Well Made and Enduring

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Can a Boston blue-blood find her place?
10.7k words
4.62
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/25/2016
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Chapter 1 -- Existential Instantiation

Elspeth hated her on sight. The evening was already not going well and the towering woman turned it into a disaster. As soon the woman appeared, she demanded attention. It would be hard to identify the most arresting part of the woman's appearance. She was almost six feet tall. Her dreadful posture ought to have made her seem shorter, but the aggressive stance negated that small handicap. Her jeans and T-shirt were intentionally tattered. Her massive breasts sagged unsupported under the thin black cotton. Nipple rings made clearly visible impressions in the fabric, with an occasional glint of gold through a tear. She could have been a poster for tough and uncultured until she opened her mouth.

Her name was Siobhan Richards. She gave it as if daring someone to mispronounce it. Her primary accent was country, upstate New York, New Jersey or possibly Pennsylvania, but Elspeth heard an overlay that said Ivy League. Clearly, her date did not. For that, there was no excuse. David Winthrop was Ivy League of Ivy League, going back four generations. He was more than willing to say so. He built up a sneer as the woman, Siobhan Richards, admitted to some hours from Rutgers. Elspeth had just time to note the New Jersey connection when Ms. Richards suckered punched David with Yale's graduate school. While David floundered for something to say, Ms. Richards turned her attention to Elspeth.

Elspeth Otis-Endicott was a Boston blue-blood of the first order. Intense scrutiny was nothing new. Indeed, Elspeth had spent more than the usual allotment of time with Beacon Hill's semi-official ruling lady—Adele "Grandmother" Cabot. The tiny woman was never less than perfectly correct and was quite gifted at informing young girls where they were lacking. That sort of dry inspection paled to nothing before the withering gaze of Siobhan Richards. It lasted only seconds, but Elspeth's life would never be the same.

Chapter 2 -- Waiting, Anticipating...

The rest of the evening was predictable. Ms. Richards calmly cut David Winthrop into bite sized pieces. Though she did not flinch from coarse language, the tenor of Ms. Richard's discourse was detached, even clinical. Before long, she was providing David's side of the argument, as if to save time. Were Elspeth not in a state of near shock, she might have appreciated the skill at argument. Instead, she drank in the aura of a higher authority.

When Ms. Richards rose from her stool and walked out of Elspeth's life, it was as if the air was sucked out of the room. If anything, the next day was worse. David wanted another date but Elspeth could no longer take him seriously. It was not as if there was physical chemistry to buttress the relationship. After only two attempts, David Winthrop bestowed a few carefully chosen vulgar words to commemorate the breakup. The biggest hardship were the well-meaning questions about the relationship. David was "suitable", with all that word's baggage.

Holyoke was a relief. The familiar grind of classes and homework worked its magic. If the instructors seemed a bit slow, who could say why? If the dating opportunities seemed lacking, Elspeth was never popular. Eventually, weeks turned into months. Coursework and exams turned into grades, then a degree. Grades and applications turned into an admission to Dartmouth's graduate school. No one in the family said so, but everyone hoped Elspeth could find something worthwhile to do. By then, wishing for a significant other, male or female, was too much to ask.

Hanover, New Hampshire was a significant change, even from South Hadley, Massachusetts. The small town had almost nothing Elspeth associated with civilization. In a sense, it was like summer camp. Still, she was not the only Bostonian at Dartmouth. She even encountered a summer cabinmate. Also, a college campus is a college campus. Before her first class, Elspeth was settled in.

The instructor was late. Almost five minutes after class was supposed to begin, a large, unkempt woman, with long black hair rushed through the door. She threw her bookbag on a chair and grabbed some chalk. On the board, she wrote: Sociology-521 Dr. Siobhan Richards. Elspeth watched with an icy lump growing in her gut. Before Dr. Richards turned to face the class, Elspeth was saying, "No way. No freaking way."

It could have been worse. Elspeth had the anonymity of a group. Clearly, Dr. Richards remembered her. Just as clearly, she had never caught Elspeth's name that night. No joy there. Elspeth's full name was on the roster. Once the connection was made, Elspeth dreaded being singled out. She wasn't.

Instead, Dr. Richards spent the first ten minutes discussing the book. She commented that there was a suggested readings list in the syllabus, then ignored it the rest of the period. On Wednesday, she never mentioned the book. On Friday, there was a quiz, half on the lectures and half on the readings. That set a pattern. A class might be lecture, Q&A, analysis of a study, whatever. The weekly quizzes covered it all and also the extensive reading. Even by ivy League standards, it the workload was harsh.

The fact was not lost on Elspeth's classmates. She formed a study group with two of them, occasionally joined by some of the others. In addition to the work, considerable time was spent discussing Dr. Richards' appearance. Elspeth drew up a questionnaire, asking which was the worst part, Dr. Richards' face, figure, clothing, posture or hair. The last was unfair. On the rare occasions it was recently washed, the long black hair was almost attractive. None-the-less, the questionnaire was a big hit.

Graduate schools are by their nature small communities. Even if she wanted to avoid Dr. Richards, it simply was not possible. Elspeth found she did not want to avoid her. The remainder of the first term was prickly, but it was soon over. After that, when there was no threat of grade retaliation, Elspeth could snipe verbally to her heart's content. It helped pass the time and it was a real challenge.

Despite the obvious hooks offered by her unkempt appearance, Dr. Richards was not a soft target. Harping on appearance was repetitive and dangerous. It would not do to be considered unkind. Other areas of Dr. Richards' tenure were fair game, but difficult to fault. Almost in passing, Elspeth noted enough details about Dr. Richards to fill a long paper. Term had just ended when it all changed.

The call came on the 20th of May. Finals were over. Papers and tests had been submitted. Thoughts were on the upcoming holiday weekend and the summer to follow. As usual, Elspeth had nothing planned beyond the obligatory family functions. Word went out that Dr. Richards was recruiting people to help with a period wedding, circa 1910. A bit miffed that she had not been contacted, Elspeth approached Dr. Richards demanding an explanation.

Rather than explain, Dr. Richards played a recorded phone conversation. Like the night three years before in Boston, Elspeth's life was changed forever. The whole call was less than two minutes. For Elspeth, the important part was in the middle.

Caller: I will confirm, without comment. How involved do you wish to be in this, uh, endeavor? I understand you have considerable background in the social sciences. I want to do a period theme, hence the corsets. Interested?

Dr. Richards: You cannot be serious. No. My God. Do you realize you are asking an Ivy League anthropologist if she wants to be involved with the re-creation of a period social event? In my, literally, own back yard? I would do this if the wedding was in Sri Lanka, in summer. How many grad students should I bring?

Caller: What do you mean, grad students?

Dr. Richards:Think of them as slave labor. I can think of three girls, off the top of my head, that could use this for their thesis research. I know half a dozen more that would do it for the fun. You do understand this is what some of us live for, right?

Caller: Just so they understand that I am a dominatrix in my day job.

Elspeth had chills.

Chapter 3—New Jersey

The next day was a madhouse. The wedding was themed in early 20th century, including fitted dresses and corsets. Once word leaked, the whole Humanities program wanted in on it. Cutting down to just twelve graduate students was non-trivial. Dr. Richards hand-picked about half the crew. Elspeth assured her position by getting there early and refusing to leave. It offered many opportunities to make dry comments on the benefits of planning

Dr. Richards' revenge was to hand Elspeth a packet of travel plans and telling her to get everyone on the vans to the airport. Once she had assured herself that Elspeth knew who, what, where, and when, Dr. Richards made a full stop. Looking Elspeth directly in the eye, Dr. Richards asked, "Will you do it?"

It was the same penetrating gaze that had searched Elspeth years before. As before, Elspeth yielded to it. As before, Siobhan Richards walked away, leaving Elspeth a mess. However, she was a mess with an assignment. Elspeth was nothing if not organized.

Everyone was at the regional airport on time. Elspeth even warned some of the girls that their luggage would not make the flight. Credit cards came out. The group boarded with Elspeth coming last. She had once lost a cousin at Logan Intl. Airport. It was not an experience she intended to repeat.

The scene at Liberty Intl. Airport showed that Dr. Richards was less organized. Everyone went to the baggage claim and scattered. Instructions were for two bags. In one case that became seven bags. In another, it was two full sized trunks. Of the twelve, only three had complied. The rest were upset that there was no capacity to keep the bags with the owners. Credit cards came out again.

Eventually, much of the baggage was crammed into a Suburban. Two cabs were hired to carry six of the people. Elspeth shook her head as she climbed into the van. She was justified when one of the cabs, then the other, turned off into nightclub parking lots. One would make it to the motel. One never did.

Morning brought more revelations. Dr. Richards was not going to be joining them that day. She was due in the City for a wardrobe fitting. Instead, four large men were giving instructions and taking no shit in return. The nine remaining grad students were hustled through breakfast and out to the site. They were put to work helping with the cleaning and furniture moving. It was bad enough for Elspeth and the others from the Suburban. The other three were hung over, two quite badly. About eleven o'clock, Conrad threw up all over himself. He was cleaned with a garden hose.

The night before, Elspeth had been critical of everything. That morning, everyone else was being critical, so Elspeth took a back seat. As the day rolled on, she began to appreciate the boot camp approach. Through their tasks, the crew became familiar with the lay of the house and the grounds. They learned who was in charge of what. They learned the daunting scale of the task. Most importantly, they were present when the carousel arrived.

Every event has a signature. Most are small and cramped, but some are like John Hancock on the Declaration of Independence. This would forever be the Merry-Go-Round wedding. The group forgot their complaints as they considered the implications. It was massive and loud. Everything would have to be routed around it. Practical questions abounded. The group was even allowed input on the placement.

Not long after that, their ultimate boss showed up. C. Sean Richards was CEO of a billion-dollar private firm. It showed. He wasted no time on pleasantries. Instead, he told them to find a stopping place. Beer, soda, and pizza were coming. They could discuss the division of labor as they ate. Dr. Richards, it appeared, was still in Brooklyn. Mr. Richards asked for a stand-in for the morning. Elspeth was taking notes. Much to her surprise, she was selected as team leader.

It was still early, but the day had been difficult. They had been rousted at six-thirty. After breakfast, they were worked ten hours, with only a short break at lunch. Even after the pizza dinner, everyone was back to the motel and in bed by ten. Six-thirty still came very soon. By seven-thirty, everyone had food ordered at the Waffle House. Elspeth passed out some paperwork she had been given. After the meal, she picked it up, then went to the restroom.

Moments later, Elspeth emerged from the washroom, hunting in her purse for a pen. She heard Dr. Richards familiar voice. Glancing up, Elspeth dropped her purse and kicked it, spilling the contents everywhere. The person speaking could not be Siobhan Richards. The woman glanced at the floor. Only then did Elspeth notice the mess her purse had made. The woman's smile widened to a grin.

It was impossible. This woman stood straight and radiated authority. She was at least two inches taller and twenty pounds lighter than Dr. Richards. The hair could work since it was long and black, but uncharacteristically clean and brushed. The clothes would work, torn jeans and T-shirt, but the shoes were wrong. This woman wore Naturalizer sandals with a tall heel. It could not be Dr. Richards, but it was. Elspeth felt light-headed.

Fortunately, Dr. Richards ignored her. Instead, she told the group to get back to the house and get started. Dr. Richards would be following as soon as she found some suitable shoes. That caused a laugh. Prior to that day, Dr. Richards signature fashion statement had been mismatched Army boots. The heeled sandals looked good on her but they were not suitable for grassy hills. There were a couple of snickers, but everyone understood it was a valid reason.

Contrasting the previous day, no one told them where to go. Everyone looked to Elspeth. Frightened half speechless, Elspeth pulled out her notebook and reminded everyone what they commented needed doing. Most of the others found this sufficient and went to get started. Only three remained. Evaine wanted to work with the Amish, but they had not yet arrived. Jasper was at loose ends because his area, history, had already been co-opted by Conrad and Kerin. The group's resident foodie, D. Douglas Danvers, never made it to the motel. Mr. Richards had mentioned a catering company. Elspeth suggested that Jasper look into catering and food service. Jasper went off to investigate.

Watching him go, Elspeth let out a breath she did not realize she had been holding. Suggestions were one thing, but Elspeth hated giving directions. She was much more comfortable collecting information and relaying someone else's instructions. With that in mind, she and Evaine went to find the Brothers Gilbert, heads of House and Grounds. They might appreciate a report. In return, they might know what to do next. The three were still talking when Dr. Richards strode up.

Elspeth saw her coming, so she had a chance to analyze the radical change. It was not the clothes, though Adidas cross trainers and an IZOD golf shirt were vast improvements over Army boots and a torn concert T-shirt. Underwear was another story. For the first time since they had met, Dr. Richards wore a bra and something else. It had to be a girdle of some kind—she looked twenty pounds thinner—but Elspeth had never heard of one so effective. Still, that was not it.

Grandmother's inspections provided the answer. Almost without thinking, Elspeth went through her checklist. While there was a demerit here and a demerit there, none were major. The jeans and running shoes were appropriate. The unbound hair was quite attractive, blowing in the breeze. No makeup, but that was a quibble. It was when the checklist reached deportment that Elspeth gasped. From the worst posture Elspeth had ever seen, Dr. Richards had become marginally acceptable, literally overnight.

More than that, Dr. Richards was plainly aware. Once she knew to look, Elspeth caught Dr. Richards correcting her posture several times. The method was clearly different from the one Elspeth had learned, but there was no doubt Dr. Richards could carry a book on her head, at least for a while. It made perfect sense. With a sense of deja vu, Elspeth watched Dr. Richards check and correct her posture. Elspeth recalled a week practicing her posture in front of a mirror. It was days before Grandmother allowed her out of the house. Dr. Richards was a quicker study.

While Elspeth ruminated, the Brothers Gilbert gave progress reports, occasionally supplemented by Elspeth's notes. Michael Gilbert gave a rundown on how the house-cleaning was coming. Mitchel Gilbert went on at length about the merry-go-round and how much space it took. About halfway through, Gerald, the towering head of security came out. He had maps of the house and grounds and a schedule of deliveries and arrivals. Most pressing was the catering truck which would be bringing lunch for the whole crew.

Suddenly, there was no more to say. All eyes turned to Dr. Richards. She simply held out a hand for Elspeth's notepad. Starting a new page, she went around the group, prioritizing projects. Elspeth recognized the attitude. It was the same one Dr. Richards used in her classes. In this context, it was transformed into the voice of authority. Even Gerald, who was clearly ex-military, responded to the snap of command. Dr. Richards seemed oblivious of the effect.

Elspeth was spellbound. Rather than go to her presumed place or to help someone else, Elspeth elected to follow Dr. Richards around. She took notes, made comments, researched things on her phone and generally played gofer. If she had thought about it, Elspeth would have been shocked and a little humiliated. Instead, it was one of the most rewarding days of her life.

It also established a pattern for both the week of wedding preparations and the future. Decades later, in her best-selling biography of Senator Gunter-Richards, Elspeth spent a whole chapter on the first day and another on the balance of the week. Nine graduate students had elected to remain and work. Though it was never formalized, they became a club, with Dr. Richards as unofficial President. In their published work, none of them ever failed to mention the time spent on the wedding.

Each of the others had a part. Evaine disappeared into the Amish contingent. She emerged a week later with marriage proposals. Kerin and Conrad sorted the furniture, dish and tableware, food and beverage, and served as arbiters of period. Harshini, raised in a British colonial mansion in India, ruled over the entrance, cloakroom, and parlors. Michael was master of games and pastimes. Joleen supervised the waterfront where the ceremony took place. Jasper was lord of the dance floor and patio. MIT-trained Vivian coordinated movement.

The day of the wedding, each of them was photographed with a signature work: Kerin and Conrad stood in front of a half-ton oak bar which their crew had moved to the foyer; Michael stood in front of the merry-go-round; Evaine, in Amish dress, stood by a horse-drawn buggy; and so on. In most cases, Dr. Richards posed with them. Not so Elspeth.

She was Dr. Richards assistant, nothing more but nothing less. When Dr. Richards was absent all day Friday, Elspeth had the final say on any details. The wedding, pulled together in four days, became famous worldwide. The finishing touches were Elspeth's though she never took credit. She also never posed for a picture, but there were candid shots with literally everyone. The one Elspeth treasured showed Dr. Richards talking to the bride. Elspeth was off to one side taking notes.

Chapter 4 -- Second Thoughts

The wedding service went off without a hitch. After the ceremony, attention turned to the ballroom. Among the many influences on the planning, Broadway star Francine Martel was among the most important. She had provided stage and set experts, all the bridesmaid's dresses, and several performers. The most profound of these was Dr. Michael Foxworth. Dressed like John Phillip Sousa, he conducted the band that played for the wedding ceremony and the orchestra that played for the ball. The period was circa 1910. That meant ragtime.