Category Archives: Fiction Series

Seasoning – Part 11

With the parlor, dining room and entrance way thoroughly dusted and swept, Hannah ventured down the hallway to the bedchambers.

There were three rooms. The first was decorated in beautiful soft shades of lavender and green. A princess canopy perched over the head of a white cast iron bed was draped in delicate lace that cascaded down each side. Across the room there was a vanity with an oval mirror and a matching tufted stool. From the turned down bed sheets, Hannah guessed that Helen had likely spent her nights here. She put the bed back together and dusted the furniture before pausing to glance at an array of framed photographs on the walls.

“I wonder who these people could be.” Hannah thought. There were several family portraits. She had no trouble picking Helen out. Even as a young girl, Helen had that same round face, wild, curly hair and infectious grin. There were always four children in the family groupings. Helen, who appeared to be the oldest, another girl, a few years younger, more petite in frame with straight dark hair, a boy with curly dark hair, a year or so behind her and then there was the youngest, who looked to be several years their junior. His brooding demeanor was in stark contrast to the other’s happy smiles and his jet black straight hair, dark eyes and pale complexion left no doubt in Hannah’s mind that this sour youngster was none other than Mr. Chambers.

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Painting by Harald Slott-Moller

“Oh my! What a sad little fellow you were…and, I hate to say it, still are! We will just have to see about that.” Hannah’s father often called her his little ray of sunshine; always barefoot with flowers in her hair. She was never content around anyone who seemed unhappy, making it her personal mission to cheer them. True to form she mused, “You, Mr. Chambers, might be my greatest challenge yet!”

Hannah moved swiftly through the next room, or the “Red Room” as she decided to call it. It was decidedly more masculine in its furnishings with a tall wardrobe on one wall and an assuming full canopy bed, set in the far corner, adorned in soft red velvet.

Finally, she entered the master room. Its walls were painted a cool teal; the ceiling, doors and window frames ornately set in gold leaf. The centerpiece of the room was the bed, draped in a full, four post, canopy arrayed in valances and panels of cobalt blue silk.  Despite the room’s elegance, it was clearly in need of tidying. Soiled clothes covered the floor and seating. Hannah gathered the garments to launder and opened the drapes to let the afternoon sun in while she put the rest of the room in order.

As she prepared dinner, Hannah thought about the photographs, and about Alice, speaking to her out loud as if she were in the room. “I wonder how you were able to get Mr. Chambers to smile, Alice. I am assuming of course, that you did, because I am certain that no woman would even think of marrying such a petulant man as I have witnessed these last few days. At least I would like to think there is another side to him. And I believe it’s totally understandable that he is likely heartbroken to have lost you!  Oh Alice, you can be sure that I will take good care of your Henry. Don’t you worry.”

Mr. Chambers would be returning home soon. Hannah decided to freshen up before dinner, starting with brushing the dust and cobwebs from her hair. She applied a hint of rouge to her cheeks and lips and pulled her hair up into a soft swirl tying it in place with ribbon. Finally, she selected a modest tea dress to wear. “It’s going to be a lovely evening,” she told herself.

The front door opened just as Hannah returned to the kitchen. She glanced through the doorway to see Henry’s back as he took off his coat. For the first time Hannah noticed his tall frame and broad sturdy shoulders. “If he wasn’t scowling all the time, some people might even find him quite attractive,” she thought. When he turned around, Hannah, who had lapsed into a mindless stare startled, and then quickly regained her composure.

“Oh! Good evening Mr. Chambers.” Hannah’s face flushed red. “I hope you had a good day. I’ve prepared dinner.”

Henry looked at her and shook his head with his usual grim expression. “You’re still here I see. Well, at least I won’t have to deal with my sister this evening! But Miss…Hannah is it?”

“Yes sir, it’s Hannah.”

“Well, Hannah, I thought I made it clear that there would be no cooking for me in this house. As I said, I take my meals out.”

“Sir, I have strict instructions from your sister …”

“She is an infuriating, old bag of meddlesome trouble. That’s Helen. I would prefer, Hannah, now that she has gone back to where she belongs,” Henry let out an exasperated sigh, “I would prefer that you take your direction from me. I can see that you could be useful to me here. I don’t have time to keep this house in order. And Helen mentioned you were a gardener. I would very much like someone to take the time to revive that eyesore into something, anything green.”

“I am happy to help in any way that is useful. And yes, my father taught me gardening. Have you had dinner yet?” Hannah wasn’t going to let him rush out like the night before. “You might as well have a seat and let me serve you dinner here. By the looks of it,” Hannah glanced out the window, “we are in for a bit of a storm tonight.”

“I think you’re right. About the storm.”  Henry walked into the dining room. “Now don’t think for a moment that I’m going to make a habit of this. However, I am not in the mood to get caught in a downpour.” He sat down. “I only see one plate. You are going to join me, aren’t you?”

“No sir!” Hannah blurted. “I mean, I assumed I would have dinner in the kitchen.”

“Nonsense! I detest eating alone. Why do you think I eat at the pub?”

Much to her surprise, Hannah noticed the corner of Henry’s mouth curving upward ever so slightly and his eyebrow lifting. “A smile! Could it truly be, or am I imagining it?” she wondered to herself.

“Well I don’t like eating alone either,” Hannah responded, “I certainly do understand Mr. Chambers. I’ll have dinner served in just a minute.”

Hannah began to think that she may have misjudged Henry Chambers; that he might not be as surly and unsociable as he seemed. She quickly arranged roasted vegetables and beef and a loaf of bread saucer of butter onto a large serving tray, grabbing a plate and extra set of silver for herself.

Meanwhile in the dining room as Henry waited, he thought about the last time he had sat like this, warm aromas wafting from kitchen, his beloved wife chattering happily as she served him dinner. A dark cloud of melancholy overtook him as the storm outside began to worsen.

By the time Hannah returned he was pushing himself away from the table.

“Please sir, just have a bite or two. It saddens me to see you suffering so.”

Henry fumed, “What makes you think I am suffering? You probably don’t know the first thing about suffering, Miss! This was a bad idea. A very bad idea!”

Hannah set the tray on the table and slumped into the nearest chair. She would not beg him. What a fool she had been to think that this evening would be any different from the night before.

The steaming food on the platter caught Henry’s attention, “Maybe I will have a bite.”

Hannah looked up, smiled and began dinner service when a monstrous bolt of lightning ripped through one of the trees in front of the house. The lights flickered for a second, before going completely black. As thunder shook the house, neither of them moved, sitting there silently in the dark.

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Part 11 in a continuing series prompted initially by Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge. While I still try to incorporate the wonderful artwork that Jane presents to us each week, this story has taken on a life of its own and I am rarely able to limit the word count. I hope you don’t mind. I will continue to link it here because many of you are following along. If you’d like to read other chapters, I have assembled them HERE. Thank you Jane for the inspiration and encouragement to keep this little story alive. I’m sure I’m doing this all backwards, but I am loving the ride! 🙂


Seasoning – Part 10

Another installment inspired in part by this lovely painting by Casper David Fredrich and Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge.

Seasoning – Part 10

“Well, I’m off to pack! Breakfast was wonderful Hannah!”

“My pleasure ma’am.” Hannah forced a smile until Helen left the room. She glanced at Helen’s list of duties. It included daily as well as additional tasks specific to each day of the week. It was exactly what Hannah expected. Her mother had prepared her well.

She cleared the table and washed the dishes, grateful for the work that laid ahead. The whirlwind of the past few days had nearly undone her, but Hannah was determined.

She gathered the broom and duster and headed into the parlor. Hannah liked to dust. It gave her a chance to examine the valuable trinkets and photographs that lined the mantle and shelves in regal homes such as this. The things people collect, and the photographs that they display, often tell hidden stories that are never mentioned in polite conversation.

There were a number of jade figurines, flanked by beautifully ornate faberge eggs on the mantle. A floor to ceiling corner cabinet contained more treasures: a China tea set, several carved tiny boxes and a silver service. Hannah was so enthralled with the interesting array of knickknacks that she didn’t notice the absence of family photographs. 

There were only two framed prints on the mantle, an early photograph of the house and one of the garden. She was mesmerized by the garden photograph. Even in black and white, there was no denying the vibrant splendor of the garden. The broken arbor that she had noticed the day before was beautiful and strong, cloaked in climbing vines. Hannah leaned in. “Mmm, I wonder if that’s wisteria…”

“Ah, you’ve found a photograph of our garden back in its day. Shows you what that old yard of weeds can be, with a bit of attention!” Helen entered the parlor, her coat draped over her arm and suitcase in tow. “The taxi should be arriving soon. Do you have any questions before I leave Hannah?”

“Just one. Is that wisteria covering the arbor?”

Helen laughed, “Oh my, I can see that I’m leaving the garden…and our family home in very good hands! It is wisteria. My mother’s favorite.”

“Mine too.” Hannah beamed.

“The taxi has arrived. Please tell the driver to help me with my bags.”

Hannah rushed past Helen to greet the driver. “Hello sir. Come in please. We have some luggage.”

Helen winked at Hannah as she followed the driver out the door. “My brother has a hard shell Hannah, but he’s a good egg. Give it time, you’ll see.”

Hannah sighed, smiling to herself as she leaned against the door. Ideas were swirling around in her head. She rushed past the parlor through the breezeway and out the back door to the garden.

Hannah stood in the middle of the brush taking it all in, “Tomorrow. Yes! Tomorrow my green friend, you and I will get to know one another!”

She returned to the house to finish her chores and plan dinner. “This is an important night.” she told the broom as she swept the entranceway. “As you know, we need to impress Mr. Chambers.” Hannah smiled, confident that she would crack that egg!

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Read Parts 1-9 HERE.


Seasoning – Part 9

Note: This little story started in response to Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge. I do enjoy the continued influence of her weekly prompts and paintings. It is pure synchronicity that they always blend right into the narrative. But please forgive me for not following the rules. I am clearly coloring outside the box here or rather, spilling over the word count limit. That said, this is not a true entry for this week’s prompt, but I hope to continue tagging along as this story progresses. The image this week is by Henri Rousseau. It’s not a perfect fit, however the theme is spot on.  I may write a separate 200 word story as well. But for those of you following this one…I give you Seasoning – Part 9. You can read previous installments HERE.

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Painting by Henri Rouseau – Un matin de pluie (One Rainy Morning)

“Abandoned”

Hannah woke to the fluttering trill of birdsong. She peered out the window to see mist hovering in patches over the garden while the sun glowed red behind the trees bordering the horizon. It reminded her of a story from her childhood. “All birds sing in the morning, each one checking in with the others to let them know they have survived the night.”

Hannah pursed her lips and chirped softly, “Peep, peep, peep. I too survived the night my little friends.”

She splashed cool water on her face, pulled her hair into a twist and dressed in a simple a-lined dress topped with a loose fitting jumper.

The house was quiet so Hannah took the opportunity to explore. Next to the kitchen she found a pantry, a closet with cleaning tools and a mud room with laundry area and shelves with garden tools and clay pots.

Back in the kitchen, she assembled the coffee pot. While it brewed, Hannah gathered butter from the icebox, several fresh eggs from a blue ceramic bowl on the counter and bread for toasting.

“I see you’re finding your way around Hannah! Ah, fresh coffee. My favorite thing to wake up to!”

“Yes Ma’am! Good morning! How do you take your eggs? By the way, I love this kitchen!”

“Well you know what they say, the kitchen is the heart of a home, and Alice, well, she loved to cook, loved this kitchen.” Helen paused, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “Poached, I take my eggs poached.” She dabbed the tears from her cheeks and sipped coffee while Hannah prepared poached eggs and toast to perfection.

“Oh, this is delicious! Now have a seat Hannah. I’ve written a schedule for you and numbers for the market, pharmacy, butcher, doctor, and the Gordons who live next door. That’s where you can get more of those eggs. Mrs. Gordon, Margery, told me to tell you to call or stop by anytime. She’s a bit of a talker, but a very nice woman.”

“Will Mr. Chambers be joining us for breakfast?”

The front door slammed. “Well there’s our answer! Honestly Hannah, I’m so sorry he’s being such…ugh! He just infuriates me so!” Helen tapped her fingertips on the table, “We need a plan. I want you to prepare breakfast and dinner each day, whether he eats it or not. Set a place at the table.”

“But what if he leaves it to spoil?”

“You’re going to need good compost for that garden of yours. Just consider it food for the flowers! Now, I know that I said I planned to stay until you got settled in, but I’m afraid I am needed back up north. Our dear Aunt Millie has taken ill. You understand.”

“You’re leaving? But I just got here! What if I…I’m sorry, of course, I understand.”

“It’s all spelled out Hannah. I took great care to list every detail.” Helen tapped the instructions on the table. “Of course you can call me and Margery is next door. I do hope you’ll manage to find time for that garden. Spring is just around the corner! Not to worry, I’ll be back in a few months to check on you.”

“Yes Ma’am. When are you leaving?”

“This afternoon. The train leaves in four hours.”

 

 


Seasoning – Part 7

“Far, far away Soria Moria Palace shimmered like Gold” by Theodor Kittelsen


Hannah followed Helen past the kitchen through a breezeway that flanked the back of the house. She paused to gaze at the garden.

“I hope your green thumbs are up to the challenge dear!” Helen walked back to Hannah. “Breaks my heart to see it like this. You know, back when I was growing up, my grandmother raised climbing rose bushes over there,” she pointed at a weather worn teak arbor. “And my mum, when she had charge of the grounds, filled the raised beds with herbs and plants suitable for teas and tinctures. Our pantry’s rafters were full of drying plant bundles!

Hannah smiled as she imagined the life that once thrived in the weed tangled, overgrown mess. “I love herb gardens. We had one at Waverly, and a vegetable garden too. Every meal my mother prepared included something from the garden. And I remember too, when my sister and I couldn’t sleep, mother would take a bunch of lavender and crush the buds between her fingertips before fluffing our pillows.”

“Ah, your mother was a wise woman. I don’t have any plans for the garden, Hannah. Consider it your special project.” Helen motioned Hannah to the end of the hall.

“Well here you are.” Helen opened the door. “Make yourself at home. Tonight, a surprise! I’m cooking! Dinner is in an hour!”

Henry had retreated to his room after his rude outburst. Exhausted, he threw himself over the bed, soon tossing into fitful, restless sleep, haunted by a recurring nightmare. In it, he was a boy gazing at an elusive city that always glowed just past the horizon despite his attempts to reach it. Happiness resided there. And somehow he sensed his Alice was there too.

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This is the seventh installment of a series in response to Jane Dougherty’s Weekly Microfiction Challenge. This week’s prompt is the painting, “Far, far away Soria Moria Palace shimmered like Gold” by Theodor Kittelsen. It is based on a Norwegian fairy tale that you can read by clicking HERE.

Find  previous installments HERE


Seasoning – Part 6

Seasoning – Part 6

It had been a stormy day. As the taxi rounded the curve at the edge of Waverly Estate, a beautiful full rainbow graced the dark skies in the distance. Hannah just knew it was a sign that her dreams were coming true. The whole world was opening up to her. She settled into her seat, leaning her head against the window, taking it all in as the taxi headed to the city.

Henry was not happy with his sister.

“How dare you come here unannounced and take it upon yourself to manage my life as if you know what I need! You’ve crossed the line this time Helen. When this person arrives, you can send her right back where she came from. I have no use for her, or for you. And don’t get too comfortable here. I expect you to make arrangements to leave on the next train!”

“Well Henry, that is simply not an option. I’m protecting my own interest in this home as well you know. I refuse to let you run it into the ground! Our parents, and their parents before them would be heartbroken over how you’ve let things go. I’ll not have it! And you, dear brother need to get a grip. It’s been three years Henry! Alice, and yes I’ll say her name…Alice would be so sad to see you like this!”

The doorbell chimed.

“Remember what I said Henry,” Helen admonished as she glanced through the window at the taxi at the curb, “I expect you to be cordial to this young woman.

Helen opened the door while Henry scowled, arms crossed, in the parlor.

“Hello Hannah dear, i hope you didn’t encounter that awful storm on your trip. So nice to finally meet you in person!”

“Hello Mrs. Chambers.”

“Please call me Helen.”

Hannah smiled, “Hello Helen. And no, we missed the storm! Actually there was the most beautiful rainbow…” Hannah’s escalating enthusiasm faded slightly as she glimpsed a sullen Henry standing in the parlor.

Helen followed her glance, “Hannah, this is my brother Henry. He lives here. I’m just visiting as you know, and plan to stay until you’re comfortable with your duties.”

Henry stepped forward ignoring Hannah’s extended hand. “To be clear Miss, your presence here is my meddling sister’s doing. I have no need for a housekeeper or gardener or whatever else it is that she’s hired you to do. I take my meals out and work long hours. You and I will get on as long as I don’t see or hear you.” Henry glared at his sister as he stormed out of the room.

Hannah flashed a confused look toward Helen who chuckled, “Don’t pay him any mind Hannah. He’ll warm up to the idea, and to you soon enough. Let’s get you settled in your quarters.

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Installment #6 of a fiction series prompted by Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge and this Rainbow painting. You can read other installments HERE and scrolling to the series named Seasoning.