October 27, 1928
The preparations for the costume party continue to grow. In fact, it has worked out rather perfectly; I have partnered with Miss Jacobs this week, allowing for me to apply to her for outfit ideas. When I first asked her about it, she was unwilling to help me; but after realizing what a completely and utterly helpless case I was, she swiftly leaned in to help.
Jacobs was quick to ascertain that I had not changed my mind in working with her on Sunday. Before I had even entered the room, she laid a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. "You haven't forgotten our arrangement?"
"There's no need to act so frightening, of course I haven't," I cried.
She nodded. "I apologize. Just making sure. Girls like you are always a little wishy-washy when it comes to plans. No offense, of course."
Bridget was disappointed to learn of my partnership with Jacobs, but was too relieved to be free of Maxwell to harbor much complaint. "Damn it Rosie, really now, I really did want to work with you," she sighed, twirling a lock of hair absentmindedly. "Really, honestly, I did. I think we'd be great partners, you know. You're smart, I'm smart. Whenever we get around to our project together, I bet I'll just be the elephant's eyebrows, I'm telling you, we're sure to win that cash, we sure are, there's no doubt about it. Don't put too much effort into anything until we work together, you know, because then you might win with someone else, and that would just make me the green-eyed monster, now, it would. I haven't put myself into too much of a sweat with anything I've worked on so far, you know, because I've been saving all that for when I work with you, obviously. I didn't even talk to Maxwell last week, see, because I really didn't feel like it, and I just thought to myself, 'Well, why bother doing something I don't really want to do if I'm certain nothing good is going to come out of it anyways?' Or at least something that I would want to win, that is. I do have an edge, you know, I'm pretty talented, I think, so if I tried too hard I probably would have made something that would win on accident. Now, I'm just joking, Rosie, but you never know, so that's why I didn't make anything at all in the last two weeks, really, I didn't."
"But Bridget! Doesn't Mr. Harp want you to at least try?" Audrey said. "He has an exhibition he needs to fill up. You should have done something."
"Oh, let George do it. I don't really care. Mr. Harp should have thought about that before he invited us all here without telling us about the exhibit!"
"Maybe you can work with Bridget," I suggested hopefully to Audrey.
"Oh, you already know I'm workin' with Stenhouse," she said playfully. "Stop worryin', Rosie! It's all going to be fine. Besides, Abbott doesn't have anyone to work with yet. Maybe Bridget can pair up with him."
"But he won't let me play the piano! I don't want to work with someone who won't let me play the piano."
After some mild convincing, Bridget finally agreed that, compared to the other possible partners she might end up with and their own crimes against her, this outrage was not as great as it could be, and that she wouldn't mind working with Abbott. "Maybe he can finally teach me the names of the notes," she said brightly.
Harrison and I have agreed to work with each other next time. I regret keeping him waiting for so long, but it hasn't been my fault; besides, what is another two weeks more? We see and speak to each other every day. We already may as well be work partners, for all the time we spend together.
I'm not sure what to make of us. Neither of us have admitted to anything more than a close friendship, but I doubt anyone is surprised when I admit I deem us dearer than that. He surprises me with kind gestures like flowers and songs, some of which he composes himself (or at least tries to- it is very amusing to decipher the lines!). And, of course, there's no forgetting our wonderful night out on the Marine Roof. Really, if I was courageous enough to say it, I would call our friendship a courtship!
YOU ARE READING
Harp's Manor
Historical Fiction"I don't know how she managed to do it, but with just one pan of eggs, she set the entire kitchen ablaze. I'm not surprised, to be clear. Just rather disappointed." Taken from the pages of the fictional '20s periodical The Saturday Gazette, Harp's M...