Flashback [flashback] Always A Bridesmaid... (Lenell)

[Lena Applin]

Flashback: Spring 45, 512 AV

This was a treat. It was a frustrating, worrisome, high adrenaline event, but it was still a treat all the same. Lena stuck her tongue out just a little in a fit of concentration. With the greatest of care, she laid the last crystallized pansy in the exact spot where it needed to go, and still holding her breath, she stepped back from the tiered cake. Its white frosting shimmered with the specially baked icing, swirls and curlicues and rondelles, all to make it look lovely and romantic and unique. She had been helping Cook all day to prepare the confectionary denoument to the wedding reception meal, and here it stood in all its glory. In just a few minutes it would make its way to the front room of the modest home, where a bevy of well wishers were gathered to celebrate the nuptials of some cousin of the actual residents of the home. From what Lena knew, Cook was friends with the girl at the bakery that generally served these owners. And upon mention that the family was looking for a freelance chef to come in and prepare a grand wedding day meal for the occasion, the girl had referred Cook to them. Cook, who was really Second Cook at the house where Lena was employed, had been given permission to take on the contract, for the family that Lena served was reduced of late, what with the children grown and married and off in their own homes. The middle aged woman had asked too that one of the kitchen girls be allowed to accompany her and, given permission, she had chosen Lena, for in truth, of all the kitchen maids, Lena was the best hand with pastries and pies and cakes and such. And it was for this purpose that the cook had brought her along, so that as she whipped up the courses to be served at table, Lena could concentrate on the massive cake. It had been nerve wracking, but as she stepped back and gazed on the wondrous results of their efforts, Lena nodded in satisfaction, clasping her hands together and looking quite satisfied with herself.

The cook and the other girl who was there to primarily clean up as they moved through the various dishes – mountains of pots and pans and dishes and utensils – both ooohed and ahhhed in appreciation. Lena smiled and stepped aside as two hired servants came in and carefully, ever so carefully, picked up the tray upon which the tall cake sat and gently transported it to the front room. Lena followed at a discrete distance and dared to peek around a corner. There was a chorus of delighted exclamations and some polite applause and Lena grinned like a Cheshire cat. Turning, she retreated to the kitchen and reported the success to the cook. They hugged and spoke animatedly about the fee they would split for the day’s work – the cook getting the lion’s share of it, of course. Then it was time to help the other poor girl tackle the plates and glasses and cutlery that had been brought back by the servers. After a half hour or so, Lena felt like she’d been thrown right into one of the baking ovens. The steam from the hot water was making her hair curl like mad and the sweat was beaded on her brow, which was much redder now than her hair. The cook looked over to her and said. “Take a breather, girl. Step round to the back room and fetch me some more scouring powder.”

Lena didn’t have to be told twice. She was more than happy to take a break from the hot water. Wiping her hands on her very messy apron, she scooted through the kitchen door into a back room that was used for storage and as a pantry. It was well lit, as they had been scurrying in and out of it all day, and so immediately as she entered, Lena saw her – the other girl. She was a bit older, and her hair was redder than Lena’s, but her dress was far nicer and for the life of her, Lena couldn’t figure out what the other girl was doing here, in this far back room.

“Excuse me, miss. Pardon. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Lena looked over to where the scrubbing powder was, and then back at the other girl, and said curiously, “Is – is there something I can help you find, miss?”

[Lenell Belleste]

Lenell smiled as her mother toasted cousin Teysha and her new husband, Norder Radmein. She tried hard to copy her mother's demeanor--graceful, gracious, completely happy for the new couple--as she lifted her own glass. If her mother could be such a wonderful hostess, then Lenell should at least be able to remain quietly cheerful. Teysha did look very lovely in her bright, new finery, and she and Norder actually cared for each other deeply, and of course everything had worked out for the best, but....

Well, Teysha was a year younger than Lenell. And the Radmein family were not merely just fine artisans, but the only other family of potters in Syliras that approached the level of success the Belleste family enjoyed. An alliance between the two groups was a natural thing. And as the oldest female among her cousins, Lenell would normally have been the one expected to marry Norder, the only Radmein son of his generation.

But of course that was not to be. Lenell was never courted by any of the young men in her peer group, because no artisan family that had struggled its way into the middle class of Syliras could possibly afford to risk the fall in their fortunes that would result from a large group of lame offspring. No one knew why Lenell had been born with a club foot, but no one could guarantee she wouldn't pass it on to her children.

It was fine, though. Really, it was. Teysha and Norder actually loved one another, and Len had never felt much beyond a surface friendship with the young man. It couldn't have worked out better. The Radmein and Belleste potteries wished to bring themselves closer, and it was the best of luck that two of their children had obliged them to the point of not just agreeing to marry for everyone's benefit, but had actually been so strongly drawn to one another that forbidding them to marry would have been difficult.

Still, Lenell knew her place, or what her place would have been if she had been able to serve her family in all the ways she should. Her pottery skills were fine, she would possibly one day be as good as her mother if she kept working at it, and there was no match in Syliras for the quality of her mother's decorative vases. But she could never bring them the advantages available from a good marriage. If she married "beneath her," her family's business and connections would suffer. And only the loveliest and most well formed young men and women of her class could expect a rich suitor. She was stuck, basically, and could only look forward to being the poor maiden aunt taking up space in the home of one of her siblings if she stayed here.

Len kept smiling, though her face was starting to hurt. Now that her mother, as hostess, had made her toast to the couple, tradition allowed others to take a turn if they wished. Lenell made sure she laughed when she should as various uncles and aunts raised their sparkling glasses and gave their blessings. Busy, efficient servers moved away empty platters and brought in full ones, dodging the guests with skill. The whole room burst into merriment as Len's youngest cousin, barely tall enough to reach the table, stood up on his chair to inform the newlyweds that he wanted another little boy to play with "right now."

Len saw her chance as the room was cheering the young fellow on. She turned to her mother. "May I be excused? I need a moment to refresh myself."

Her mother smiled with love, though her eyes showed that she understood Lenell's real need to walk away. "Of course, Len," she answered, patting her hand gently. "Try not to miss the cake. I'm told it's quite a wonder."

Lenell nodded and rose as quietly as possible. Her young cousin still had the table in stiches, just by looking around in confusion at all the laughter his demand had caused. She walked slowly and softly towards a washroom, then made a quick detour into the nearby pantry.

She sank down to a seat on the large storage casks in the back and sighed. This was silly, she was silly, there was no way she would've ever wanted to prevent her cousin's happiness. Besides, her parents talked often of letting Len go to Zeltiva to study. There she could make a life for herself, as a teacher or perhaps even a professor. Then even if she was still alone, at least she would have her independence. But she couldn't help feeling she was failing her family in a very important way. Everyone would strongly deny it if she mentioned it, there wasn't a member of her family who wouldn't scold her if she said such a thing, but she knew it was true. And, past that, she was lonely. She wondered all the time what it was like to be admired, to be courted, to be....kissed, even.

She was breathing deep, pushing down an urge to tear up, when the door was opened by a young cook, looking fresh and lovely in her uniform. Lenell smiled at the situation, at the cook's kind question. Sometimes, there was just no escaping looking foolish. I mean, what would she feasibly be doing hiding in a pantry in her new dress as her family feasted and laughed nearby?

"What can you help me find?" she replied, shaking her head with a rueful smile. "A little more common sense, I suspect. I'm sorry, I truly hope I'm not in the way here, but...I just needed to be apart from everyone for a bit." Lenell leaned on her cane and stood up. "How about this? I know this pantry very well. Can I help you find something? After all, I'm not doing anything more important than sulking right now. Oh, my name's Lenell, Lenell Belleste, but please call me Len if you like. Many people do. What's your name, if I may ask?"