The girls thrived in the South, Victory being the rebel belle of every social gathering. She got a job with the works progress bureau, donned pants and painted flourishing murals on the sides of government buildings, secretly adding her own touches in placing business women on the streets of her scenes, and fathers holding babies. Season came around and Victory was presented to Georgia society by her thoroughly delighted grandmother, and the now beautiful tanned swan emerged, jet black hair curling delicately down her back and alert black eyes teasing every man she saw, uncomfortably decked out in a fluffy pink satin gown, to the sparkling flash of cameras sporting flashbulbs.
Victory entered finishing school, becoming active in the campus chorus and immersing herself in her studies, passing with superior marks after diligent study. Her voice was pure and clear, and her perfect tone rose from the choir, distinguishing her, though she never sang solos due to crushing stage fright at singing alone, one of the few fears she had. Unknown to her, a stout, very short young man with sharply intelligent, but badly focused blue eyes and a monk's ring of wavy platinum blonde hair was fascinated by her voice, being tone deaf himself and deeply desirous of being able to sing. Every performance of the choir, he quietly sat in the audience, wrapping himself in her voice, too shy to approach her, too captivated to pull away. Jedd was falling hard and fast for the mysterious soprano in the choir, a fuzzy source of perfect music to his greatly nearsighted eyes and flawed hearing. He went home and discussed his interest with his father.
Full of energy, Victory went to dances, laughing and kicking off her petticoats to make it easier to move freely. She loved to drag recalcitrant, less popular men to the floor to dance with her, on occasion asking Jedd to dance with her, to which he always stammered a polite decline, turning a deep red as he caught her home-mixed perfume. By summer she caught the attention of a quiet landowner in the area who had recently been discreetly attending the dances just to watch her, who concluded she was a suitable match for his son Jedd. By fall, the ladies received a formal invitation to call on the home of the Johnsons, notorious for owning better than half of the county. Dixie's mother was in an absolute fluster and hobbled around the house ordering the girls to prepare for this auspicious visit.
"I will not wear this, Grandmother!" Victory pouted and threw the heavy blue satin dress on the floor.
"You will and Ah will brook no argument, child." Mrs. Stuart stood her ground, picking the dress back up with her cane and holding it in Victory's face.
"It's not me," she whined, knowing she wasn't going to win this one.
"Ah don't care. You are a lady now, and Jedd is a fine young man. Why else would Joseph invite us to his home? He wants you to meet his son and meet him you will. And prope'ly dressed." Dixie caught up the dress in her hand and stalked over to Victory, punctuating each step with a clop of her cane, and began stripping the teen with or without her permission, muttering 'those awful pants make you look like a farm hand' when she peeled them off Victory.
Victory gave in and allowed the stiff fabric to descend over her, choking back the feeling she was being put in a straight jacket. Mrs. Stuart fastened her up and ordered her to turn to display the full effect. Resplendent in the afternoon sun streaming through the window, and sweltering in the tightly woven fabric, Victory obediently spun around, then promptly fainted, overcome by the heat. Mrs. Stuart let out a deep sigh and loosened the dress bodice until Victory came around.
"I told you I can't wear this," Victory growled upon coming around, rose, stripped off the dress and stalked off to her room in her undergarments.
A meeker Mrs. Stuart knocked on her door a few moments later, quietly proffered a simpler pale violet cotton dress, and disappeared. An equally contrite Victory emerged a few moments later, still beautiful, but much cooler in the peace offering.
Meanwhile, Dixie gleefully dressed in a flowing concoction of embroidered white cotton, handmade lace and petticoats, topping her ensemble off with a frilly white bonnet. She dabbed orange blossom perfume on and walked downstairs for inspection. Her mother laughed, shook her head, and said, "we're not marrying you off, Dixie," and turned her attention to getting her entourage outside into the car, insisting on driving, over the objections of both Dixie and Victory. Mrs. Stuart loved to drive, and a chauffeur was the one servant she never bothered to hire, although she did keep a mechanic on call.
The drive was a thrilling experience of the car wandering all over the road, Dixie's mother having flimsy control over the car due to her hip and fading vision, watching the countryside fly by, at times a bit closer in view than was comfortable, as low hanging branches whipped the windows when Mrs. Stuart lost track of where she was in the process of trying to shift gears. But, they made it, rolling into the Johnson's drive, which made the Stuart's entrance look like the dirt path of a hovel. Victory looked up at the four story country mansion, vines crawling up the brick facade and pillars stretching from porch to roof topped with elaborate plaster capstones. The house wrapped back on both sides endlessly it seemed, surrounded by perfectly cultured gardens of roses and camellias. For the first time in her life, Victory was completely speechless and sat quietly waiting for the butler to open her door to let her out.
Formally greeted, their wraps whisked away into the bowels of the house, the ladies were ushered into a red drawing room, draped in every corner with deep scarlet fabrics, highlighted with gold. Joseph came in next, with his son Jedd, and introductions were made all round with offers of sweet tea and cakes; Joseph casually lighted a pipe smelling sharply of cloves. Distracted, watching the smoke curl from the pipe, Mrs. Stuart sat quietly awaiting Mr. Johnson's intentions. Victory found the young man attractive in a harmless homely sense, vaguely remembering him from the dances, although a bit shorter than her with quiet gray eyes that looked larger than life behind thick wire rimmed glasses, receding blonde wavy hair sharply in contrast to his deep southern tan, and a slight tendency to being heavy, which Victory enjoyed, having only known thinner men in her life to this date. His very quiet, unassuming manner appealed to her, for there was no challenge to her authority in his speech or actions, and his habit of stroking his fingers through his hair amused her in its subtle femininity.
She had been so afraid he'd be another good old boy, and was immensely relieved to learn Jedd was a man of a different cut of cloth, and immediately took to the shy man, hopping up and crossing the room to sit beside him on the sofa, causing him to scoot across to press against the sofa arm in a mild sweat. While Jedd couldn't believe his luck in his father agreeing to this desirable beauty for his companion, this sweet voice that reached out to him in concerts swimming with many voices, he found her intimidating in person in her forwardness and simultaneously attractive in her intelligence. He clung to the curved wood, lightheaded from Victory's musky perfume, uncertain of what was expected of him now, and let his father take the lead.
"I'll come right to the point, Mrs. Stuart," Joseph began in a slow drawl suspiciously more Alabaman than Georgian, standing to face her, drawing on his pipe for emphasis. "I don't like you or your daughter. With all due respect ladies I find you two superficial and mindless." He paused for a moment to let his announcement sink in, amused at the shock spreading over Mrs. Stuart's face, forecasting the lack of reaction in Dixie, who fussed with her skirts to her distraction. "But I do like your granddaughter here. I think she has fire and intelligence and if I weren't such an old coot myself I would propose to her. I like the fact she works. My son attends school, works tool and die evenings, and in the fields on Saturdays, never did think being pale or stupid was becoming. I like the fact she's a fighter. Life isn't going to get any easier these days and I want my son to have a companion who will fight beside him as they grow old. I like the fact she has fun with life, for that is what will give her endurance to survive. And I like the fact she breaks the rules - it's about time somebody did. I know they are young, but if the children get along, I'd like to propose a betrothal between them, to hold until they are both of age."
Victory rose to protest, only to be sharply pulled back to her seat by the skirt of her dress by her grandmother. Not to be stopped, she whipped her skirt away, rose, and spoke.
"I am not a bag of flour to sell to whoever walks by and picks me up. I will not agree to this charade!"
"Victory, sit down and hush," Mrs. Stuart sternly commanded.
"No. I will not. What is this insanity? Women don't get married this way any more and I'll have nothing to do with it!"
"Victory, listen to me carefully. Look at Jedd. I can tell you would like to meet him. Does it really matter how that happens? Think of this just as a proper introduction."
"With a string attached!" Victory stood and stared down her grandmother, fists clenched at her sides.
"I'll take care of that string." Mrs. Stuart told her firmly, yanking her back to her seat. Victory sat with her arms crossed, glaring around the room, and muttered, "you better."
Joseph Johnson casually crossed the room to sit in an ornately needlepoint upholstered parlor chair, his back to the light weakly struggling through the floor-to-ceiling windows, regally occupying it with the ease of a man who is without doubt the head of his household, awaiting their response. He watched the exchange between Victory and her grandmother in bemused silence, having a hard time not laughing outright. Yes, this girl is perfect for his son; he'd made a good decision. He regretted the early death of his wife, who would have been so comforting to have by him in this conversation, and in a fleet moment of weakness hoped he had not offended the ladies so badly they would reject his proposal. Joseph didn't think he had, though, knowing also of Mrs. Stuart's pretense of rising in society and her fundamental greed.
Mrs. Stuart gathered her dignity, stood and replied. "I find your remarks most offensive, Mr. Johnson, but I do agree this may be best for the children."
"Grandmother!" Victory interjected, taking a breath to say more.
"Hush child." Mrs. Stuart continued, ignoring Victory's obvious desire to put in her own two cents worth. Victory clamped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth, glaring at her grandmother and Mr. Johnson. Jedd scooted even closer to the sofa arm, hugging it for dear life, sweat slowly curling down his collar. Dixie's mother resumed her reply, "however, Mr. Johnson, I feel the children should court first, for I will not have my granddaughter married off to a man she does not love. I was married in that way, and as is unfortunately common gossip in this town, abandoned by the cad when my Dixie was a tiny baby, and I will not have that happen to Victory. A man who loves his wife will not leave her side; I make that my requirement for this match." She firmly tugged down her skirts and regained her seat.
Dixie suppressed an urge to reach out and grasp the tension in the dimly lit room, and kept quiet, since her mother preempted any comment she made, and she was sidetracked anyway by being intensely bored and her eyes wandered around the room taking in the exquisite fabrics and delicate detail of the carpentry of the paneling and bric a brac.
"I agree, Mrs. Stuart. I too will not have my son unloved." Mr. Johnson smiled, a predator in his land, knowing he won. "Shall we begin today?" He turned to address his son, "Jedd, please show Miss Victory the grounds. I am sure she will find them of interest. Mrs. Stuart, Mrs. Saer, I assure you your kin is safe with my son; he is a gentleman." Jedd obediently stood and tried to take Victory's hand to help her stand, but she snatched it away, wiping it on her skirts with a scowl, and stood on her own. He shrugged and showed her the parlor door, which she exited as grandly as she could muster, leaving her clove and vanilla scent behind her like a tangible ghost, pointedly turning her back to the rest of the room, saying nothing. Jedd followed in trepidation of the wake he walked in.
Once outside his father's vision, Jedd relaxed, pleased to see Victory also at ease. He unbuttoned his collar and walked her through the lower floor of the house, easily describing the history in each room and naming the many portraits scattered throughout. Victory politely listened, making insignificant comments until they came to a portrait of a bright-eyed woman, seated on a horse with her head tossed back, blonde hair flowing in the wind.
"Who is this?" she inquired.
"That's my mother. She died falling off a horse when I was four. I don't remember her clearly, but I do remember she wore a scent like fresh mint, and her skin was warm and she used to walk around the house, carrying me on her hip."
"I like her." Victory simply stated, and Jedd turned to look at Victory with a broad smile on his face.
"I did too," he softly replied, and reached across the painting to offer his hand to Victory, who took it with a smile. He walked her outside, to show her the grounds. Victory hitched up her skirts, tying them in knots on the sides to let her walk freely, much to Jedd's partial shock and total amusement. She raved over the rose gardens, stopping to smell every variety, delicately touching the petals, unconsciously beautiful as she held the roses to her cheeks. Jedd felt himself falling, trapped by the vision of her hair softly falling across her face as she bent to smell the roses, watching it glint in the afternoon sun, intrigued by her independence, and unable to keep his eyes off her shapely exposed legs and busom falling forward every time she leaned over, despite her tender youth.
They found a common interest in the composition "The Rite of Spring" by Igor Stravinsky, which both had studied, Jedd in private schooling and Victory in finishing school. They avidly discussed how the music carried its listener through the pagan rite of the virgin maid who dances herself to death in sacrifice to ensure a fertile spring. First there was the beautiful adoration of the earth passage, showing youth and the harbingers of spring, the dramatic mock abduction and lively games between the pagan tribes, followed by the deliberate, forceful procession of the wise ones and the haunting song of the earth. The second half of the composition glorifies the sacrifice, showing the mystery of youth and adolescence, bringing forth the voices of ancestors as the other half of the circle of life, and ending with the final climaxing, dance of death.
Jedd expounded on how he felt that one composition best summarized the whole foundation of pagan ritual, and talked of how that tied into Christian dogma. Victory explained her simpler liking for the piece, in that all women feel like the sacrificial virgin, with the whole tiresome process of dating and finding a mate being a ritual that could dance one to death if they got too deeply engrossed in it.
Jedd laughed and quipped, "and are you dancing now?"
Victory replied, "no. For once I'm walking, and I like it. But my grandmother is certainly dancing!"
"Wonder what she thinks of this 'Russian Bear', Stravinsky?"
"I don't think she knows who he is," quipped Victory, "but I'm sure if she did have an opinion it would be on the other polar from our ideas," Victory smirked.
"Her face would be still as a kodiac photograph," Jedd added, barely suppressing a giggle.
"What a grizzly sight!" Victory continued, beginning to laugh now, unable to hold it in any longer.
"It would be the bruin of us all!" Jedd blurted out, now caught in the throes of a belly laugh, which Victory joined in.
The two young people found in each other the common bond of being very intelligent but socially awkward, Jedd wandering through life in mismatched plaid shorts, striped shirts, white socks and black steel toed work shoes and Victory appearing at church circle meetings with her hair in bobby pins under a gaudy scarf, wearing orange rouge, red lipstick, and maroon nail polish, nearly giving her mother coronaries. While Victory could play the role of the southern belle and conform to propriety and "taste," she preferred to assert her own style, which bordered on carnival extreme, being very fond of bright color and bored to tears of pastels. Their home was not destined to ever make house beautiful, but a lovely affection grew between the couple outshining any interior decorator's dream. Image didn't matter to either of them, for what they saw as important in life was a person's ethics and ability to dream.
Both were creative, Victory bringing Jedd lover's gifts of pine needle rings and paper weights for his desk, and Jedd continually trying to figure out a way to solve the energy needs of the world, making hundreds of sketches of magical machines, their functions known solely to him, excitedly explaining them to Victory, who was clueless as to what he was talking about but listened attentively as if she did understand. Neither of them were entirely focused on reality; they created their own world, oblivious to the outside society. Sexually they were both inhibited, limiting their courtship to shy hand holding and gingerly proffered chaste kisses. Though Victory was an unabashed flirt, the prospect of actual intimate contact frightened her, though casual touching was easy and natural to her. By unspoken mutual agreement they consented to a protracted and gently developed courtship, neither wanting to rush into marriage, though Victory, to her amusement, knew this would slowly drive her mother crazy. By the time they completed their tour, they had chased each other around the barn, falling and rolling together in the hay laughing, met all of the horses, coming out smelling like leather and manure, and run free over the lawns, exchanging teasing challenges of who could run fastest, both winning about equally often, both also letting the other catch them at times. They rolled back into the house and fell into the parlor, out of breath, disheveled and laughing, Victory having forgotten to reassemble her skirts.
Mr. Johnson surveyed the "children" with a pursed smile on his lips. "I see you two enjoyed yourselves," he remarked dryly. Victory laughed and punched Jedd in the deltoid, "he's ok," she giggled and swirled to a seat beside her mother, trying to assemble a properly ladylike expression. Jedd laughed, rubbing his arm, and sat again on the couch, this time in the center of it, keeping his eye on Victory, dubious she would stay put. Dixie absentmindedly brushed off Victory's skirts, untying the knots and smoothing them back down, a grooming Victory suffered in smirking silence. Mr. Johnson called an end to the visit, with the agreement Victory was to visit each day after her chores, to better get to know Jedd. It was never asked, or explained, why he never suggested Jedd visit Victory, and Mrs. Stuart let it ride, knowing all too well the answer to that question. The father assured Dixie the children would be properly supervised, and Dixie nodded silent assent. Bundled back into the car, the ladies sped off in a exhilarated happy retreat, Victory babbling about Jedd and Mrs. Stuart secretly overjoyed.
Dixie liked the intelligent Jedd, and his family coming from the deep south elated her, and she wrote Jacob thrilled to tell him the news. Jedd being from the South bothered Jacob a lot. Holding high aspirations for his children, he did not deem Jedd a suitable match, equating slow southern speech with low intelligence, and agreed to the arrangement with the stipulation that if she married him she was entirely on her own, having lived rather comfortably over the past few years in the resurrection of the store and its profits. Jedd's one saving grace was the purple heart he'd earned in the war, he being nearly a decade older than Victory, from a shot grazing his lung when he played the tuba in the Army band. Initially Jacob felt Jedd was a coward, playing in the band rather than fighting on the lines, until he learned the five-foot-even young man was considered too short for active duty, and the band was the way they allowed him to enlist, although Jacob secretly wondered how on earth a plump man could squeeze in a tuba. When he learned the band played engagements to mortar fire and sniper attacks, he gained respect for the youth, but still felt his Southern background and tool working position beneath his daughter, even though Jedd was now attending college to catch up after his military service. Jacob clawed his way himself out of the factory and had low regard for men who had not achieved the same. What he didn't realize was Jedd was a brilliant inventor, and worked tool and die to create new machines, not assemble them.
Jedd's talents amazed Victory, as he showed her simple inventions that she found remarkable. In the same way Victory struck a chord in Jedd, reaching his heart through her musical gifts, and the two youths began a mutual admiration society. They were a good fit, each complimenting the other's lacks, Jedd's pondering deliberation a balance to Victory's impulsiveness, the girl's stunning if awkward beauty a brightening touch to Jedd's rough simplicity. They dated all over the south, going to plays and operas and musical performances, as much as visiting the zoo and cheering loudly at baseball games. Victory was no lady when it came to watching a sport! It didn't take long for them to become inseparable, and recognized among their peers as a "couple," falling into the graceful comfortable place of a pair who had found in each other their soul mate. While she did see other men to give her greater choices, all Victory did during these dates was to talk about Jedd, a rather discouraging signal to her other suitors, who never returned for a second attempt.
With the abrupt end of the world war blooming over the world in a mushroom cloud, a silent cold war began in the outside world between nuclear nations, and within the Saer letters between Jacob and Dixie, he hoping for better for Victory, preferably a man able to keep her properly in northern society, and Dixie, determined to marry off the girl before she became an old maid she was stuck with. Dixie covertly arranged ways for the couple to get together around the visits to Jedd's home, so they could have some real privacy to court and possibly get carried away, secretly hoping - though she dare not admit it to anyone - a forced marriage would secure the Johnson fortunes for the family. Jacob combed his group of friends for any other man for Victory to meet, setting up long distance blind dates that always went disastrously. Over time he gave in and an uneasy truce was declared; Jedd was allowed to see her exclusively and the couple became officially engaged. The local newspaper carried the headline on the society page, "She is Engaged!" there being no doubt as to who "She" is.