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The Young Brides
by Nigel Parr

 

Amanda Christiansen sipped her tea and smoothed the skirt of her tailored, chambray dress. With a purpose in mind, she smiled coyly and ran a perfectly manicured red fingernail around the periphery of her tea cup. Though barely beyond her teenage years, Amanda was already taking on the corseted deportment and presumptuous airs of a middle-aged matron. She glanced across her parlor at her younger sister. "So, tell me, Pamela, has your suitor proposed yet?"

"Not yet," said the teenager. "But he will."

"I see," teased Amanda. "So he believes a fine woman is like a fine wine, then?"

"Oh, please."

Amanda beamed with delight. "Perhaps you should wait, after all. For a different kind of man. Perhaps you're more inclined towards..." Amanda admired her enormous diamond ring. "...the beer hall type. A cheap and brutish arm-chair tyrant! But I never thought you were the kind to take orders, little sister. Not from a man. What's happened to our impertinent little girl? I think we both know that your Eddie will never muster the temerity to propose."

"So what would you do?"

"I think you know very well what I would do."

Pam glared at her older sister, who shot back a devious smile.

"Why not bring him over here for dinner?"

"I want to marry him, not have him skinned alive."

Amanda laughed. "Little old me? A demure housewife?" She primped her brunette chignon and gave a mock fluttering of her eyes.

"You're anything but. We don't want to scare him off!"

Amanda lit up a cigarette. "And here I thought you knew all about the birds and the bees, sister. A queen bee doesn't suffer her suitors. A queen bee prizes her honey, and gives it out in dribbles to keep them wanting. And a queen bee doesn't hesitate to sting them, straight up the behind, when they -- "

"What about Henry?"

"What about him?"

"Will he be here?"

"Where else would he be? He'll be in the kitchen, doing as he's told. I'll probably send him to bed -- after he does the dishes."

"Amanda. You won't go too far, will you?"

"All's fair in war and marriage, dear. The sooner you learn that, the better." She stubbed out her cigarette. "Friday night, then?"

 

 

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