"It's about time you came to visit me," Mrs. Winters said. "Lord knows I could never get you up her while you mother was alive. I don't know what her problem was."

The three sisters sat orderly on the sofa before their grandmother wearing the white blouses she had purchased for them. Beatrice had made it no secret to her sisters that she hated hers.

"Oh but we moved here to be closer to you, Grandmother," Ladybird said with a smile.

"Hmph," the old woman grumbled. "Well I hope you are carrying yourselves respectfully. I don't want word getting back to me of any bad behavior." He eyes flickered to Beatrice as she said this but only the youngest sister noticed.

"We are always at our best, Grandmother," Ladybird said.

Mrs. Winters smiled. "That is good to know. You know Philemon visits me twice a week. He's such a pleasant young man."

"Yes, Grandmother," Ladybird said.

"That is why I snagged him for my lovely granddaughter."

"Yes, Grandmother," Ladybird said.

"And..." Mrs. Winters said with a raising of her brow.

"And thank you very much," Ladybird said. "I could have never found such a match at my own doing."

Beatrice rolled her eyes. Visits were always this way with their grandmother. They sat neatly on the sofa, with their backs straight never letting them touch the back of the sofa and they answered questions like the rehearsed lines of a play. Her grandmother always found ways to bring praise to herself and promenaded around like an aristocrat.

"You're time will come soon, Wysteria," Mrs. Winters went on. "Mr. Joe Johns' younger brother is very kind." She smiled and sipped her tea.

Wysteria felt herself sinking into the sofa and a sickly feeling washed over her. Mr. Joe Johns was nice enough and she enjoyed his children but his brother gave her the shivers and always had that gleam in his eyes. Both were good friends of her grandmother and close to her father's age.

"Mrs. Meadows' sons are all nice," Ladybird said kindly.

"Mrs. Meadows raised them by herself and I don't like that," Mrs. Winters said. "Besides she and I do not get along very well. I've known the Johns for many years.

"Listen to yourself!" Beatrice blurted out and all eyes turned to her. "Wysteria doesn't want to marry some old man! Do you, Wysteria?"

Wysteria stayed silent.

"Someone like Wysteria needs an older husband. The nerve you!" Mrs. Winters raised her voice. "You will have Satan for a bridegroom you little blue-eyed devil!"

Beatrice went stiff. She looked at her sisters who sat silently like the ebony swans they were then she jumped up and stormed from the room.

"Let her go," Mrs. Winters said to the remaining girls. "You two will do wise to listen to me and heed my warning. Your mother was a disgrace to colored women everywhere. My son loved her to a fault and that's why he raised that sister of yours as his own. Don't make the same mistake Portia did."

/

Ladybird and Wysteria found Beatrice outside their grandmother's home sitting on the curb watching a man and his son make their way up the street with sweet potatoes.

"Are you all right, Baby B?" Ladybird asked.

Beatrice jumped to her feet and wiped her eyes. "I would feel better if my sisters had stood up for me," she said. "I'd expect silence from Wysteria but you, Ladybird?"

"Anything we would have said would have only crossed her more," Ladybird tried to explain. "Beatrice, you have to learn to hold your tongue. Even when it comes to Grandmother."

"I hate her," Beatrice said. "I didn't do anything to deserve the way she treats me. I didn't ask to be born and I wish I never was." She stomped off and he sisters slowly followed her.

No one said much when they got home where they immediately started preparing for tomorrow. Beatrice didn't come down for supper and Wysteria and Ladybird didn't have much to say as they ate.

"She has a right to be angry you know," Ladybird said as they cleaned the kitchen.

"I know," Wysteria said.

"And I should have stood up for her. It's just I feel ungrateful to go against Grandmother after all she has done for me."

"I understand," Wysteria said.

Ladybird laughed. "You sound like you're talking to Grandmother now. Say something with feeling."

Wysteria shrugged. "Beatrice is right," she said. "I don't want to marry that man. You know I've never been able to stand up for myself or others. Beatrice says I'm submissive to a fault." She put a dish in the rack. "I hate it when Grandmother talks about Mama like that."

"Me too," Ladybird said. She held a fork underwater and scrubbed it. "Well enough of all this, we have a fall recital to plan for."

Wysteria sighed. "Fall is my favorite time of year," she said. "I can't wait for it."

Ladybird smiled. She needed the recital now to take her mind away from her troubles. Oh, dancing. How it made her feel so good inside.

/

Wysteria pulled off her hat and gloves and hung them on the coat rack by the door in the polished foyer. She smiled when she heard the stampede of shoes on the spiraling staircase.

"Miss Wysteria!" The three children cried as they rushed her and hugged her.

"Is it nice enough that we can have lunch in the garden?" James the eldest boy asked.

"Did you bring Breakfast?" Sara the youngest and only girl asked.

"I didn't make my tutor mad yesterday," Peter the middle child piped in. "And I didn't chase Sara with my frog."

Wysteria laughed. "Yes we may eat in the garden, no I didn't bring Breakfast and that is good that you behaved," she said.

"I told you children not to run on the stairs." A voice sounded from above. "You could fall in break your—" The schoolmaster paused when he saw the young woman. "Miss Winters, thank goodness. Maybe you can convince these little hooligans to take the stairs like a lady and gentlemen."

"I will do my best," she said putting her hands on the heads of the boys while the girl stood in front of her.

"Good," Younger Mr. Candlewood said. "I do say, my family was destined to teach while yours..." He eyed the giggling children. "Was meant to bear the suffering of others."

"Good morning, Miss Winters," Mrs. Smart suddenly came up the hall with a smile on her olive face. Her dark hair was styled and a lovely pompadour something Wysteria stressed she had trouble achieving and her stomach bulged with her fourth child.

"Good morning Mrs. Smart," Wysteria greeted. "How are you today?"

"I am well, thank you," Mrs. Smart said. "I would like to join you for lunch today with the children will you call me when it is ready?"

"Yes, Mrs. Smart," Wysteria said. "Could I get you anything?"

"Your job is to look after the children, Wysteria," Mrs. Smart said. "I have maids to tend to my person. Oh by the way, have you two thought about England yet?"

"I would be glad to continue the children's education abroad," Younger Mr. Candlewood said then he looked at his fellow employee.

"I uh, uh, uh. I haven't decided ,ma'am," Wysteria said.

Mrs. Smart started up the stairs. "Time is of the essence, Wysteria. We will pay for your ticket and naturally you'll live with us. I anticipate your answer, Wysteria." She turned and went upstairs.

"I don't understand." Wysteria was drawn out of her thoughts by Younger Mr. Candlewoods' voice. "I'd do anything to get from under the shadow of my brother. What do you have keeping you here?"

"My sisters and familiarity I suppose," Wysteria answered as they walked into the garden behind the children.

"But England is a lot different than here," Younger Mr. Candlewood said, "You could be your own person."

Wysteria didn't understand what he meant and didn't try to. She didn't think she was sharing herself with another being. She watched the children scamper about in the garden then turned her attention to the rhododendrons next to her. She had nurtured much of the garden herself.

"Ah, I remember this," Younger Mr. Candlewood said and Wysteria found herself wishing he would go away and do something else. "You used to tend the ground here before you started with the children. So much has changed in those few years."

Wysteria knew she should say something but her tongue remained still and soon too many seconds had passed for it to matter. She instead turned her attention to a vine of morning glories that had spiraled around a mermaid birdbath.

"Are wisteria your favorite flower, Miss Winters?" Younger Mr. Candlewood said.

Wysteria wished he would really stop talking and looked over at the wisteria where the children jumped and swatted at its purple grape like flowers. If she had been Beatrice she would have answered with something smart like Do you like candles Younger Mr. Candlewood but she wasn't witty or naughty enough. "I like periwinkles," she said instead. "Periwinkle is my favorite color."

Younger Mr. Candlewood shrugged. "I can't tell it from lilac or violet or cyan."

Beatrice would have said you must be color blind but not Wysteria. "I spend a lot of time with flowers," she said. "And it is true; sometimes the colors look exactly the same."

"Miss Wysteria, come see my lizard!" Peter shouted.

Wysteria quickly excused herself and hurried over to her charge. She felt exhausted from that little conversation. She wasn't shy, she swore she wasn't shy.