Page 11 of May I Kiss the Bride

HER SUMMER SPENT IN WYOMING turned out to be only three weeks, but Viola wasn’t returning home to become mired in avoiding gossip about her broken engagement.

She was returning home to have a frank conversation with her parents.

Aunt Beth had hated to see her leave so soon, but she’d also encouraged it and promised that she’d let Della and Sidney take on more responsibilities at the bakery.

Which was why Viola was now walking up the steps to her family’s large home and ringing the bell like she was a visitor. She didn’t want to burst into the house and shock everyone.

She glanced back at the carriage she’d hired and left her luggage on. The driver had agreed to wait on the side of the road until she let him know if she’d be staying here or going someplace else.

The housekeeper, Macy, answered the door, and her eyes rounded to the size of saucers. “Miss Delany … you’re back?”

“Yes.” She gave a wide smile, but her stomach had cinched into knots. “Are Mother and Father home?”

“Of course, it’s early yet. Come in. Let me help you with your luggage.”

Viola had divvied up several of her nicer dresses and hats to Sidney and Della, who were both delighted with the gifts. So Viola only had one trunk and one carpetbag. “The driver can keep an eye on it until I speak to my parents.”

She followed Macy into the house and looked about as if seeing it for the first time.

Her three weeks’ absence had made everything seem so different and foreign.

The noise and traffic of downtown San Francisco.

The boats upon the water, dotting the bay.

The steep hills that her hired carriage had traversed.

And now the polished floors and pillars of her home.

The click of heels came along the corridor leading to the library, and her mother walked into view.

She stopped abruptly with a gasp. Her blonde hair was done up in an elegant twist, and diamonds graced her earlobes and neck.

Her makeup was carefully and impeccably applied, and she wore a cream blouse and pale pink skirt.

“Viola … what in heaven’s name? Has something happened? Why didn’t you tell us you were returning so soon?”

The rush of words was like standing beneath a cold waterfall, because Viola knew her mother wouldn’t like her answers.

“I have an urgent matter to discuss with you and Father, and I thought it would be better in person.”

Her mother’s brows dipped. “Has something happened to Beth? Or to you? Did my sister mistreat you?” Her voice went up an octave.

“Nothing like that. I’m perfectly well, and Aunt Beth is managing just fine in my absence. She was managing fine before—we all know why I really went to Wyoming.”

“Well.” Her mother crossed to her and kissed her on the cheek—a kiss that Viola barely felt.

“You’re just in time to attend the art gala tonight.

It’s black-tie, and your ex-fiancé is still not attending events, so you should be safe from seeing him.

It might be good to show your proud face in public, after all. ”

“I won’t be attending any galas, Mother.”

“Why not?” Mother’s eyes narrowed. “What is it that must be discussed so urgently? Is there a man in this story? Have you been … compromised?”

The look of horror and fear in her mother’s eyes almost made Viola laugh. The lengths that Sheriff Rey had gone to stop even the mildest of flirting men had quite prevented any “compromising,” as her mother might refer to it.

“No one has been compromised, Mother.” Viola heaved a sigh. “Now, where is Father?”

“In the library.” Mother’s eyes narrowed once again. “I was just about to speak with him. He will certainly be surprised to see you.”

Viola began to walk toward the library, and her mother’s clicking heels caught up.

“What is this all about, Viola? You know your father doesn’t like to be bothered with—”

Viola knocked on the closed library door, then, without waiting for any sort of inquiry, she opened the door and walked in.

The next few moments were filled with surprise on her father’s part and fussing on her mother’s part.

Father rose from his chair behind a large desk and walked around it to clasp both of Viola’s arms. He wore a light gray suit and his shoes were shined to a high polish.

His mustache twitched as he looked her over.

“You’ve had too much sun, Viola. Sit and drink something.

I knew sending you to your mother’s sister’s place was a mistake.

We should have sent you to Philadelphia to spend the summer with my brother’s family.

It’s farther away, but it’s at least civilized and modern—”

“No, that’s not what this is about,” Viola cut in before her father’s tangent could continue. She stepped away from both of her parents. “I’ve made a decision about my future, and I’ve returned to San Francisco to begin the inquiries.”

“Inquiries into what?” Father asked, lines creasing his forehead.

“Nursing school.” Viola paused as both of her parents frowned.

“I’m twenty-seven and the survivor of a failed engagement.

I’ve done things your way my entire life.

I don’t want another five or ten years to go by and not find out what I can really accomplish in life.

Sitting around and hoping for another man to propose isn’t my idea of fulfillment. ”

“You wouldn’t be sitting around,” Mother cut in. “Besides, the wait will be worth it. Marriage is wonderful, and you’ll become a mother with beautiful children.”

“Maybe,” Viola said. “Maybe that will happen, but I’m not going to force it.

I’m not going to court a man just because his father is a friend of our family’s.

I don’t want a man who looks at me for an inheritance to pad his own pockets.

I want to do something that matters. To me and to other people. ”

Father folded his arms. “And nursing school is going to bring you such fulfillment?”

Mother covered her mouth and sat on a chair.

“You’ve been reading too many articles written by feminists.

You’re educated, Viola, and now it’s time you use that education toward creating a marriage and raising a family.

Nursing work is for spinsters who have no other options in life.

You’re beautiful and still young, and you come from a family of privilege and impeccable reputation. ”

“I don’t have anything against the right marriage, and I’ll be happy to have children if the situation presents itself,” Viola said.

Her father’s face was reddening, and she knew his outburst was coming soon.

“But I’m finished with high society. Whether or not you support me in nursing school won’t change my mind.

There are scholarships I can apply for, and most of these schools provide boarding. ”

Her father’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Viola, you’ve had a long journey,” her mother said. “Why don’t you rest and then we can all discuss your time in Wyoming when you’re feeling refreshed.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Father cut in, his tone measured.

“I don’t need time to think this over, and it’s clear that our daughter has done nothing but make plans without our consent.

” His gaze cut to his wife’s, then back to Viola.

“If you choose this course of action, Viola, after all we’ve done and provided for you …

after all the protection we’ve offered you from this scandal, then you had better pray for a scholarship.

Because no daughter of mine whom I’d ever claim will reduce herself to the job market. ”

When his fist slammed down onto the desk, Viola jumped.

Her father’s anger was no surprise, yet to be standing here, after so many weeks away, and to hear his decisive words still cut deeply.

“All right, then,” Viola said, her voice a scratch inside her throat.

“I won’t trouble you with this anymore. I will write to you of my progress, but don’t feel obligated to write back.

” She recited the words she had practiced in her head during the long trip home.

Otherwise, she would have melted like a puddle and broken into tears. She’d do that later.

Her eyes stung, and her neck muscles felt strained as she walked out of the library.

“Viola dear, stay and think this over. You’ve given us quite the shock. We have some time to work through things and maybe—”

Her mother’s voice sounded like it was about to break, and Viola knew if she didn’t keep moving, she’d give in and stay longer. But her father’s words had been plain and final.

“Genevieve,” Father’s voice rumbled. “We aren’t groveling to make her stay. She has made up her mind.”

We can both be stubborn , Viola thought as a tear escaped anyway. She’d reached the door. With jerky movements, she tugged the door open. She was grateful she’d told the carriage driver to wait for her, even if that knowledge didn’t make her happy.

What did she expect? This. Yet the ache was deep and painful.

“If they don’t support your plan, you come back here,” Aunt Beth had told her. “We’ll send out applications to every nursing school you’re interested in. There’s no rush on anything, but there’s no harm in getting started.”

Viola swiped at the tears on her cheeks and approached the driver of the carriage. “Thanks for waiting. Can you take me to back to the hotel?”

The hotel was close to the nursing school on California Street and Maple. Viola didn’t have unlimited funds, just what she’d earned at the bakery, plus the money she’d traveled with—which she’d spent on the return ticket.

“Sure thing, ma’am,” the driver said.

Riding through the streets this time was a different feeling.

Gone were the hope and anticipation of the hour before.

Now those feelings were replaced by dejection …

so she’d allow herself a few tears right now.

Once she reached the nursing school, she’d need to push forward with the next part of her plan.

She was an independent woman now, no longer under the umbrella of her parents’ control. This was what she wanted, right?

After the carriage pulled up to the hotel and Viola had checked into her room, she paused in front of the bedroom mirror. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks blotchy. But she didn’t want to delay her visit to the nursing school. If they didn’t have an opening, she’d have to make other plans.

The nursing school was a short walk from the hotel, and when Viola entered the front door of the building, she was surprised to see the place empty save for one woman sitting at a reception desk.

“Oh, hello,” Viola said.

The woman rose to her feet and adjusted her spectacles. Viola guessed her to be in her mid-thirties. The nameplate on her desk said Miss Barnwell. “Did you have an appointment? I’m afraid that today is a field day, so the director isn’t here.”

Viola wasn’t sure what a field day was. “I don’t have an appointment. My name is Viola Delany, and I’m here to inquire about an application and possible availability to the school.”

“Ah.” Miss Barnwell’s brown eyes narrowed. “Who sent you? We don’t open enrollment until the beginning of next year.”

“January?” It was the end of July, so that wasn’t helpful at all. “I didn’t realize. I …” Her voice quivered. That would not do at all. She drew in a steadying breath. “I should have done my research better.”

Viola should have spent more time in her hotel room, working through her emotions, because to her horror, she began to cry. She tried to sniffle back the tears and keep her body from trembling, but it was no use.

“Oh, you poor woman, have a seat.” Miss Barnwell came around her desk and offered Viola a chair.

She sank into it gratefully and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe at her face “I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult couple of days. I guess I’m at the end of my rope.”

“Where are you from?” Miss Barnwell asked, her voice gentle, as she sat across from Viola.

The entire story spilled out. From Viola’s broken engagement to working at the bakery in Mayfair to the row with her parents.

Miss Barnwell listened to every word, offering sympathy as Viola talked.

“I’m so sorry to dump my life story on you,” Viola said, wiping at her face again although it did little good. The tears kept coming.

“I knew there was a reason I stayed in the office today,” Miss Barnwell said. “If you’d like, I can speak to the director tomorrow. Maybe there will be an exception. Once in a while a student has to drop out for one reason or another.”

Viola felt a spark of hope ignite. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden to anyone.”

“Oh, my dear, you won’t be. In fact, you can take the assessment if you have time right now. It’s about an hour-long test, and it would be good to have that in hand when I speak to the director.”

Viola stared at Miss Barnwell. “I could do that right now?”

“If you have time?”

Viola gave a half laugh. “I have all the time in the world.”