Chapter 1: Intro to Meeting Charles

  My name is Magnolia. The summer of 1924 was when I met Charles. It was a hot July afternoon as I walked down Decatur Street. People where bustling around the city and all was busy with no room left for quiet. I had no intention of meeting a man or getting my Sunday dress dirtied up.
  The store bell on the door rang as I stepped into Mr. Marlin's shop. He kindly kissed my hand and told me good morning. "Good morning, Mr. Marlin. Do you happen to have any sugar? Our maid fell ill so mama intends for me to bake us all cherry pie and vanilla cake for desert tonight." I said. "Oh yes, Miss Magnolia. Here you are." He smiled as he handed me a small brown paper bag that was a bit heavy.
  Mr. Marlin happily took my dime for the sugar. I was just walking out of his shop when he stopped me. "My son, Charles, is in town. We are attending the LaRue's ball since Sarah, my wife, is serving there as a waitress to the guests. Wouldn't you like to join us? Charles has been asking to meet you." I knew Charles has a reputation for taking women out and never calling or meeting them again. I simply refused to let myself be one of those women, but he was absolutely dashing!  I still think the idea of never calling again is absurd. I told Mr. Marlin that I would have an answer by tomorrow, and then I left.
  As I walked back home, I saw the mayor drive by in his new Ford. He kindly waved and I acknowledged him by bowing my head. I kept walking as I did so, pondering why people won't accept you if you don't have a certain amount of money to your name. In New Orleans, people were either judging you, or they were drunk all the time. It was such an unresting thing, it was.
  As a child and growing up, society was never an issue with me. My family had grandfather's old plantation house that we inherited when he passed away. Mama always curses only having a maid and not a whole crowd of slaves to cook, clean, and work for us forever. I'd like to tell her that sometimes we just have to do things on our own but knowing mama, her response would be, "Magnolia, Darlin', we have too much money to be working for ourselves. You'll learn that one day when you have a husband and a family of your own to tend to. We don't need poor person's nonsense around here."
  I walked up our big, wooden steps to the wrap-around porch with the swing gently rocking back and forth in the wind. The moss in the trees swayed and the marshy land on the side of the house teemed with reptilian and insect life. I opened the door and went inside to mama and papa.


                                    This is the end of chapter 1.