Page 15 of Mrs. Victoria Buys A Brothel

C hapter 15

The white dress

The next Church Weekend, “The big one” as dubbed by the girls, was approaching quickly. Victoria spent her days practicing bartending and being quizzed on accounting by a very demanding Siobhan. Consuelo was slightly manic, constantly rearranging the tables while Paul built them a stage. As for Lisette, she seemed sad and distracted.

Consuelo eventually called a secret house meeting about it.

“I heard her crying,” she whispered. “That’s the third time this week.”

“Maybe she’s in love?” Victoria suggested. “She’s a romantic.”

Siobhan rolled her eyes. “Lisette’s always in love with someone. There’s always a cowboy, a soldier or a farmer that promises to marry her and get her out of this life. She obsesses over it, they don’t come back, and she cries.”

“Indeed?” Victoria asked. “I’ve never seen her do that.”

Consuelo frowned. “You’re right, it has been a while. I think this is more serious.”

“It’s all those books,” said Siobhan with a dismissive wave. “She’s been reading through that crate of stupid romances and yesterday she was carrying the big Shakespeare one around.”

“Maybe she’s in love with the new doctor?” mused Consuelo. “He’s our age.”

“He’s weird ,” cut Siobhan. “Give her some credit, she’s got better taste than that.”

Doctor Sampleton had moved next to the brothel the week prior. He was young but already starting to go bald, had sunken eyes and strange, bony hands. All that would have meant little, but he was also curt, silent, and had a tendency to stare for too long. He had not made any effort to befriend his neighbours or the rest of the town, and had barely said two words to Victoria, who had hired him.

“I heard from Mrs.Smith that he took the job to find a wife here, because no one in Rock Springs would marry him,” said Consuelo.

“I heard from Deborah that his fiancée died and he couldn’t bear the pain,” added Victoria.

“And I heard from Mrs.Zhao he’s wanted for desecrating corpses,” said Siobhan. “Either way, I’m telling you, Lisette is not after him. She likes them taller and prettier.”

A knock made them all jump apart in guilt. Mei Zhao stood in the open door, a book under her arm.

“Good afternoon,” she said, still timid after all this time. “I finished this one, may I borrow another?”

“Of course, my dear,” said Victoria, ushering her in. “Did you enjoy it?”

Mei frowned at the cover. “I think it’s a bit too advanced for me. I don’t understand all the graphs.”

Siobhan’s head snapped up. “Is that a numbers book? Victoria, you didn’t tell me you ordered a numbers book!”

“I’ve mentioned it several times since the delivery, but you never listen.”

Siobhan grabbed the book from Mei’s hands and flickered through its pages. “Oh, that’s good stuff. Let me read it and I’ll explain it back to you, kid. Huh, I didn’t know you could do that with letters. Nice. Hey Victoria, can I have it, next?”

“I did order it for you, honey. Either way, besides you two, no one in town would be interested.” Victoria walked to the crate of books, permanently stationed on the bar. She had to order some more because the inhabitants of Swainsburg had devoured what she had brought from SaltLake City. “I mostly requested fiction. There is one on the history of the world that could interest you, Mei. I hoped to get you something in Mandarin this time, however there was nothing in the catalogue. Poor David even went to Plum Alley but found no one to help him.”

“That’s alright, I’ll go myself when I’m old enough. Please don’t tell my mother, though, she would lock me up.”

Victoria thought of Belle Porter, waiting patiently to add Mei to her collection. She could relate to Mrs.Zhao’s fear.

Mei grabbed the new book, opening it hungrily. “Thank you, Mrs.Victoria,” she said while already reading the first page.

“Always a pleasure, dear child.”

Mei was about to step out when she stopped and brusquely turned back. “Oh! I almost forgot! My mother says the dresses are ready.”

Lisette’s door opened with a bang.

“The dresses?” she squealed, nearly falling over the railing. “You should have started with that!”

*

Since they could not all squeeze in Mrs.Zhao’s tiny workshop, they had to bring the dresses to the brothel for a last fitting. Consuelo wanted to hide them in canvas bags and Mrs.Zhao refused to fold them, it took them a while to reach a compromise and simply cover them in sheets. The warm afternoon had most of the townspeople sitting on their porches, and it was with unabashed curiosity that they watched their little procession cross the street.

Lisette was jumping in place. “Oh, s’il vous pla?t , can I try mine first?”

“No way, you’re going to take an hour just to do your hair,” said Siobhan.

“We’re all doing this at the same time,” cut Consuelo. “Everyone, to your rooms. If you need help, call Mrs.Zhao.”

“Please don’t need my help,” said the latter, sitting down and putting her feet up on another chair. “I just came to get a break and a drink.”

Victoria served her and then retreated to her own room. She was already familiar with the dress, with the delicate feel of the fabric and the intricate work of the bodice. What she uncovered was even more beautiful.

She put it on and tightened the back lacing with trembling hands. She knew, theoretically, that Mrs.Zhao had altered it with her new measurements, and yet she was not ready to fit in her old wedding dress. The bodice shaped her curves and sat comfortably on her wide hips. The neckline was the lowest she had ever worn. She pushed her breasts to place them correctly in the corset and was a bit overwhelmed by how indecent, and how good, they looked.

Mrs.Zhao had rearranged the puffy sleeves so they would start lower on her arms, leaving Victoria’s shoulders and neck bare. As for the skirts, they had been doubled with the leftover bridal train, and several layers of petticoats added to its volume. It was cut to her mid-thigh at the front, and the back reached her calves.

“People are going to see my knees!” she muttered, a bit hysterical. She turned this way and that, trying to see herself in the tiny mirror. “This is ridiculous. An old woman dressing up like a teenager.”

But the fabric was nice and the beading was exquisite. She could ask Mrs.Zhao to make some additions, maybe cover her more. There was probably material left from the train.

A pair of very short bloomers was included. Victoria sighed and committed herself to the act. She also put on the delicate stockings, long gloves, and the pretty shoes she had ordered, pristine white ankle boots with a row of pearl buttons. It was pure folly to get these in a town made of dirt.

She frowned at the mirror, undid a strand or two from her bun. She didn’t bother with rouge, afraid of staining the fabric. She felt silly and overexposed, but Mrs.Zhao had worked very hard on a piece of art. The least she could do was present it with pride.

“Victoria!” shouted Siobhan. “You’re the only one left!”

“Because you kicked me out of my room!” snapped back Lisette. “I was not done with my hair!”

Victoria took a deep breath and stepped out.

There was a moment of silence, then Lisette’s very high-pitched squeal.

“Oh my God,” said Siobhan. “We’re going to make so much money.”

Consuelo nodded fervently, her hands covering her mouth.

All three of them were beautiful in their own brightly coloured ensembles. They ran up, drowning Victoria in a sea of frills and lace.

“I didn’t know you could look like that!” said Consuelo.

“Have you seen the beading?” sighed Lisette.

“Have you seen her cleavage?” shouted Siobhan. “You could lose a horse in there!”

Victoria batted their hands away. “Girls, please. You’re all very kind, but I am not sure it suits me. I feel foolish, an old woman in a young woman’s clothes… Hualing, is there any fabric left? The front skirts are rather short.”

“No, they’re perfect,” she retorted. “It makes your legs look fantastic.”

Consuelo nodded. “They do look good. You can even catch a glimpse of skin right above the stocking. Maybe put a coloured ribbon to catch the eye.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I like how you think,” chuckled Mrs.Zhao.

Victoria sighed. “You’re all gorgeous, but no one would want to see an old woman’s underwear.”

Consuelo snapped her fingers. “Underwear! There’s an idea, I’m sure there’s a market for that. We could auction off your—”

“ No!”

Consuelo raised her hands in self-defence. “I’m just thinking out loud.”

Siobhan walked to the bar. “I’m too sober to look this girly,” she served them shots of whisky. “Here, bottoms up.”

“To Mrs.Zhao!” shouted Consuelo.

“To Mrs.Zhao!”

“To me!” shouted Mrs.Zhao.

They paraded their dresses, laughing and drinking with the seamstress. After two more rounds, Mrs.Zhao had to beg them to let her leave.

“If I drink any more, I’ll get lost on the way home!” she giggled. “Be careful with your dresses, I don’t want to have to clean them too soon!”

Once she left, Lisette turned to them, her blue skirts following gracefully. “We can practice the cancan, now! Is the stage ready?”

“The frame is solid, it just needs a coat of paint,” said Consuelo. “Paul is also making some lamps to get us decent lighting.”

“Alright, how hard could it be?” shrugged Siobhan. “You said it’s mostly kicking and showing off our underwear, no?”

“I’m leaving you to it, then,” giggled Victoria, the whisky going to her head. “I’ll be playing the piano. I’ll find you a couple of songs…”

The girls grabbed her and pleaded. Now that she was a bit tipsy, the idea did not seem as ludicrous. She relented.

“We all line up like this,” instructed Lisette, pulling them to the middle of the room. “I saw it once in Rock Springs. The steps are pretty easy but if we move at the same time, it looks bigger. Victoria, in the middle.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the drunkest,” snorted Siobhan. “Someone can’t hold her booze.”

“Show your elders some respect,” she huffed, stepping into place.

“Oooh, you’re bitchy when you drink! I like that!” The other girls snorted.

“Okay!” shouted Lisette. “Arms together! So here, we raise the same leg— wrong leg, Siobhan— with the right!”

They clumsily did the first kicks and half-kicks, fell all over each other, giggling hysterically. Eventually, they got the handle of it.

“Looking good! Victoria, kick higher!”

“My body doesn’t move like that anymore!”

“Imagine your husband’s face and kick it!” tried Consuelo.

Victoria burst out laughing. She did kick higher, and with more force than she thought she was capable.

“Great! Now, everyone at the same time! Un-deux , un-deux —”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door and had to untangle with some effort. Victoria took a moment to lean on the bar, tipsy and out of breath.

“We’re closed!” shouted Consuelo.

“I can come back?” It was Natane’s voice.

“It’s Natane!” grinned Victoria.

Consuelo opened the door a sliver. “Can you keep secret whatever you’re going to see in here?”

“…Yes?”

“Alright, you can come in.”

Before Victoria could shout no, Natane was inside. Looking at her. Seeing her in that outrageous dress, hair half-undone, skin exposed.

“I… Huh…” blurted Natane. “I… I need to check on something. Outside.”

She left and slammed the door behind her.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Siobhan.

Victoria started fretting. “She must find me ridiculous. What was I thinking?”

Lisette placed a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. Before she could say anything, the door opened once more and Natane was back inside. Her expression betrayed nothing.

“Sorry. My horse made a noise. Hi again, girls.” She took off her hat. “Victoria. You look lovely.”

“I do?” said Victoria, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You believe her, and not us,” pouted Lisette.

“You’re all beautiful,” added Natane. “Your next show is going to be a success.”

“We could just stand there and charge for admission,” Siobhan grumbled, “but Lisette has us kicking and jumping and showing off our knickers.”

“It’s cancan! It’s French !”

While the girls bickered, Victoria took Natane aside. “Hello,” she said, still a bit breathless. “What are you doing here? It’s getting late, you usually come to the General Store earlier in the day.”

“I didn’t come to the store; I came to see you.”

“Oh? Oh! That’s so sweet!”

“I know I’ve been busy with the farm. But I finally have some time now, figured I could visit.” She brushed the fabric of a puffy sleeve with the tip of her fingers. “I guess I got lucky.”

Victoria needed to drink, or die, or sit down. She did not have the time to choose, because the girls were back on the attack.

“Come on, let’s show Mrs.Díaz what we’ve been practising!”

Before Victoria could object, they had pulled a chair for Natane.

“Let’s try it on the stage, now,” said Lisette.

They pulled Victoria between them. It was a tight fit.

“We’re going to fall off this thing,” grumbled Siobhan.

“It’s not that high. Come on, Victoria, put your arm here.”

“I could step down and play the piano…” she tried again, before being shushed.

“At the count of three!”

Victoria closed her eyes and focused on the steps, trying very hard not to think about the fact that she was flashing her underwear to Natane.

They did a couple of rounds until Siobhan almost fell off and refused to keep going.

Natane applauded politely. “That was something,” she said, a bit flushed. “Very… French.”

“Thank you!” beamed Lisette. “There are still some moves to practise. We can grab the skirts like this…”

While she taught the others how to lift and shake their skirts, Victoria walked to the piano and put a perforated sheet in the automatic player. She had ordered some new ones and was not done listening to them. A jaunty little tune filled the bar, to the girl’s delight.

Natane walked up to her. “You’re frowning.” She was very close, thought Victoria.

“This self-playing piano is impressive, but it has no soul.”

“I do prefer when you play,” muttered Natane.

Their eyes met. Victoria had the passing thought that they often did it, staring for longer than what was normal. She did not mind. Natane was simply so pretty.

“Victoria! You need to learn the new steps!”

She was regaining some of her usual reluctance, so they put another shot in her hands.

“To the French!”

Natane looked at her over the rim of her glass.

Now that they had music, it was easy to get lost in the dance. Lisette taught them several more steps, each more intricate than the last. Eventually, they grew bored with the choreography and simply twirled and kicked to their heart’s content.

“When you think about it, the cowboys aren’t going to care if we’re on beat or not,” said Consuelo. “They’ll only care about this,” she lifted and shook her skirts.

“But there’s no art in that,” sighed Lisette.

“There’s money, though,” pointed Siobhan. “Imagine the tips. Hey cowboy, put a dollar in my cleavage.”

Slowly, all their eyes went to Victoria.

“…What?”

“A Grand Canyon full of money!” shouted Siobhan.

“Just try it,” laughed Consuelo. “Say, ‘Hey Cowboy.’”

“I’m not going to—” started Victoria.

“—I’ve got a dollar.”

They all turned to Natane, who was holding a dollar bill in the air, beet red. With her other hand, she took a sip of whisky.

“See? You can practise on Mrs.Díaz!” said Consuelo, pushing her towards Natane’s chair. “Come on, show us what you can do.”

“Yeah, we need you to keep racking up the tips while we’re busy upstairs,” added Siobhan.

“Move your hips a little,” suggested Lisette.

“I, huh… Stop staring! I’ll do it!”

It was insane, but she was drunk past the point of reason. The music was easy to dance to, so she swayed her hips awkwardly. Then, annoyed at herself, she put in more effort, started dancing on the beat and waved her skirts like Lisette had taught them. She glanced at Natane.

That look. There was something terrified in that look. As if Natane was a small animal, sitting in the middle of a field. A prey.

Something predatory awoke in Victoria.

She moved her hips and shoulders more, trying to imitate the girls when they worked the floor. She stepped forward, made a slow half-kick, showing off her thigh. Then another, advancing on Natane to the beat. With the last step, she placed her foot on the chair, right next to Natane’s thigh, and slowly leaned down, her cleavage in full display.

“Hey cowboy,” she whispered. “Are you going to put that somewhere?”

Shaking, Natane placed the bill in the generous crack of her breasts. She retreated her hand very fast, without touching the skin, and sat there, petrified. Victoria grabbed the black Stetson hat from her head and put it on. She winked.

Slowly, she stood back up and pushed the bill to make it completely vanish in her cleavage. She strutted back while the girls hooted and cheered. Victoria felt giddy and burst out laughing.

“This is ridiculous,” she snorted.

Consuelo tapped her on the back. “You’re great at this. Thank you for playing along, Mrs.Díaz!”

Natane blinked. “Hm? Oh yes. Um. Yes. I’m glad to help. Victoria, you were very… convincing.”

“Thank you!” she beamed. “Oh, have your dollar back.”

“No, keep it, you definitely earned it.” Natane stood up. “I have to go back home, it’s getting late.”

“But we hardly spoke,” said Victoria, running up to her and handing the hat back. “And it’s late. Say, let me get out of this dress and I’ll ride back with you. I don’t want you to drive alone at night.”

“Are you sure? You’ll have to stay over.”

“I don’t mind, if it’s not an inconvenience to you.”

“Never.”

They smiled.

“Alright,” breathed Victoria. “Give me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

She returned to her room, her heart beating fast. There was something strange happening inside of her, but she blamed the whisky. She unlaced the corset and removed the gloves, the shoes, the satin underwear and the dress, placing it all on the bed with care. Once back in her everyday clothes, she grabbed her bag, nightgown and comb, and checked her hair in the mirror one last time.

Natane was waiting on the porch, and smiled softly when she saw her.

“You’re also lovely dressed like this,” she whispered.

“Huh, thank you,” she breathed back.

“Before you go!” came Consuelo’s voice from inside. She opened the door ajar and handed Victoria a basket. “There’s some cookies left and a couple of mince pies. And here, take this too.” She added a whisky bottle. “You were having fun. It’s nice to see you unwind like that.”

She shooed them away and closed the door.

Back on the chariot, Victoria gestured to the bottle. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all,” Natane smiled. “Last time I got drunk was with Sebastian. We used to sit on the porch and tell silly stories. I’d be glad to do it with you.”

“It’s a party, then!”

It was dark when they reached the farm. Victoria was down to a smooth, pleasant buzz, feeling warm and lethargic. Natane put the horses back in the barn and joined her on the porch, two glasses in her hand. The dogs slept at their feet.

“What are we toasting to?”

“How about your dress?” asked Natane with a tiny smirk.

“We already did that!”

“I think it deserves another one. To Victoria, who looks gorgeous in her new dress, and to all the hearts she’s going to break.”

“Don’t be morose. Let’s toast to all the profit we’ll make instead,” she snickered.

They drank slowly, taking in the silence of the night. “This is nice,” sighed Victoria. “I love the girls’ energy, but it’s always rowdy in there. I needed a break. Thank you for inviting me.”

“It’s a pleasure. We haven’t talked much since our last trip. I’m sorry, I should visit you more often.”

“You’re busy with the farm.”

Natane cracked her back. “Yes, but I could have tried harder. It’s just that… well. I let the farm fall into disrepair when Sebastian died. Now that I’m feeling better, I’ve been trying to get things back into shape. But I’m up in my years, and there’s only me, now.”

“Why don’t you hire a farmhand? You look exhausted.”

“I’ve been working with James, but he’s been busy at the Horowitz’s lately. I haven’t planted as much this year, just caring for the animals takes all my energy. I need to accept that I’m old.”

“You’re not old, because if you’re old, then I’m old, and I refuse to accept this.” Victoria refilled their glasses. “Tonight proved that I can still kick like these young girls over there.”

“Tonight proved a lot of things,” muttered Natane into her glass. “So, how have you been? We haven’t really talked about what happened on the road.”

“What is there to say?” she mumbled. “I broke down at the first loud noise. I was completely useless.”

“We were in danger, Victoria.”

“I had the gun in my hand! And even then, it made no difference, because I don’t know how to shoot!”

“Would learning make you feel better?”

Victoria pouted. “Maybe.”

“I can teach you tomorrow, if you want.”

“Might as well. But please don’t believe this ruined the trip for me! I had a delightful time. I never met anyone like your mother’s people, it made me realize there is so much I have yet to discover in this world. I have so many questions!”

“Ask away.”

“Well, to begin with, why is everyone in that tribe so ridiculously pretty?” she chuckled. “Your people have been blessed with great skin and great hair. Look at you, with most of your gorgeous hair still black, how unfair.”

Natane touched her hair self-consciously. “I thought you would ask more serious things, about, well. I’m sure you guessed what happened.”

Victoria bit her lip. “I gathered pieces here and there,” she admitted. “Of course, I want to know more, but I did not want to overstep.”

“You wouldn’t. Go on.”

“…How did you escape the orphanage?” she asked softly.

Natane made a face. “I didn’t escape. None of us ever could, we were all too young and the walls were high. It’s pure luck, honestly. Most of the nuns had left for the day and only one stayed behind. We were all eating in the mess hall when she choked on food. No one tried to help.” She took a sip. “The older girls then broke into the office and found all the documentation. What our real names were, where we had been taken from. They couldn’t do more than that, they had to take care of the little ones. So they sent me on my way.”

Another sip. “I remember walking until my feet bled. Even when I reached a small town, I avoided people. Anyone could have been Catholic. And then, I saw a group of Jewish men. They were wearing,” she tapped the top of her head to illustrate a kippah, “that little hat they wear. The nuns had said to never trust them, so I figured I could.”

She smiled; a bit sad. “They were great, actually. They fed me and found me clothes to replace my uniform. They put me on a train headed here and even paid for my fare. I’ve always wished I could have told them that it worked. That I found my way back.”

“I’m glad you got out.”

“Yeah, I’m glad too. I figure there’s a lot of us who never made it out. Fuck,” and Victoria blinked at the swear, “fill my glass. I haven’t talked about it in years.”

Victoria obeyed and let her take a moment. “We can speak of anything else, if you wish.”

“No, it’s alright. Keep asking. I don’t mind telling you stuff. I want you to know,” she waved, “all of that. It’s not pretty, but it’s my story.”

“I’m honoured.”

She chuckled. “You and your fancy words. Go ahead, ask something else.”

Victoria thought for a moment. “Why do your brother and cousins have Christian names?”

“Most of us have an Indian name and a white man name. Our elders got renamed in the census often enough that it became easier to give the children both kinds at birth. The younger generation deals with outsiders more often, so they constantly switch back and forth. As for me…” she chuckled self-deprecatingly, “when I arrived, I couldn’t speak Shoshone without butchering the pronunciation, so it was easier for everyone if I used the white man names.”

“Do you have more names?”

“Mary-Margaret,” she grimaced and refilled both glasses. “Can you believe it? I answered to that all my childhood. I’m glad to be rid of it.”

“You don’t look like a Mary-Margaret.”

“And I never felt like one. Natane is better, though it did take me a while to get used to it. That’s what people call me in the tribe, but you’re the only one in Swainsburg to do it. Here they’ve been saying Mrs.Díaz for thirty years and it still feels strange. Sebastian called me Nati. Or mi vieja .” She glanced at Victoria from the corner of her eye. “It means “my old woman.” He’s been using that since we were twenty.” She raised her glass to the sky. “Here’s to you, weirdo.”

“I would have liked to meet him.”

“He would have adored you.” She sighed. “I miss him. It gets easier, but every now and then I turn around and I’m surprised he’s not there. It’s like a punch to the gut.”

Victoria hesitated. “You must have loved him very much.”

Natane stayed silent, a very long time.

“Victoria? Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

Natane held her glass with both hands. “You can’t tell anyone else. I shouldn’t even be telling you at all, but I need to talk to someone. Please promise you’ll keep it to yourself.”

“I will not betray your trust.” Victoria’s hands were shaking, there was a growing noise at the back of her head.

Natane nodded and averted her eyes. She drank a sip, for courage.

“Sebastian was… Sebastian was an invert.”

Victoria blinked. “A sodomite?”

Natane grimaced. “He hated that word. He never used it. Well, he really didn’t use any other either.”

“But you were married!”

“I’m going to be honest, it was a relief,” she muttered. “Years, we tried conceiving a child. When he told me he preferred men, instead, my first thought was, Thank God, we can stop trying. ”

“…,Oh my dear, that’s heartbreaking. What happened, then?”

Natane shrugged. “Nothing, really. He was still my husband; I was still his wife. We stopped trying, and with time, it all became easier. To live together, work on the farm together. He was a good companion. My best friend.”

Victoria twisted her hands. “This is very strange to me,” she admitted. “It’s not something that was talked about. At least, in kind terms.”

“I grew up with nuns, I’ve seen how unkind people can be.” Natane refilled her glass, and drank. “Sebastian was a good man. I don’t know if he was faithful and I don’t care. He provided for me, he stayed with me until his death. He was generous, and funny, and I trusted him with my life. He trusted me with this.”

“And now you’re trusting me,” whispered Victoria.

She put an arm around Natane’s shoulders and held her close. She was warm, against the cool air of the night.

“You’ve been all alone in this house, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to talk to,” she breathed into her black hair.

“I talk to Feo and Guapo.”

“The dogs don’t count, Natane.”

“Well, you’ve been lonely too. Don’t make that face.”

“You can’t see my face.”

“I don’t have to. You always look away when someone speaks about you. You try to make yourself smaller. You don’t need to, you know. You’re safe.”

Victoria hummed.

“I keep remembering the outer walls of that house,” Natane said. “And that heavy lock on the door. I see the big table in the dining room and I picture you eating alone, every day.”

She turned and murmured against Victoria’s shoulder. “I remember the bed and I imagine you trying to sleep. Scared that he would wake up.”

Victoria sobbed.

“Tonight, I saw you dance and laugh. And I thought, inside of me, maybe this is it. Maybe this is the day she stops looking around in fear.”

Victoria burst into tears and hugged Natane closer. They stayed like that for a long time, both crying.