Wavering Mollisher

The Lady in Blue

Della sneaks by her father on the couch. She places a handwritten note on the table next to him, explaining her absence. She looks lovingly at her father, sadness washing over her. She dreads leaving him behind, but she needs to prove her capability to herself, Lucas and Caroline. She was tired of being the damsel in distress!

Della places a chaste kiss on Charles’s head. “I love you, Papa. I promise I will keep us safe.” With the goodbyes settled, she slips out the door.

Della wanders down Merryville’s Main Street, her eyes taking in the night scene. Her mother had warned her about the “creatures” that prowled Main Street after dark. Main Street was known to locals as the “sinner district”- where drunks, adulterers, and mollingers reside. 

Della swallows as she sees men and women walk about the street, partaking in the entertainment the establishments provided. Drunk men would occasionally eye Della, but fortunately, none tried to stop her. Della approaches a dimly lit intersection with one light hanging from a frail wire. Across the street, a beautiful woman in a strapless blue dress and golden earrings lurked about, waiting for customers.

The woman spots Della when she walks under the light “OI! Girly!” The woman calls out. Della ignores the calls, picking up the pace as she walks past.

“Ya ignoring me, girly? That’s alright. You aren’t going to last much longer by yourself.” The woman yells after her.

Della whirls around. “Sorry?”

“What do ya think men are out here for? There are monsters that come out at night, and they look for a woman to warm their bed and perform sick deeds. I’m trying to look at for ya.” The woman gruffly states.

Della walks back to the woman. “How can you help me?"

The woman slowly eyes Della. “How about ya keep me company? Ya, look upset and like ya need a friendly ear.”

Relief washes over Della at the prospect of not being alone in the dark street. “I’m Della.”

 “Angie. Pleased to meet ya. Now tell me what brings a lady such as yerself on the night streets.”

Della takes a long sigh and begins to tell Angie her story.

“That sounds like a predicament.” Angie mused when Della finished her story. “I don’t blame ya for running away. Your lovers are coddlin' ya.”

“That is how I feel.” Finally, someone understands how Della feels.

“Although, I’m jealous of ya. Lucas Clarke? I can’t imagine a woman who wouldn’t want him falling at her feet.”

 “Including you?” Della curiously asks.

“Sure. If I wante' a husband.” Angie snickers. “I will help ya get yer answers. It will take some patience. I know every man that walks these streets, and some are members of the Upper Class. What say ya about goin’ undercover?” Angie’s grin widens.

A lightbulb flashes in Della’s head. “Wait, are you saying I should…”

 “Be a lady of the evenin? Ya, I’ll look out for ya.” Angie assures her.

Della feels like she can trust Angie. “Alright then. Is there somewhere I can stay?”

 “Ya can stay with me. Come, I’m done with work for tonigh’. Will get home and tomorrow we need to go shoppin’. You need to look less appropriate.”

“This color will look amazing on ya!” Angie holds up a provocative pink dress. It was the following morning and Angie had gotten back from the store with several flashy dresses. 

“It’s sort of, showy.” Della touches the delicate fabric and the lacework on the corset.

“That’s the point, girl! We have to show off the goods.” Angie holds the dress to Della’s body.

“I have never worn anything like this.” Della looks at her reflection in a nearby mirror. 

“You should wear something like this more. Ya r beautiful. Ya must show those curves. Surely yer Caroline and Lucas woul’ ravish ya if they saw you dressed in this!” Angie teases.

 Angie’s teasing has the desired effect as Della’s cheeks burn at the image of Lucas and Caroline’s lips on her body.

Angie’s hands play with Della’s hair. “Have ya thought about havin’ ‘em both?”

 Della’s face is burning. How could Angie read her thoughts? “Umm, that isn’t appropriate.”

Angie twists Della’s red curls into a half-updo. “Who says? I ‘ave friends who have more than one partner. If you referring to ‘ose uppities, they ‘ave no room to speak. Many of the Upper-Class men and women are out sleepin’ with a different partner.”

“That is an excellent point but even if I wanted that, those two can’t be in the same room without arguing,” Della says regretfully.

 “That's an issue.” Angie agrees with her. “Aha! Ya should wear yer hair down.”

Della looks at her curls in the mirror. She can’t argue with Angie, her curls frame her face when they cascade down her shoulders.