Isabella Monty placed the cluster of shopping bags on the table beside the dresser and proceeded to strip a pair of long sleek gloves from her hands. Peering into the vanity, she calmly inspected the tiny gossamer-like streaks around her eyes, the gentle lines that framed her thin lips, and the tiniest creases forming across her forehead. She had always been fair skinned and very youthful looking, but this last year’s upheaval had really taken its toll. After fifty-two years, she was beginning to look her age.
She exhaled heavily and shook her head at the reflection in the mirror. Thank God its finally coming to an end. Now if we can all just put this behind us and get on with our lives. The image of Consort Capp loomed before her. She remembered his face the way it looked the last time they had spoken: that terrible scowl; those thick black eyebrows knitted together like two sparring demons.
The last time they had spoken. It had actually been the first time they’d even occupied the same room in many years. Considering the crisis at hand though, there had been no other choice but for both families to hold a meeting. It seemed almost foolish that after so many years it took a disruption like this for them to finally agree on something. The last thing either family wanted was another tabloid melodrama. Were the Capps shaking their heads and wishing things back to normal too? For sure, Consort had plenty of other problems to be worrying over. He’d taken some serious hits in the news recently. She could still recall the latest headline: Capp Fortune Squandered! Full story on page five.
She sighed again as she glanced at the clock. Half past three. The boys would be getting home from school soon. Patrizio would need their help finishing up the day’s pruning on the east embankment before dinner. Isabella had been keeping a close watch on her sons of late. They had always shared the strongest sense of loyalty; but since Romeo’s foolish episode, a gulf had grown between the two. She hadn’t realized how badly the recent circumstances had effected Mercucio until he came home from school one day. He was completely disheveled, with cuts, bruises and torn clothing. Though he had obviously been in a fight, he refused to discuss the details. Since then, his relationship with Romeo hadn’t been the same.
After the family’s decision, Romeo had been moody and morose. For a short time Isabella wondered if maybe they had make a mistake, but lately he seemed to be acting as if nothing had ever happened. He was eating again, whistling in the shower and going out with his friends. But still, she worried. It pained her to think that her son might be secretly devastated, but the more she mulled over it, the more she was sure they had made the right choice.
Romeo was their first born and he was going to need a woman who could support him, bear children, keep a home, and help maintain the integrity of the Monty name for the next generation. No redheaded impetuous brat from across the river could ever possess that kind of commitment. Of course, most girls these days knew nothing about grapes or wine, and it was a bit of a disappointment that Romeo had chosen not to take over the family vineyards.
Mercucio though, had begun taking a greater interest in viticulture and was going much more often to the vineyards with his father. She and Patrizio were secretly relieved. It would be no small consolation if at least one of their boys would carry on the family tradition. The Monty vineyards were legendary. Turning them over to the care of strangers was never an option.
Hermia Capp wandered through the second floor gallery alone. The hostility of the meeting had become so intense that she had quietly slipped out through a side door to escape. The sounds of her grandfather’s restrained voice and the guarded tones of the others still lingered outside the library doors, intermingling like poison before idly floating up the winding stairwell. She moved toward the far end of the hall, away from the voices, pausing before the portrait of a lady.
The hair was modestly sculpted and there was very little color in the cheeks. The lips were pursed purposefully and the young woman’s eyes were aflame with pride. There was the slightest hint of a smile. A diamond necklace lay draped across her sleek white neck. Her whole demeanor suggested a regal, austere confidence. The woman’s face seemed to possess a pervading sense authority and self-control. There was no doubt that this was the legendary Capp Family Matriarch: the woman Hermia had heard so very little about from her parents except that she had been honored, revered, and feared.
The sound of a door slamming echoed from somewhere downstairs and she was startled out of her reverie. Since they’d come to live here, she and her siblings had spent very little time together. It seemed as if a whirlwind of events had been set in motion, from which they were unable to escape. Grandfather seemed to be drinking more frequently than ever now and Tybalt had dropped out of school, spending most of his days and nights downtown. And of course there was Juliet, who had made an even bigger mess of everything with her foolish scheme.
Hermia looked again to the stunning portrait, unable to take her eyes away from the gleaming cluster of diamonds. They lay there, shimmering against her grandmother’s alabaster skin, a sparkling blossom of royalty. Like the beautiful necklace, the Capp Family Honor had rested upon this woman’s shoulders for decades. It seemed that since her death, no one had been strong enough to bear up under its weight. What lay before Hermia was only too obvious. If the Capp family name was ever going to be returned to its former glory, it would be a task for the one truly levelheaded member left…herself.
Text Copyright © 2006 by Peter Alexander Pappas
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