The Dress

Tessa sent up a hasty prayer for forgiveness as she slipped on the dress her mother had bought her in exchange for a promise not to marry Al. But it was the best dress she had, and Al had the motor running.

It started two years ago, roughly speaking. Tessa’s father had just died and the family didn’t know what to do with the farm. Her mother, having grown up among the tall buildings of a big city, knew nothing of crops, animals or anything else that her father had done to keep the family in financial stability. Tessa had no brothers or sisters, and she herself was barely old enough to take the chicken and eggs into town by herself.

Al, with his sister and mother, arrived at the farm two days after Tessa’s mother had put the ad in the paper. His father had lost their home at a gambling table, and nobody had seen him since. “Lucky for him, too!” Al’s mother said. But, regardless of whether she would ever get the chance to carry out the various retributions upon the father, there was still the need to care for her children. So Al’s mother had taken the job offered by Tessa’s mother, and moved into the guest house was next to the barn, bringing her son and daughter with her. Tessa could see the house from her bedroom window. And Al could see Tessa from his.

The farm already had a woman who’d been hired to cook and keep the house, but she welcomed the help and the chatter that she never got from Tessa’s mother. Al’s sister, Clara, and Tessa were given the share of chores that involved feeding and cleaning up after animals, collecting eggs, and sometimes grabbing a chicken for dinner. Al was sent into the fields to take care of the planting, harvesting and everything else.

Tessa and Clara took turns bringing lunch to him in the field. It didn’t take long for the sister to let Tessa go every day since she enjoyed the conversation so much more than a sister does with her brother. To stretch the time, Tessa started bringing a book to read or a sketchpad to draw rough pictures of the landscape, and gradually the lunches became longer and longer.

Tessa’s mother repositioned the writing desk in her second floor bedroom so she could watch Tessa and Al during their repast. As the mealtimes lengthened, so did her nerves tighten. Al was a worker, and she had plans for Tessa that did not involve him.

A year went by, and the farmwork was starting to show in Al’s arms and chest. Sometimes he would go into town with his sister and Tessa to help them sell eggs and carry back supplies, and when he did he could feel the eyes of young girls peeking out the windows of their homes and family’s shops. His mother enjoyed the extra bit of sugar and flour that made its way into the sack when he went to the store where the pretty blue-eyed girl tended the counter. The cook liked the little bit of extra money the cute brunette paid for the eggs when Al brought them by. Fathers paid a good price for the harvest, too, in the hopes that Al would notice their daughters. Tessa and Clara liked not having to carry anything to and from town because when Al went they got to ride in the wagon. Tessa’s mother was the only one who wasn’t happy with what she saw going on.

With the extra money he earned, Al was able to convince Tessa’s mother to let him buy an old jalopy he’d seen at the market. It didn’t look pretty, but he was sure he could get it running and keep it that way. It would mean less time traveling to and from town, and if he got a wagon to hitch up to it he could bring more to sell in town. His mother was an excellent seamstress. Her quilts always brought in a pretty penny. Just think how much more money they could make if they had an automobile! Even though something nagged at the back of her brain, Tessa’s mother agreed.

Al wasn’t the only one that a year’s growth had been favorable upon. Tessa had transformed from a girl to a young woman with hair that fell to her waist in thick, auburn curls, and her dresses had to be tailored to accommodate her long arms and legs. Her slender fingers grew skilled in tatting, and her keepsake box was growing full with the extra money she made at the market selling her lace collars, cuffs and doilies. She always gave some of the money she earned to her mother, but she kept more than she shared.

Another season of crops was harvested, and it looked like Tessa’s mother would be able to keep her farm and the household in comfort until the next rotation. Al made one more trip into town to make sure the seeds for next season would arrive in time.

“Are you going to the festival Saturday after next?” the blue-eyed girl asked Al, trying not to twirl too much on her tiptoes.

He hadn’t thought about it, but the notion of going sounded like a fine idea.

“I might,” he answered, giving her one of his crooked smiles and tapping the corner of his cap before leaving the shop.

“Mother, can I?” Tessa tried not to squeal when Al brought up the subject of the festival at supper and suggested that maybe Tessa could go with him.

“Will you take your sister as well?” Tessa’s mother asked Al, trying to keep her one eyebrow from rising too high above the other.

So it was that on a Saturday night the girls were dressed in the best that Al’s mother could sew, Al cranked the motor to start, and they headed into town. The cook and Al’s mother waved them goodbye. Later, the cook went to bed but the mother couldn’t sleep. She’d told them to be back before night, but it was almost two o’clock when she heard the engine rattle up to the barn.

The next morning, Clara was giddy. That young man from the feed store had asked her to dance. And then he’d asked her again. And again. When the music finally stopped, he’d asked her if she’d like to join him for a picnic the following Saturday. Her mother agreed, as long as Al went along. Al said he wouldn’t mind, but it would certainly be less awkward if Tessa could come along as well.

It wasn’t long before the picnics were a weekly event. Al’s mother watched with eyes that remembered her own youth. Tessa’s mother watched and knew it was time to do something.

A week later, they were standing on the platform at the train station.

“It’s been so long since we spent a day together, you and I.” Tessa’s mother tucked the train tickets into her purse while Al loaded their bags into the back seat. She pretended not to see Tessa look at Al. A look that, without any words, said she’d miss him and couldn’t wait to get home. “We’ll be back in two days,” she said to her daughter with a sideways look towards the young man whose sole concern was supposed to be what was planted and harvested in the fields.

Rocking in rhythm with heavy steel wheels on the track, Tessa looked out the window. Their car was the last of six, and she could see the steam engine every time they went around a curve. She watched the farm fields turn to small towns and then to the city. She barely heard her mother prattle on about everything they would see – everything she herself had grown up with and missed so very much since marrying Tessa’s father and moving to the farm. A coach awaited them when they arrived, and the driver ushered them into the lobby of a fancy hotel where they freshened up, changed out of their traveling clothes, and had the concierge arrange for a coach and driver to take them to the best shops and restaurants.

It was after lunch, and the third dress shop they had visited. Tessa had never seen material like it before. Blue that shimmered, ribbon around the waist that tied in the back, and collars and cuffs covered in lace that was so much lovelier than anything she had ever made. Her mother agreed to buy it. On one condition….

“You can have it,” she said, “if you promise me that you will not marry Al.”

“Oh, mother…” Tessa giggled, lifting the hem of the dress and watching her feet dance in the mirror. She imagined the shoes that would match.

“Promise me.”

Tessa stopped. Was she joking? She knew that look. No, she wasn’t.

“Al hasn’t asked me to marry him, mother,” her fingers let the hem drop to the floor, but she still gazed in the mirror.

“If he does. You’ll say no,” her mother persisted, then she sighed. She remembered being her daughter’s age. She remembered being in love with a handsome young man, a man whose chest and arms were chiseled by the fields, whose smile could bring life to a frostbitten heart. “Tessa, there is so much more out in the world for you. Please. Just this one thing.”

Tessa thought for a moment, agreed to her mother’s terms, and didn’t think much about it again.

But now, Tessa was thinking about it. She stood before the mirror in her room. The emerald shade covering her desk lamp bathed the room with a soft, green light giving the shimmering blue dress an iridescent glow.

Another season had come and gone. The crops had been harvested. Tonight was the festival dance, but she and Al had other plans. The young man from the feed store, the one from last year and all the picnics in-between, had asked Clara if he could escort her to the dance. She’d agreed, and Al and Tessa had told her they’d meet them there. But, as it turned out, they wouldn’t.

Tessa sent up a hasty prayer for forgiveness as she slipped on the dress her mother had bought her in exchange for a promise not to marry Al.

Tessa’s heart heaved a quiet sob at the lie as she kissed her mother goodnight and promised to be back by midnight. She looked away, not wanting to see that her mother knew the truth.

Her mother knew Al was dressed in his best suit.

And she knew that the engine was running.

She kissed her daughter goodnight and truly, honestly, wished her well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorcha Monk lives in a small town in a desert near a river. She belongs to four dogs who love her, and four cats who occasionally acknowledge her existence but always allow her to feed them. Sorcha used to be a middle school teacher, but now that she has her life back she writes stories, rides a large motorcycle, dabbles in ceramics and reads a lot.