One Brief Shining Moment

002. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐂𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

July 10th, 1963 

It wasn't till the following Wednesday when the news that father had whispered to Evangeline last Friday night was finally announced the news to the family.

I had had buried my nose back into Cats Cradle, curled up in an Adirondack chair in our courtyard with pair of circular sunglasses resting on the bridge of my nose. I had rolled up the bottoms of my white capris, trying to give my knees some time to tan as I read, when the sound of the backdoor of the house opening reached my ears. Of course, if had Evangeline been the one to come down to the grassy lawn to fetch me, I'm sure I would have gotten an earful about such things as propriety and so on. But it was not her clicking heels that I heard coming down the courtyard's lane. No, these footsteps sounded stronger and more ominous.

And with them came the news that changed my life.

The footsteps belonged to Father, who came walking down the stone steps to fetch me with an odd sense of grandeur to him. He had just gotten home from work from the looks of it, his suit jacket swinging it over his shoulders as his pressed white shirt rode up a little from under his belt. The scant maids and workers hastily cleared a path for him, all chanting "Good afternoon, Mr. Bruce" as he passed, but he did nothing but nods politely their way. Father was usually an amiable man, but that day, his demeanor was different. 

He didn't look terse, but he was certainly not his usual relaxed self. 

I closed my book and put it down. This should be good.

"Elizabeth." He called, his voice calm but dense.

I got up from my bench chair and walked towards him quickly. Whatever it was that he had to tell me, I knew better then to dilly dally. I may have been Father's favorite, but Father was rigid in his ways. As the head of the house, you always came to him, not the other way around.  And like the rest of my family members, he  was not a particularly patient man. 

"Yes?" I asked politely, looking up at him.

"Evangeline and I have some news for the family" Father said in an even tone, "why don't you come upstairs."

I knew that it was not really a question of me coming up. Yet another one of his more subtle skills, Father was excellent at getting his point across firmly without a trace of emotion. Perhaps that's why he was such a good Ambassador. 

I sighed, nodding as we headed back into the rear entrance to the estate. I looked up at him again, but he made no move to remark on what the important news was. 

"What exactly is this family meeting about?" I inquired pointedly "Evangeline hasn't gone and got another dog again has she?"

"Elizabeth." Father replied, a warning tone in his voice. 

I rolled my eyes behind him, but said nothing in return. I may have been incorrigible smart mouth in my youth, another family trait, but even I knew better than to respond to his warning with another crack at Evangeline. Not yet at least. 

"We have some important news for the whole family." He continued as we walked. "So please, behave yourself."

I tightened my lip a little bit, but followed Father into the house without anymore interjections, winding through the elaborate rooms and hallways towards our destination. By the time we reached the drawing room, Evangeline was already drumming her nails against the expensive wood of one of the armchairs. Her and Father's children sat around her. Nicholas, the little hellion, was racing little shiny automobiles across the fine wood of the floor, making engine noises and knocking into other furniture. Alexandra, Evangeline's spitting image in both face and demeanor, was sitting primly on another rigid backed chair next to her mother, drawing in a sketch book. She look over at Evangeline every so often, shifting in her chair slightly to mirror her mother's appearance.