I didn't set the alarm clock for Monday morning, I simply let the autumn sunshine gently wake me. The coffee was waiting, I gathered up the morning paper which had been deposited at my door and plopped on the sofa to dwell over it and the rest of the pot of coffee.
As my mantel clock struck 9:00, I realized it was time to get ready for my luncheon with Mr. Emerly. The magazine people were anxious to see the story and I hoped I could finish the interview this afternoon and polish off the article tonight.
I showered and walked to my closet. As I reached for another pair of tailored slacks, I thought it would be far more pleasant to wear a dress again. I hadn't dressed since my last divorce. But, I wouldn't let those thoughts creep into my mind and spoil my mood. I chose a teal colored knit dress, coweled at the collar and belted at the waist, I kicked aside my practical loafers and stepped into a pair of 2" sienna leather heels. I gave myself an approving nod and went straight to the table to gather things for my interview. There was really no gathering to be done because I suddenly realized I hadn't touched anything since Friday afternoon. I shook my head in disbelief, grabbed my briefcase, and headed to the parking garage.
Just as before, the drive into the country did me a world of good and as I once again passed out of the shady oak tunnel Tanglewood revealed it self to me. This time Mr. Emerly was standing on the veranda at the stop of the steps and quickly came down to open my car door. "I'm so glad you could make it, Miss Prentiss. As you very well know, I entertain rarely but do enjoy it immensely when I do. I have been looking forward to this little luncheon all weekend." By that time he had lead me to the seating area on the east side of the veranda and smoothly pulled out my chair for me. As I sat, "I did enjoy your gardens last Friday and was looking forward to seeing you again, as well. As you can imagine, my magazine friends are putting quite a bit pressure on me to finish up the article in time for the next edition. I was hoping you would grant me an interview today."
I slid the Irish linen napkin across my lap noticing that Mr. Emerly motioned to someone through the French doors, and a servant appeared with two salads. She sat them in front of us, first mine then Mr. Emerly's. Although no stranger to fine dining, I had never seen a tossed salad quite like this, the base layer was of course a frilly lettuce, but then on top were julienne strips of bright red, brilliant pink, sunny yellow, and minced pieces of something lavender. I crinkled my eye brows and Mr. Emerly laughed at me, "I hope you enjoy the salad, it's an old recipe given to me by a wonderful Creole woman many years ago. It's filled with baby greens, herbs, and edible flowers I'm sure will delight you. We serve it with a simple balsamic vinaigrette so as not to confuse the flavors. Tell me if you like it."
"Although I understand you are originally from Wisconsin, I hope our sweet tea is to your liking. It is also a special blend, one that I'm particularly fond of."
The salad was honestly very good. Nothing like I had tasted before, bitter and sweet and tangy all at the same time. The little minced laven der pieces were crunchy and had a wonderful texture.
"You were telling me about your marriage, Miss Prentiss. Can I intrude into your life a little further and ask if you were a virgin when you married Peter?"
"Good Lord, Mr. Emerly! You certainly don't mince words, do you? But, my business with you here is professional, if you grant me an interview I promise my article will be honest and forthright. If not, we need not waste each other's time."
"Oh, my dear, forgive me," his blue eyes almost transfixed me, "I suppose it is just an over-zealousness on my part to make a friend here in Savannah. I do apologize, I am not usually this forward. Of course, I will give you your interview ... it will be my pleasure to do so. And we will get right to it after dessert ... I had my calendar cleared for you this afternoon."
I exhaled and realized that perhaps I had reacted far too strongly to this obviously kind man, I shouldn't always be so guarded.
The rest of the luncheon went without incident. After the salad we were served a delicious warm pasta with medallions of grilled duck breast accompanied by a crusty Italian peasant bread. Mr. Emerly and I chatted about the weather, local politics, whether we thought the Georgia Bulldogs would go all the way this year.
As the last of the dishes were cleared away, Mr. Emerly pulled out a cigarette, "Do you mind if I smoke?"
"Not at all", I replied.
"Would you care for coffee?"
"Oh, yes", I replied
Mr. Emerly motioned again, and the same servant brought out the familiar silver tray. After she went back into the house, Mr. Emerly poured my coffee ...
"Now, my dear, I'll tell you a little about my life ...
My remarkable life had a totally unremarkable beginning.
I was born in a quiet little town to an industrious farmer and his wife. Through no fault of my own, I was born late and hard. My mother labored courageously to bring me into this world, then bruised, exhausted and weak she gladly left this plain. My name was to have been William Austin Emerly, Jr. But when Mother died, Dad decided to name me after her family, so I became Jackson Austin Emerly.
My Dad was my whole world. He did his best to be everything to me, but it wasn't easy for him. Raising a bullheaded, gregarious boy was more of a challenge than he'd bargained for. He worked hard, sweated a living out of dirt, and then tried his best to teach me right from wrong and bring me up in a way that would have made Mother proud.
