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h-l-v-kennedy-blog · 2 days ago

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Part Two: “A String of Pearls”

pairing: john f. kennedy/oc (sabrina e. overstreet)

word count: 1,937 (I know, I went off with this one)

warnings: none, just a slow-burn romance (its not simmering yet)

summary: 1938, London, Kick, hand-touches and a new friend.

a/n: here's the next part, with some slightly jealous-Jack thrown in there.

One year bled into another, 1936 soon changed to 1938, bringing the Kennedys to the Court of St. James. The Overstreet’s remained across the Atlantic, Sabrina's brother Anthony (better known as simply Tony, two years younger than Sabrina) would join his sister in the world of college academia, starting his freshman term at Stanford in 1938, with a focus on Economics and Finance (having graduated a year earlier from Choate, and yes, the Kennedys and Overstreets had their kids attend similar schools), and Sabrina moved along in her studies at Wellesley, her concentration in Classics and History.

She kept close correspondence with the golden trio (though Joe Jr. seemed at a distance for her, since she found his letters mostly focused on “Dad said this, Dad did that” which cooled her interest in him). But Jack and Kick both were more of their own minds and filled their letters with stories of a gossipier nature (be it who Kick had met in London or who Jack was going out with or what either of them were reading or doing), and until Jack left for England, he visited the Wellesley campus. Although most of the time not explicitly to see her, since he and his Harvard pals frequented almost all the New England girl's college campus’s mainly for dates, going through them at a quick pace. However, sometimes, it seemed his appearance at the Quint was intentional. Though always tethered with an excuse: “I wanted return this book I borrowed” or “Would you come along with the group to the movies?” or “Needed to see that you were behaving like a good Overstreet and keeping up your studies”. Wit covered any sincerity, and charm made it seem less earnest, even if there was an eagerness in his manner. She saw it wasn’t anything unique, for whenever she was out with Jack and his buddies, Ann Cannon, was the object of his attention, and she was but a dance partner for Lem.

Jack arrived in London, in early July (around the 2nd day of the month), to join his family and tag along with his brother Joe and sister Kick in her London debutante season, she had already garnered notice and attention from the British people and press and had friends who would become Jack’s friends. He would stay until the fall semester began and he’d return to Harvard.

A few days after the fact, there was a surprise in store for the golden trio, when one morning over breakfast, Joe Senior declared that joining their family were the Overstreets (who were as they spoke, traversing over the Atlantic to the English port) after Kick had been asking Sabrina for weeks to join her in England and not summer without her (Kick having not known many summers without her best friend), so she brought her father into the plans and convinced James to allow his nineteen-year-old daughter and seventeen-year-old son to cross the Atlantic, which they managed to do. Sabrina and Tony’s mother, Evelyn, would be chaperoning them, and since the Ambassador’s house at 14 Prince’s Gate in Knightsbridge, was big enough, with its six stories and thirty-six rooms, Joe Senior offered the family friends to stay with them for the duration.

On the 7th (after four days of sea faring, as was the norm with ocean liners), the Overstreets would step off the RMS Queen Mary to be greeted by three Kennedys (Joe Jr., Kick and Jack). The trio embracing the Overstreet duo and respectively greeting Mrs. Overstreet.

After settling into her room, Sabrina sat on her bed looking at the very French decor in the guest room meant for her. Rose’s touch, she surmised. The four-poster bed was also quite regal. A bit much, but not tasteless. She flopped onto her back, hands crossing on her stomach as she ran through the experience of the past few days. She was abroad, for the first time, London! And with her favorite people. And Kick promised to take her to every place worth mentioning and to the best parties and dances. Which reminded her of the dresses a maid had hung up for her in the wardrobe. Nothing really new, but her mother had agreed to take her to a dressmaker so she would have fresh gowns made in Europe. She wanted to go everywhere. The dresses really weren’t her priority, but any number of bookstores or historical sights she could see, that...was her dream.

Her reverie came to a close, when the door to the bedroom was swung open and the bed dipped with a happy girly giggle and a proper Bostonian voice spoke. “Sabrina, darling, you can’t lock yourself away when you’ve only just arrived. We need to talk about everything.” Kick really had all the energy and joy in the world, Sabrina determined, and England had brought it out.

“Haven’t your letters covered everything yet?” Sabrina said looking up at the brunette who laid on her bed on her side with that bright Kennedy smile on her face.

“Not even close. So-” And they chattered for what seemed hours. Which it was. Sooner rather than later, Rose came by the open bedroom door to tell the girls to start getting ready for the party they would be attending of some English lord or another.

A maid helped on her blue satin dress with a long-flounced skirt, balloon sleeves and sweetheart neckline, a single string of pearls over her throat. Sabrina’s hair was in simple ringlets framing her face. Her mother only let her wear so much makeup, since there was a line between good and gaudy. But she always veiled such comments with praise for her natural beauty, which Sabrina took in stride.

In the car with her brother Tony, and the trio of Kennedys along with the Ambassador and Rose. Evelyn having stayed behind, blaming a headache. Sabrina looked at the streets lined with oil street lamps as the car whizzed by, the warm glow of the streets contrasting with the darkening sky. She was sat next to Jack (with Kick on his right, and Joe Jr. riding with their parents in a separate car), holding the window seat and her right-hand fidgeting with the satin of her skirt.

“Are you nervous?” His voice was closer to her than she had expected, breath warm on her skin as she turned her head. Jack’s question came in earnest, she could read it from the slight raise in his brow. And his tone wasn’t reaching for witticisms, either. He actually wanted to know.

“Um...a bit, yes.” She said, matching the volume his voice.

“Why? Don’t tell me you don’t think you’re not good enough to be in the company of Brits?”

Her hand had stopped fidgeting, and her head bobbed a bit, avoiding his eyes.

“Why?” He repeated the question.

“Well, I... I guess because I’m just...I know I’m from privilege like time, but I’m not the child of an appointed diplomat or lord. My father’s a businessman in New York, a very successful one. But...what if...” What if they don’t accept me?

She knew Jack would get the unsaid that lingered in the air. “You are better than them. And you will fit in. You’re studying the Classics for God’s sake, if that doesn’t turn some British heads then I’m not Jack Kennedy!” His voice raised a bit with a comforting smile, that caught Kick’s attention as she had turned to listen in to their conversation. “And you’re reserved and that humor of yours which is like that old Brit fashion. Don’t worry, Kick and I will make sure you have friends.” With a good-natured gesture, his hand passed over hers for a beat, giving it a squeeze before letting go, a bit hurriedly, almost like his mind had caught up with his action a moment too late. “And I’m sure Joe will save a dance or two for you.” Now, he was back in his joking mood, teasing with a mirthful smirk. “Maybe I will, too.”

Sabrina didn’t expect he’d keep his word, but Joe did give her a few passing glances and they talked before a colorful skirt passed by that was undoubtably more to his taste (she had long given up that he would take up interest in her other than seeing as his sister’s best friend, even if the Ambassador had made a few comments yet again at how handsome they looked together). So, in a candlelit ballroom, with people, young and old, bustling around her, some dancing, some talking and quite a few drinking; she felt alone. She had a glass of punch in her hand, as she saw Joe cut into a dancing couple to take the young woman for a twirl. Jack was in group, some his age and a few older, a charming smile on his face as his mouth moved, Kick was also contributing to the conversation, whatever the topic was. Was it terrible of her to be homesick, and tired of being on her own with people she mostly didn’t know, aside from perfunctory introductions? She wasn’t sure. But she did feel lonesome.

Almost as if someone had read her mind a voice spoke up at her side.

“Sans company, miss?” A British, posh London accent brought her unfocused gaze into focus. A young man, with brown hair, dark eyes and a long nose, in a white tie tux, looked at her.

“Sans is the right word.” She chuckled at the Latin word sans, meaning without. She took a sip to hide her surprise that someone would come up to her. “I don’t have many friends here.”

“I saw you come with the Ambassador and his family, so I doubt that, miss. And I’ll be your friend, if you want.” He spoke. “David Ormsby-Gore, second son of Lord Harlech.” Offering a gloved hand, which Sabrina took and he pressed a kiss to the top of her hand while Sabrina looked at him with an amused brow. “You’re an American, yes?”

“Was the title necessary?” She chuckled and her hand returning to her side as she set her drink on a passing tray. “And yes. I’m Sabrina Overstreet, only daughter of James Overstreet of “McIver Enterprises”.”

“Ah, a man of industry?” He spoke.

“You could say that.”

“And your relation to the Ambassador and his family?”

“Old friends. My brother and I grew up with their children.”

“Quite old friends indeed, though I wouldn’t think you quite old, yet.” There was that British humor. Cheeky.

She smiled. “No, indeed, I’ll be twenty in November, born 1918.”

“Well, we already have one thing in common, I’m also born that year, in May.”

“A fine month.” And they both laughed at that.

All the while, someone else had noticed their little interaction and disembarked from his own conversation.

“Well, aren’t you good, Sabrina? Making friends on your own.” That teasing and so Kennedy of a tone made her turn her eyes from the Englishman to the American. She didn’t hold back her own mirthful look as if to say: "I can manage even after you abandoned me to be on my own."

“Yes, Jack, I am.”

“Taking good care of her, Ormsby-Gore?” Jack turned to David, with an unreadable and unfamiliar look. David didn’t seem to be bothered.

“I am managing, Kennedy. I was about to ask her for a dance-”

“Well, why don’t I do that for you.” He interrupted him. There was almost a competitive lilt in his tone before he looked back at Sabrina and offered her his hand. “Shall we, Sabrina?”

So, with an apologetic look to David, she let Jack whisk her away into a foxtrot step. She didn’t remember the last time they had danced together (for on group dates, the date was almost always over before he got to her). But she decided to enjoy the attention of at least one Kennedy that evening.

///

Back to Part One or Part Three (coming soon)

///

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