Mary paused when her mother looked her way and she saw the familiar icy stare aimed at her. Sarah James tossed her head, her red curls cascading over her shoulder as she walked, head high and body elegantly poised as ever, there was not a care on her mother’s face--save for her attention to Mister Rutherford. Her mother always did have an uncanny ability to focus on those she deemed useful and Mary saw now that it was aimed at her new husband.
“Should I stay by your side?” Alex murmured and took a step closer to her. They were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder now, fingers almost brushing, arms grazing the other, and Mary did not miss how her wife drew herself up to her full height when she noticed the newly married couple crossing the avenue and making their way towards them.
“I-well, I don’t rightly know,” Mary confessed when she realized she was unable to determine how her mother might act in the moment. “I’ve never been one to know what my mother might do.”
“I’ll stay put then.”
Mary dipped her chin in acknowledgement and felt strengthened by the barest brush of Alex’s fingers against the back of her knuckles. She cautioned a look up at her wife then and felt the same overwhelming sense of awe at her beauty. It was raw and pure, unfiltered and so genuine in its simple way of being. Alex didn’t try to conform or school her features into a palatable way, not as Mary had been taught. The womansimply was, and Mary could not be more grateful for it.
“I see we are not the only newlyweds in town.” Mister Rutherford greeted them with a tip of his hat and smiled warmly at Mary. “It’s a shame I missed such a fine event, Mary. I hear it was a truly memorable night.”
“It was...dramatic, or so I have read in the morning paper.” Her mother sniffed and looked at her daughter as if she scarcely knew her, and Mary knew the prior evening’s words had not been hastily exchanged. This wasn’t her mother. It wasn’t even Sarah James. It was Missus Rutherford and there wasn't a soul on the avenue that didn’t know it.
“Yes, it was a joyous time enjoyed by all.” Alex reached for her then, lacing their fingers together. “I am pleased to see that you have been able to take part in your own bit of happiness as well,” she said, giving the couple a smile that could have fooled Mary as genuine, except that in their small time together she had noticed quite a lot about her wife and it all told her the smile she aimed at the newly christened Mister and Missus Rutherford was anything but amicable.
It was guarded and pointed. There would be no lingering. Not if the couple was smart.
Mary watched as Mister Rutherford took note. His eyes drifting from Alex to his new wife and then finally to Mary. He watched her for a moment, and she managed a quick “Hello,” with a nod of her head to her mother. She was not keen on sparring with the newly minted Sarah Rutherford.
“Ah, well, we were just here to see to a few things,” Mister Rutherford told them, pointing towards the mercantile. “I expect you are as well.”
“We are. Minnie is in need of a few items and there’s no time like the present.”
Mary was glad she was facing away from her mother, her hand in Alex’s who was leading her up the stairs, and away from the couple at their back. If she had been facing forward she might have caught sight of her mother’s face when the strangled sound at their back came out of her mouth, she might have also seen the curious shade of red her mother’s face became as she spluttered as well.
As it was, she missed both occurrences. Though the sounds her mother was making were anything but ladylike. A smile touched her lips at the near snorting and strangled scoff coming from her mother.
“Are you well, my dear?” Mister Rutherford asked, and Mary had to fight back the laugh bubbling in her chest. The man would be caught unawares by his new wife’s behavior, but that, like everything associated with Mary’s mother, was none of her daughter’s concern any longer.
Mary turned towards Alex and smiled at the sight of her strong wife. The blonde was still holding her hand, the sure and steady feel of her palm against Mary’s made her feel as if all would be well. Alex was ahead of her, leading her towards the tidy aisles of the mercantile. There were rows of sundries and dry goods, along with a good section of material, fine shoes and stockings, and even delicacies such as scented French soap and expensive perfumes Mary recalled from her days of primping.
She paused in front of a small display of glass bottles. She reached out tentatively when one of the bottles caught her eye but stopped short of touching it. She did not recognize the label, nor the name,Rococo, but the unmistakable name of Guerlain assured her of its quality. The bottle was small and lovely with its gold and blue label, the glass stopper at the top beckoned to her, begging for her to pull it free and indulge her senses. It had been quite some time since Mary had smelled of anything other than the soap she used to wash, and even then, the light floral of the bars was long gone by the afternoon hours.
Mary bit her lip, eyes fastened on the bottle and her fingers twitched as she nearly reached for it. To purchase the bottle would be nothing but a luxury, a bit of frivolity and wholly unneeded. If she wanted to prove her worth and mettle to her new wife, it was an item she should surely pass up. She bit back a sigh and nodded to herself at the decision to walk away from the perfume. She did not need it, nor would she use her new fiscal trust from Alex on such an unnecessary item. She was here to outfit a home, not satisfy her baser need for indulgence, Mary moved to step away and stopped short when she realized Alex had moved closer. Their still clasped hands were pressed close to Alex’s side and she leaned in to see what had caught Mary’s attention.
“Do you, ah,” Alex cleared her throat and nodded at the perfume display, “are any of these to your liking?”
“Oh yes! These are of the finest quality and I used to wear many of them when I was home in Texas,” Mary blurted out and then winced at the quickness of her answer. “I mean to say that they are...interesting.”
“Interesting hmm?” Alex looked up at her briefly before her brown eyes were once more on the glass bottles.
“Yes, interesting. But not needed,” Mary replied firmly and tugged on her wife’s hand. “Should we continue with our shopping--”
“Which one would you like?”
Mary’s eyes widened at Alex’s question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, which one of these would you like to own.” Alex jerked her chin towards the bottles. “You looked as if you might touch this one here, the one with the blue and gold label?”
“Ah, yes, that one is new,” Mary admitted. “But I don’t need it,” she added quickly when Alex dropped her hand and reached for the bottle. Mary’s fingers twitched, her palm itching to be in contact once more with Alex’s. She would give up the entire perfume display a hundred times over if she were only able to have Alex’s hand in hers once more.
“Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it,” Alex told her. “If you want this then we should--”
“Already getting your little fill of baubles, hmm? Smart girl. I raised you right then.” The words were uttered in passing by Mary’s mother and Mary felt the blood drain from her face when Alex stopped speaking. The blonde turned, watching Sarah, ahem, Rutherford, sashay by. The other woman was making quite the show of browsing the aisles, but Mary knew her mother better. There was no way she wasn’t tracking her and Alex’s conversation, cataloguing their interactions, what they were doing.
Why she saw fit to do it, Mary couldn’t say but she hated it. She stepped closer to Alex and placed a hand on her arm. “Please, can we put it back and forget about it.”
Alex gave a quick shake of her head. “She’s trying to control you,” she said, looking at Mary with a stern frown on her face, full lips pressed into a thin line, “to control us by planting ugly seeds like that. I’m getting this for you, and that’s that.”
