Dear reader:
All the characters in this story are over 18 at the time of any naughty behavior.
This little tidbit is the background to the beautiful historical story created by PixieHoff,
Meet Me In St. Louis
. It fills the background for some of our characters in her lovely story. I apologize for the delay; the holidays got in the way.
Thank you, Pixie, for allowing me to contribute to your story.
Diana in the Offing
Charlotte Marie Archer (nee Abadie) was gifted an old soul. It must have been, you see. Otherwise, the weight of her circumstances would have crushed her as similar conditions had done so many others.
She entered the world in her parents' bed on a chilly spring morning. Her loving father was away making a living, while her beloved mother, having given life to her one and only baby, survived just long enough to kiss the infant and give her the name Charlotte, a name the failing mother had dreamed of the night before her water broke.
That bed was in the Soulard neighborhood of Saint Louis, Missouri, on January 9th in the year of our Lord 1901.
Charlotte was beautiful even from the start. Her late mother, Marie, was considered an uncommon beauty, tall at five foot five, with midnight black hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin as delicate as the best porcelain in any house in Saint Louis. Of course, Marie was poor, as were most in her neighborhood, but Marie was loved and educated by her family as best they could, hoping an education might secure her a future. In a way, it did, as it was that education that brought Pierre into her life.
Pierre Michel Archer was a handsome young man with a keen intellect, but he lacked motivation and could not seem to apply that gift in any materially beneficial way. Finally, in desperation, his parents engaged Marie as a tutor for Pierre, who was neglecting his studies. Marie was gifted with the patience of Job, which was required to teach the easily distracted Pierre, leading to long hours of study.
Unsurprisingly, nature took its course, and Pierre asked Marie to be his bride.
Neither family was sanguine about the match, but truth be told, Marie's parents were happy to have the girl out of the house as times were tough in the French Quarter. Pierre's family was better connected and certainly wealthier. There was talk, but Pierre would hear nothing ill said of Marie and, by extension, her family. The young couple married in the spring of 1900. Soon after, a blessing was on its way. Happily, his pending fatherhood provided Pierre with a reason to focus and to become a good provider. He found work on the railroads, and his studies allowed him to advance quickly as one of their top engineers; now with his keen intellect engaged he became an exceptional asset to the Union Pacific railway. That value found him miles from home when his beloved Marie breathed her last.
Baby Charlotte inherited many magnificent gifts from her parents. Marie was loved by all who knew her, kind, generous to a fault, a devout Catholic but not a pretentious one. Her father, Pierre, was brilliant, charismatic, tall, and handsome. Charlotte Marie gained her mother's gentle nature, innate wisdom, and love for learning. She gained her father's keen intellect, of course, which melded with her mother's. Further, she blended her father's rugged features with Marie's loveliness to make Charlotte grow into a tall, elegant, well-formed woman early in her life.
The single dark cloud in Charlotte's life was the relationship with her papa. Pierre did not take Marie's passing well; who would, after all? However, even with his pain and melancholy, he was a good, if distant, father and the baby was loved for Marie's sake if nothing else. Many local women came forward to help Pierre so that baby Charlotte may have lost her mother, but she gained a dozen aunties who loved her as their own.
As Charlotte grew to resemble her mother more and more each day, poor Pierre grew more distant, never emotionally abandoning the child, but work, somehow, always seemed to draw him away.
Although she had all the education that a young girl of her station could desire, what she wanted was her papa's attention. She was gifted in music, playing flute and harp, but her true love was the piano. So, she threw herself into its study so that when her father returned, she would play for him. She would play the songs, especially one that he and Marie had shared, bringing tears of joy and sadness for a woman that Pierre grieved and Charlotte never knew save through that one song.
She was playing that piece when the telegram arrived. Pierre had been helping inspect some new switchyards in Omaha. Someone became confused, and signals were improperly given. Pierre died instantly, there was no pain, but there would be no traditional funeral. His body was shipped back by the railroad at no charge, so well-liked was he that they also covered the cost of a respectful and well-attended funeral.
That left Charlotte an orphan at 15, with no family financially able to aid her. Her maternal grandparents had passed from scarlet fever in her youth, and her paternal grandparents had fallen on hard times due to her grandfather's fondness for drink and cards. No one bothered her, as there were so many others in greater need, and Charlotte was poised and capable of taking care of herself. After all, she had been doing so for years. Everyone was more than happy to let her blaze her trail.
Charlotte was a pragmatic sort, with a will of steel forged in the white-hot furnace of loss, then sharpened and tempered by her pragmatism through loneliness and the necessity to fend for herself as best she could.
Her father's legacy exceeded his debts, but not enough to allow her to live without income, and that left her few options as she was still too young to work in a proper position. Luckily one of her mother's friends helped her secure a living playing piano at a lady's club. A club frequented by the upper echelon of the community. She was beautiful, poised, well-mannered, and a talented musician — all the attributes required of a desirable young woman. Of course, no one would have suspected that she was a girl of only 15.
While she played piano, Charlotte learned by watching the ladies. How they moved, interacted, dressed, spoke, and held themselves was an invaluable education. She took in all on the surface, but she was bright enough to also learn much from the unseen. Saint Louis has always been an insular community with unique customs and behaviors, so she learned.
It was at the garden club that Charlette made the acquaintance of Lady Emily. Emily was a widow but also a woman of some means. Everyone assumed it was wealth she had brought with her from England, but there were whispers of other sources of income. Charlotte learned that Lady Emily was a philanthropist and was well respected.
Things changed with the war in 1914. America was not directly involved in combat, at least not yet, but many young men and even a few women volunteered in England and France. One such young man was the nephew of one of the ladies of the club. His name was Johnathan Andrews, a handsome young man who was a law student at Saint Louis University, an athlete who loved rugby, but his secret love was aeronautics.
An older Charlotte, now 17, met Johnathan at a garden party; she was moving through a Brahms piece accompanying a string quartet when the handsome young man came to stand beside her piano. Within minutes the piano was abandoned, and she was dancing with the gorgeous boy in his brand-new British airman's uniform. He went on about his plans, becoming a pilot, becoming a hero, and coming home to be with the right girl.
