Chapter 19 The Miracle of La Mariposa
Chapter19 The Miracle of La Mariposa
The Mother of the Bride
It was golden hour in Montecito, that moment between day and night when the sun turned from hot to warm, the sky turned from blue to pink, and the locals turned from iced tea to cocktails. In other words, the perfect time to arrive at the iron gates of La Mariposa, the estate of Toots and (the late) Bix Bixby. It was a showstopper, a Spanish Colonial Revival home designed by noted California architect George Washington Smith, surrounded by lush grounds that included world-class gardens, a pool and a pavilion, and a tennis court where Pete Sampras used to train on occasion. When Bix acquired the house in the eighties, it needed TLC and an infusion of cash that dwarfed the closing price. Toots took on the TLC piece and Bix wrote the checks. Her decorating style was an eclectic take on “more is more.” There was no pattern that Toots couldn’t mix with animal prints. Wallpaper ruled. The good antiques mingled with modest pieces from Crate Toots and Bix encouraged generosity in terms of donations. The nonprofit community was eternally grateful to the Bixbys for their leadership.
But when Bix died, the magic of the house died with him. Toots maintained the property and entertained family and friends,
but the public largesse ended. It wasn’t that she grew stingy, but she never quite recovered from losing the love of her life.
She had waited fifty years to find a man who made her feel the way Bix made her feel: cherished, respected, and loved. She
had always been reserved, on the edge of the party, but he brought her right into the middle of everything for the twenty
years they had together. Without him, she returned to observing over partaking. But tonight, it would be a small group, the
Merry Widows and the Blakemans, mingling for the first time, and Toots was determined to rise to the occasion.
Alexa and Ming had filled Abigail and Sarah in on the backstory on the way over, driven by Ricky. Alexa had positioned herself
in the front seat, so that she could turn to see Abigail’s face when the splendor of La Mariposa revealed itself. Now Alexa
witnessed the stunned look on the visitor’s face and was satisfied. She wouldn’t trust anyone who was blasé about seeing this
estate for the first time. She thought about what Lord Simon Fox, no stranger to grand houses, had said about Abigail and
her gardening prowess. So it was no surprise, as the car slowly rounded a sharp corner and the house and lavender gardens
came into view, that Abigail gasped.
“This is extraordinary,” she said. “Stunning.”
***
The rest of the Merry Widows welcomed Abigail like a long-lost friend and Sarah like their own daughter. Alexa was touched, and she rarely felt touched. She had expected a more standoffish greeting, possibly on the side of cold and suspicious after the Widows had heard about Chase’s plans to force Penny to move to Queens. Frannie, who couldn’t hear well and assumed no one else could either, was always loud, a trait most people mistook for boisterous and friendly. The volume of her greeting startled Abigail. And that got a big laugh out of all the women.
After that, Toots, Roxanne, and Mitsy went out of their way to be convivial, maybe to coax more information out of the visitor
when her guard was down. Regardless of the reason, the women circled Abigail with good cheer and another beautiful gift basket
filled with Montecito products that she’d never be able to shove in her carry-on. Alexa made a mental note to offer to mail
them when they got in the car to go home.
“I can’t seem to stop gaping at your beautiful house and gardens,” Abigail said, accepting a glass of white wine from Mignette,
the server for the evening, who lived on the property and acted as a server/chauffeur/meal-delivery service. On nights when
the private chef was off, it was always takeaway from Tre Lune. Tonight’s menu was a selection of coastal seafood, the special
house salad, and the special house pasta. The usual for Toots. Abigail accepted a skewer of grilled scallops and exclaimed,
“These look amazing!”
“Sarah, have you been enjoying your stay?” Roxanne asked, eschewing the skewers like she did almost every other morsel of
food offered in her direction. She was determined to not slide soft and paunchy into life post-sixty and post-spouse.
“I would say so. Tell them about Lloyd, Sarah!” Ming interjected with such enthusiasm that Alexa cringed a bit. She waited
to see if she would have to rescue Sarah, but she handled the query like a pro, used to communicating with parents from her
coaching duties. She filled in the Widows about Lloyd, much to their delight.
Alexa was relieved. There was no judgment, only joy at the story of the scientist and the field hockey coach and their “immediate and epic” connection. Abigail, who Alexa suspected liked to keep the family’s private life private, seemed to be enjoying the interaction, which pleased Alexa. She wondered if Abigail had a circle of friends like the Widows. She hadn’t seen any evidence at the engagement party, only clusters of two or three women together. Maybe the female camaraderie was what Abigail needed more than anything. She was more relaxed now than Alexa had seen her in their short acquaintance.
And Ming seemed to be enjoying her status as Sarah’s confidant. “He runs a lab at UCSB. Works on diabetes research. I’m going
to do some follow-up,” Ming announced, then seeing Abigail’s questioning face, she explained. “We have an informal investment
club. We love biotech. I want to see if there are investment opportunities there, that’s all. He seemed like a fine young
man.”
The whole crew laughed. And then filed away the information because Ming had made them all a few bucks in the past with her
tips.
After a round of refills, they settled into their chairs on the courtyard patio that overlooked the pool, surrounded by more
lavender and olive trees, a view no one ever tired of. Toots, who looked festive that evening in a kelly-green beaded caftan,
patted Abigail’s hand. “If you have time, you must come back one morning for a proper tour of the gardens. I understand you’re
quite the gardener. Mornings are perfect for a stroll.” And then she looked straight at Alexa. “I know, gardens aren’t your
thing. You can take a swim in the pool while Abigail and I wander.”
“We may have another whole round of venue visits,” Alexa said, and then went on to describe the disappointing day while the
Widows expressed sympathy.
It was Mitsy who spoke up first, as she often did, confident that her opinion was the correct opinion. “We can’t let our Penny get married in that women’s club. She deserves so much better. Remember that rainy day in London when she managed to get us into tea at the Goring and then have Tina Brown join us to dish about Diana? All at the last minute? We owe her.” Mitsy was a royals enthusiast. She was drawn to anyone in a crown and had run into Montecito’s own British royalty at Lost Horizon Bookstore one afternoon. The encounter gave her dinner party material for a year. Alexa didn’t have the heart to add there was a substantial tip to the staff at the Goring and the promise of a beach rental in Montecito for Ms. Brown for an hour of her time. It had been a highlight of the trip, and the Widows assumed Penny had created the moment out of thin air and magic.
“Or the time in Pompeii when she secured that handsome Italian archaeologist to tour us around and then he insisted we go
to dinner at his grandmother’s house afterward? Wasn’t that the most charming evening?” Roxanne added. The others nodded,
amused. No one had the audacity to remind Roxanne that it was only she who had enjoyed the archaeologist’s private attention
that night. They were a loyal bunch.
“Well, nothing was more Penny than the summer she lived with me. I never would have made it through that first year after
Bix’s death without her,” Toots said with tears in her eyes. Toots was big fun until she was big sad. She could pull off both
moods with authenticity. The group fell silent. But then Toots brightened. “What am I thinking? Penny must have her wedding
here! Of course!”
Sarah jumped up out of her seat and made a whooping noise. Abigail pulled her down, waiting for Alexa’s reaction.
“Oh, Toots. It’s over the holidays. We couldn’t put you out like that,” Alexa said automatically, although one tiny piece
of her was sure that they could put her out like that, even over the holidays. La Mariposa was the answer to her prayers.
A minute ago, the idea had never occurred to her. But now that the words had been spoken out loud, Alexa needed it to happen.
This was a special, private spot with an authentic connection to Penny and her life here. It was grand but intimate and personal.
Toots’s house made the estate of the former Baywatch star look like a tricked-out toolshed. Penny would be thrilled to become Mrs.Chase Blakeman in this historic home. Alexa
felt like a maker of dreams.
“You wouldn’t be putting me out. I’m here all alone! The children go to Sun Valley for Christmas and New Year’s. They only come here in the summer now. Or when I’m out of town with you all,” Toots explained, mainly to Abigail. The rest of the Merry Widows knew that Toots had never had children herself, but she had stayed close to her stepdaughters and their families since her husband’s death. That said, the relationship had changed over the years to one of preference over obligation, with visits at off times of the year, not the major holidays. They still had their biological mother, with whom they were close, and the casual relationship served both sides. And, in this case, it served Alexa and Penny, as the house would be open over New Year’s.
“It’s me and Mignette rattling around this place at the holidays. I would be honored if Penny and Chase were married here.
You know the pavilion easily seats a hundred. Maybe a few less with a setup for the ceremony. You could tent the patio for
the dance floor. We’ve done that lots of time in the past. How about the stage we put up for the opera gala? A night of Puccini.
Magical. There’s a catering kitchen out there that we used last Thanksgiving for a big dinner, so everything still works.
And hookups for Star Waggons. We even have tables and chairs stored away, though they haven’t been used in years. You’ll need
a valet, but they can park cars on the tennis court. And my assistant Delilah can help with any detail management vis-à-vis
La Mariposa. And, Abigail, I’d be pleased to offer the main house to you and your family for your stay. I’ll move to the guesthouse
for the week. Or maybe a hotel. Definitely a hotel. That sounds fun!”
The rest of the Merry Widows started to buzz, as if Toots’s gesture had awoken them from their slumber. This mighty crew of women had years of expertise in throwing events, large and small, festive and fancy. They had chaired fundraisers and hosted lavish holiday get-togethers. They had raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for their charities of choice and donated time, talents, even the dated clothes out of their closets to others. Furthermore, they had planned their own daughters’ weddings and been to dozens of others. Alexa had been too busy organizing their vacations to learn how to give her expertise away for free as a volunteer. They couldn’t let Toots be the only one to rally. They were the people they were waiting for.
It was Mitsy who got the ball rolling, regretting that she hadn’t taken a leadership role. She was Toots’s best friend, but
she didn’t like to feel inferior in the generosity department. “Now that the location is settled, the Widows have so much
more to contribute,” she announced in her imperious voice. “All the flowers could come from our gardens. Winter roses, lavender,
olive, rosemary, dried hydrangeas. The blue ones to go with the theme. It could be stunning!” Mitsy was usually too reserved
to be excited, but her sense of noblesse oblige won out. Flowers for the people. “I’m not going anywhere for the holidays.
My daughters informed me they wanted to take their families to Mexico and made it very clear they didn’t want me to tag along,
as if I would. And my former daughter-in-law Helen will be in New York City. My grandson Aiden is there, and he’s in some
sort of off-Broadway production of A Christmas Carol , which is so dreary,” she said, clearly as an excuse to not fly across the country. “Travel over the holidays is for people
who can’t go in February. I’d be honored to supervise the cutting and gathering from my friends’ gardens, if you hire someone
to do the arranging. And all the work on the wedding weekend.”
“My niece and her husband own that winery in Paso Robles. It’s a fairly decent wine,” Frannie shouted. “I’m sure I can get
them a deal!”
“I’m happy to offer up my cottage for any overflow guests. I think staying in a hotel sounds fun. What a treat,” Roxanne offered. Her “cottage” near the beach slept ten and was walking distance to the rehearsal dinner venue. Immediately, Alexa thought of her own family, the ones Penny was sure wouldn’t want to travel from Greece, but the ones Alexa was pretty sure would. Roxanne’s place was perfect.
“And I may regret this if the invitation list grows, but I have lovely handwriting. I can address the invitations. Provided
I’m given enough advance notice,” Ming announced in a tone that suggested this was a gift of tremendous value, that of her
own personal time.
“Oh, all of you. You’re too much.” Alexa was overwhelmed by the offers. She thought of the decade of friendship with these
women, how they had grown to admire and trust each other over the years. Six women who’d made their own choices in life. Their
friendship had been a gift to Alexa, an anchor in a town where most people thought of her as hired help. And clearly, it had
been a gift to them, too. “I can’t answer for Penny, but I can’t imagine why she would say no. This is an extraordinary gesture.
Abigail, do you think Chase would like to get married here? Your thoughts?”
Abigail could barely speak. She had come to Montecito with a terrible attitude, and at every turn she’d been won over by the
light, the sun, the landscape, and the people. And by the stunning sensation that she had won. Won! Sure, they’d have to pay
for the tented dance floor, but their accommodations would be free! She could even forgive George his errant promise if this
worked out. Her mind immediately went to the midnight-blue chiffon dress with the crystal embellishments she’d had her eye
on at the resale store in Connecticut. She should have bought it when she had the chance, but she hesitated and it was gone
when she went back for it. Damn. It would have looked perfect in this elegant home.
And imagine the photos and the write-up in Aunt B’s column! Her son, the future congressman, being married to his lovely and accomplished wife at a storied California home to the daughter of a successful businesswoman and, quite possibly, a British lord. With the mayor of New York officiating! It would be the talk of Fair Harbor and beyond. Her former friends, the ones who had dropped her when she could no longer afford the birthday dinners and charity donations, would be sorry they weren’t on the invitation list. She knew that was petty, but she couldn’t help it. “I can’t imagine a more perfect setting!”
“Yes!” Sarah jumped up again, this time to the delight of her mother. “A wedding at a house called The Butterfly. Think of
the logo! You ladies are very cool. Teamwork makes the dream work.” Usually, Sarah’s coach-y slogans were conversation enders,
but this time she nailed it, thought Abigail.
The rest of the Widows clapped. Toots told Mignette to bring the Veuve. And Alexa and Abigail embraced like they’d achieved
world peace.
***
After the team had been toasted, the champagne downed, and so much ad hoc party planning had happened that Ming, with the
excellent penmanship, took notes, Alexa’s phone rang. The screen flashed her daughter’s photo. “It’s Penny on FaceTime. Let’s
tell her about the miracle!”
She hit the button to accept and then turned the phone around to bear witness to the group of women who were planning Penny’s
wedding like it was an Amish barn raising. (If said barn was worth three thousand dollars a square foot and featured a tiled
pool from the 1920s.) “Look who’s here! We have exciting news.”
The Widows waved, Abigail blew a kiss, and Sarah found another excuse to jump up off the couch. It seemed like all seven women
began to talk at once. The decibel-level alert went off on Alexa’s watch.
But Penny didn’t reciprocate with enthusiasm. Instead, her voice was sharp, not sunny. “Mom, turn the phone around. Please.
Mom? Turn the phone around.”
Alexa felt a lightness of being from all the good energy in the room and it took her a second to hear the distress in her daughter’s voice. Finally, she did as she was told. That’s when she saw Penny for real. She looked devastated. “What’s the matter? Are you crying?”
Penny was crying. “It’s off, Mom. The wedding’s off. And it’s all my fault. And yours.”