Double Trouble: Eighteen; lessons in lineage.
 by Cariad
 
 

Double Trouble
~Eighteen~
Kay slammed her cup down on the table. “Why are you laughing and smiling at her?” Kay demanded of her brother Noah.

“Calm down, Tigger,” Noah replied, snaking an arm around her waist. “Apparently there are two of them.”

“First twins born in 1984,” Julia added.

Kay crossed her arms, “Figures,” she huffed, “you were laughing at me.”

“No,” Julia grinned, “We were laughing at us. And don’t be offended, it happens all the time. You should have been there when Hollis and I just got to Weymouth-Hampsted, and she found out the trustees had banned a book. You wouldn’t believe the mortification I endured when the older girls thought I was Holly. She catalogued the entire library, and I thought I’d never live it down!”

“Sounds like something Jess would do,” Kay said, and then remembering her manners, added, “I’m Kay Bennett.”

“So Noah said,” Julia replied. “I’m Julie Crane.”

Noah cleared his throat. “Julia Rose Winthrop Crane,” he said primly, imitating a society matron. “And the other one… Holly?” Noah asked in his regular voice. Julia nodded, so Noah continued, “Holly is the evil twin, out to steal Reese from you.”

“I’m not stupid, Noah,” Kay said. “How can we tell if she’s lying or not?”

“I asked her that question myself,” Noah replied. “Besides, she tells me that she’s got her eye on another guy—how did you phrase that?” he asked with a nudge at Julia.

Julia rolled her eyes and caught a familiar figure outside the window. “If you want to know, it’s him, going into the jewelry shop across the street.”

Both Kay and Noah looked. “Isn’t that Gwen Hotchkiss he’s with?” Kay asked.

“Of course,” Julia smiled smugly, “Because that’s Johnny Hotchkiss, Gwen’s Brother.”

“Isn’t Gwen’s mother Rebecca?” Kay asked, “And isn’t Rebecca marrying your father?”

Not if Holly and I can help it, Julia thought.

“Aha!” Noah pounced. “There goes your half-brother of your half-brother excuse, if you’ll be going after your stepbrother!”

Julia blushed. “Ok, so it was a lame excuse, but I was saving your masculine pride, honorary brother.”

“She wounds me again!” Noah said playfully to Kay.

“You’ll recover quickly,” Kay replied sardonically. She turned to Julia. “You know, he got involved with the theater department so he could meet girls.”

Julia nearly spit out her drink in laughter.

Noah had the decency to blush. “Let me explain,” he shouted. “It’s not what you think!”

His excuses came at the wrong time, for another dark-haired, pale faced girl with green eyes had walked over. “What?” she asked, “Noah joining the theater department?”

Noah held his head in shame. Having a wealth of little sisters was sometimes quite annoying. “Jess, Julie,” Noah said in introductions, “Juile, Jessica, my baby sister.”

Jessica sat down at the table, crowding it. “Don’t let him tell you otherwise, Julie,” Jess said. “He wanted to meet girls. That’s what he told Uncle Hank.”

“Look,” Noah said to Julia, taking her hands and trying to look serious, “I’m pre-law, and the way I figured it, we had to learn about public speaking, if we’ve got to get up in front of a judge and jury. And what a way to learn rhetoric than to have to speak it in a play! And it improves your diction.”

“And the girl to straight guy ratio,” Jessica concluded, “is very much in Noah’s favor!”

Noah sighed. “Yes, the ratio was in my favor,” he conceded and searched for something to change the subject to. “So I’ve got a question for you, Julie,” he said.

“Shoot,” Julie replied, “but I’ve never gone for any guy in the theater. You have to wonder about them.”

Kay and Jessica laughed as their brother’s fair complexion reddened once more.

“So your sister’s name is Holly, and your Mother’s name is Ivy, and your middle name is Rose. Is there some vegetative connection there?”

“My grandmother was named Rose,” Julia said, “And I’m named after my father. Holly. Well, mother always swore she would name her first daughter Holly. Damn Christmas Carol. So Holly was named after Mother in a way and Grandmother Crane—Katherine. And Daddy got to pick my first name—narcissistic bastard—and I was Rose after my Mother’s mother so SHE wouldn’t get jealous.”

“Holly, Ivy, Rose,” Noah said. “Is it some coincidence?”

“No,” Julia groaned. “It’s this weird thing that’s happened in my mother’s line and got way out of hand.”
 

* * * * * * *

“Pedigree,” Holly said as Theresa caught up with her in front of Harmony’s dress shop. “Pedigree is a must have. You have none. Your sole connections are through my father, so you better be very grateful for that.”
“This is part of the influence thing, isn’t it?” Theresa asked. “Not only who you know, but who you are related to?”

Holly breathed a sigh of relief. “You are picking some things up. Fortunately for you, people will not be expecting you to have your pedigree memorized.”

“You have to do that sort of thing?” Theresa asked.

Holly groaned inwardly. One step forward, two steps back! “Yes,” Holly said, “that’s the first thing you had to learn your freshman year at Weymouth-Hampsted. You had to first draw up your pedigree and then be able to recite it. You want to know why some people are interested in genealogy? Because some people get entrance into The Club that way. They’re not looked upon highly, but they get to say they’re in. There are people there who are related to the first presidents of the United States, and there are people who are younger sons of titled and landed estates who came to America to get some land.” Holly smiled to herself. “But of course, get to Europe and they don’t care that you’re fifteen generations removed from some small earldom. That’s where the money and power come in. Which is why some people can be the upper crust of the elite, understand?”

“I think so,” Theresa said. “So why are we at the dress shop?”

Holly arched an eyebrow. “Because of your role, of course. You are now a society matron. True, I won’t put you in something that screams sixty-year-old vintage, but neither can you wear anything inappropriate.”

“But Ethan gave me a bunch of dresses,” Theresa said. “I have lots of formal wear I’ve never worn.”

Holly sighed. “Yes, Theresa. Ethan gave you dresses. He gave you OUR dresses—dresses that Jules and I had worn, and I can tell you that those dresses, even my old dresses, are completely inappropriate for the mother of the next Crane baby.”

Theresa gravitated to a rack of formal wear.

“NO!” Holly said, pulling Theresa away from the rack Julia would be drawn to. “You have to know the rules.”

“More rules?” Theresa asked pitifully.

“There are always rules, and until you’ve been in the Club at least ten or so years, breaking the rules results in censure. We do not want to bring rumors down upon the Crane family, now do we, Theresa?”

“N-no,” she stammered. “Do we get to try on dresses?” she asked as Holly was pulling things from a different rack.

“First,” Holly said, holding the pile of clothing out, “the rules.” Holly began holding up dresses to illustrate. “You are no longer a young, nubile woman in search of a husband, therefore certain clothing is basically wrong for you. No slits higher than the knee,” she said, holding up a beautiful black, form-fitting gown with a slit on the side which would reach the wearer’s waist. Holly crumpled the dress on the ground, watching Theresa’s glowing eyes turn to an expression of horror. Holly was going to enjoy this. “No cleavage,” Holly continued, dropping another dress to the floor. “Nothing in multiple colors, especially if the colors are far too close to be called the same shade, yet different enough to clash. I was so happy to find that hideous dress out of my closet when I came home. Never wore the thing, and it just hung there… But I digress. Nothing tight to your body—at least not in your condition. Nothing strapless unless you have a matching jacket or shawl, which is worn AT ALL TIMES. Nothing red. Red dresses are worn by women looking to have an affair, or at the insistence of a husband who is using his wife to whore. Unmarried women may wear red. You’ll probably see Julia in red at many gatherings, but back to the rules. Pink is a little girl’s color. Mauve is for bridesmaids, as is puce. Magenta borders on whore and Fuchsia borders on little girl. I’d put you in a nice floral, but the rest of society would not buy that, as you are far too young to be in florals.”

Theresa stared at the pile of dresses on the floor. She was sure Holly would make her go naked.

“On the other hand,” Holly continued, mindless of the mess she was making, “Anything you would see at a high school prom is definitely OUT. Nothing screams ‘Wannabe’ like a poofy prom dress. So right now, we need something in a princess waist—to cover your little bun. I’ll see what I can find here, and we’ll have it altered to fit. Holly moved about the racks a bit longer while Theresa longingly caressed some of the items carelessly tossed to the floor. She returned with four dresses she found mostly appropriate, and if nothing worked on Theresa, then Father would be hiring a seamstress.

“So, how many generations of Cranes do you know?” Theresa asked from the dressing room.

“Several,” Holly said. “And I know more on my mother’s side,” she added.

“Why is that?”

“Because one of my ancestors decided a way to keep track of her children. So I’m Holly who is daughter of Ivy, daughter of Rose, daughter of Violet, Iris, Lilly, Amaryllis, Petunia, Orchid, Laurel, Jasmine, Willow, Heather…”
 
 

* * * * * * *

Kay, Jess, and Noah were laughing hysterically as Julia blandly recited the names of her female ancestors. “Heather’s father was a Scot. Legend has it that when she was born he said ‘Och,’” Julia recited with a fair approximation of a Scottish accent.
“He said ‘Och?’” Noah asked, wiping his eyes. “Truly?”

Julia punched him in the arm. “Aye,” she insisted, still in accent. “Angus MacDougal. He said ‘Och, the wee lassie’s as bonnie as the heather she was made in.” Julia’s miserable Scottish accent set off a new burst of laughter.

“And Heather’s mom was?” Jess asked.

“Nightshade,” Julia replied. “Nightshade was a witch, and was going to be burned, but apparently Angus convinced her to repent, and they got married. She changed her name to Enid.”

“And speaking of witches,” Kay said motioning to the doorway, “here comes Charity.”

Jessica turned to her sister. “Don’t use that tone of voice, Kay, just because you don’t like Charity. You should be more civil to her. She is our cousin.”

Kay brushed Jess off and went to the door where she was sure Miguel would be sure to follow Charity in. Sure enough, the kid Julia had tagged as Dopey followed the blond in. “Hi Miguel,” Kay said brightly. “Charity,” she added not as happily.

“Hey Kay,” Charity said, finding a table near the window which she preferred.

Miguel turned to Charity. “Can I get your coat, Charity?” he asked, ignoring the fact that Kay had greeted him.

Julia noticed Kay’s crestfallen appearance. “If you’re out to protect your baby sisters,” she said to Noah, “you might want to start with that guy.”

Noah shook his head. “Miguel’s been Kay’s best friend forever.”

“He’s not treating her like one,” Julia pointed out. Watching Kay, Julia noticed a familiar figure also enter the Book Café. She clenched her hands into tight fists as Aidan sidled up to Kay and began whispering something in her ear. Kay laughed. Julia slammed her chair away from the table, not catching Noah’s look of alarm. Julia gave a painted smile to her brother, and pulled Kay out of his lethal attention. “Stay away from him, Kay,” Julia warned as she pulled Kay back to the safe shelter of Noah’s table.

“He doesn't look that bad,” Kay said.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy on him,” Julia said vehemently.

“Really,” Kay said with an interested tone.

Julia pulled Kay’s attention away from Charity. “Really, Kay, it’s not worth it. That’s my brother Aidan, and he’s trash.”

“Always nice to see you, sister, dear,” Aidan said with a mocking smile.

“You know what I think of you, Aidan. You know what Holly and I both think of you,” Julia spat. “Why did you come home. You’re not welcome here!”

Aidan looked down at manicured fingernails and adjusted the shirt cuff peaking out from his sweater. “That is a very nice scarf you are wearing, Julie,” he said politely. “And your friends seem quite nice,” he said with an interested smile.

Jessica blushed. Kay seemed not to care. Noah remained seated, though he watched Juila’s brother for any signs he would do something inappropriate towards his sister—even his honorary sister.

“I’m glad you like my scarf,” Julia said coldly. “I had to pull it out of storage.”

They did not notice Charity and Miguel join them near the table. “It is a nice scarf,” Charity said, admiring an end. “I wonder if you would let me see it?”

“No,” Julia said quickly.

“Please?” Charity said, reaching for the knot.

“No!” Julia repeated, louder, slapping Charity’s hands away. Charity gave an imploring look at Miguel.

He picked up one silky end. “Please?” he asked, “She won’t do anything to it. Charity’s very careful.”

Julia gave him an icy stare. “I said no,” she insisted.

Kay put a restraining hand on Miguel’s arm. “Miguel,” she said, “Julie doesn’t want to show it.”

Miguel stopped. “Well, you know what Luis always says about the Cranes. She must think she’s too good to let Charity admire her scarf,” he said, sounding like his older brother.

Julia bit her lip in anger. “God damnit!” she screamed. “If you want to see it, there!” She quickly untied the scarf from her neck, handing it to Charity. “Keep it, I don’t give a damn about the blasted scarf!”

As soon as the scarf left Julia’s neck, Noah was on his feet seeking out the sniveling coward who had harmed her. He tapped Aidan on the shoulder and punched him in the gut. “No one hurts my sisters,” he said, standing over the obnoxious Crane, seeing his own glare of hatred mirrored in Aidan’s eyes.
 
 
 
 
 

Chapter 19
Chapter 17
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