Cousin Laura

Families are not unlike a barnyard flock; there is more often than not a pecking order in the chicken coop.  There does not seem to be a specific moment when you are assigned your place in the hierarchy, but once assigned, t can become permanent.  Among her cousins, Aunt Eleanor did not rank highly in the system of prestige.  She had several strikes against her.  According to her mother, she was not beautiful or vivacious.  Rather, she was too tall and awkward, unsure of herself, and serious.  Her cousins felt sorry for her and therefore that much more secure in their own position in the hierarchy.
    Cousin Laura Delano was a younger sister of Sara Delano, mother of Uncle Franklin.  Laura was a smallperson, witty and acerbic, always ready to gossip.  For a time, she owned a successful women's clothing boutique in New York City.  She wore silks that flowed with her feminine figure and suggested mystique.  Expensive jewlry weighed down her fingers and jangled opulently from her wrists.
    Younger members of the family admired and envied her.  Young wives of the Roosevelt sons vied with one another to become a favorite of Laura, hoping to be remembered in her will.
    It was obvious that Laura felt secure in her empire.  She gave intimate dinner parties for  select groups in the summertime that included her cousin Eleanor and some of Eleanor's guests.  The invitations were always for eight o'clock in the evening, so aunt Eleanor would always serve a substantial tea earlier at four.
    At first I was puzzled by Cousin Laura's attitude toward my aunt.  She seemed unable to let go of the fact that Eleanor had been the first lady of the United States and was now becoming "First Lady of the World."
    I once heard :aura ask her, "Tell me, Eleanor, is Winston Churchill sexy?  Did he wear his jumpsuit in the White House?"  When my aunt hesitated, Laura added, "Oh, come now, you must know."
    Aunt Eleanor simply smiled and said to her hostess, "Laura, I have no idea."
    At another dinner party I attended, Laura, who knew that her cousin seldom touched alcohol, leaned over and poured a generous jigger of sherry in "dear Eleanor's" soup.
    It was then that I suspected Laura felt threatened by a power she could not match.  As a social circumstance, it was only embarrassing and rather sad, but eventually she revealed true malice.  Shortly after Uncle Franklin died, she told Aunt Eleanor that his mistress Lucy Mercer had been among the people with him at Warm Springs when he died.
    I can scarcely imagine the hrt my aunt felt.  I believe she had not known until that moment that he had continued his relationship with Ms. Mercer.  But Aunt Eleanor did not allow this revelation to destroy her.  She simply had too much good work to do.

(photo: Aunt Eleanor and Cousin Laura)