that it was the best idea they'd had. He didn't even want to think of the difference in the amount of money they would have made without Taylor's brilliant suggestions. In spite of himself, Zac even found himself enjoying the attention a little bit. The attention helped with his confidence and his confidence helped make the show more enjoyable which, in turn, increased their revenue.
It was awkward, writing that in a letter to Bessie. But he didn't want to hide anything from her, either. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. He wasn't using trick flowers like he promised he wouldn't. He wasn't kissing any of them or holding their hands or handing out false promises. He simply rolled his sleeves up and performed onstage. But the money was rolling in and she had to be grateful for that, didn't she? Sure, she did. She was the most trusting and understanding woman he'd ever met.
When they had made it into Philadelphia, Zac all but ordered Taylor to take at least a dozen pictures of the city for Bessie. He decided that, here, he would buy her a gift. Something extra special, just for her. Something meaningful and from the heart. Something that would make her smile and make him feel less guilty about having to make the effort to appeal to women to make money. Taylor and Isaac seemed to take to it like fish to water, but Zac felt worse and worse about it every single night when he attempted to lull himself to sleep. He found himself relying on the bottle more often just to get some shut-eye.
The moment they parked their trailer at the fairground in Philadelphia, Zac went straight to the telegram office to telegram Bessie of his arrival. It had been nearly a week now since he'd gotten anything from her and the desperation to hear from her was becoming overwhelming.
Ending his telegram with a "respond immediately," he stood in the telegram office and waited. And he waited. And he waited even longer. He managed to sit there and make the operators uncomfortable for the next three hours, no doubt angering his brothers, but nothing was matching the heat that was rising in his own body. He had expected Bessie to be chomping at the bit, waiting by the door or the mailbox for word from him. Tulsa wasn't that big a city--if she wasn't home, she could be found. It was going on hour four. Why wasn't she replying?
Finally, Zac had had it. His nostrils flared as he swallowed away the angry tears that were coming on fast and he stood up and stormed up to the nearest operator's booth. "I need to send another one," he barked.
"Um, yes, sir," the young brunette stammered, startled. "Where is it going?"
"Same place it went before," he snapped. "Except this time, make sure it reads, 'I hope you're having a great time with Billy.' Stop. 'Looks like it sure didn't take long for you to forget about me.' Stop. 'I hope he treats you the way you deserve to be treated.' Stop. 'But he will never love you the way I do.' Stop. Stop. Stop..." His breathing began to grow rapid as he spoke and his eyes darted around the room. "Stop." Is this what he wanted to say to her? Did he want to let his anger get the best of him before taking a moment and thinking it through first? After all, it's what nearly got him in trouble with Bessie the first time and he'd been trying very hard to keep his temper in check lately.
Then he glanced at the clock and remembered that he'd already had over four hours to think about it. And he wasn't any more satisfied.
Finally, he glared at the operator. "Send it," he ordered. Then he slammed the change down on the counter and stormed out of the office.
The moment he stepped outside, the thunder cracked and the rain exploded from the heavens. "Fucking hell," he muttered. Of course it was going to rain. When it rained, it poured, wasn't that the saying?
Walking back to the fairground, soaked to the bone, Zac was glad that Philadelphia was such a large city. Because he had absolutely no problem buying liquor off of a couple of bums and learning where the local speakeasies were. He was going to survive this trip one way or another, no matter what.