Chapter 12
12
T he art of making good champagne punch is a necessity for any belle. At bridal showers the punch must be a disarming shade of pink.
“Men are idiots,” Lennon declared after Carlisle had told her story. “Take Gabe, he's pretty enlightened. He does housework, he understands about why I might want to wait to have kids or maybe not have them. But when he's injured, oh my god , I would rather deal with a Grizzly bear.”
“Yeah, ouch,” Carlisle said. She would not have expected that from Gabe.
Emma Kate chimed in. “Keith is actually really great about it. But what do I know? Because he's the veterinarian, and I do decor, so he just brushes me off and takes care of it himself. So maybe he's an asshole when he's injured, but he's an asshole to his own self.”
Carlisle laughed, feeling a little better. They sat on one of the patio tables at the club under the new awning. It was built out in cedar shakes, white posts, and black trim on the railing because the club would have nothing less than something classic. Harper Rose was hosting this get-together for Lennon’s upcoming wedding.
For her part, Lennon had allowed it. She showed up in a short blue dress with cap sleeves and even heels. Carlisle and Emma Kate had not joined in on ribbing the bride for not wearing sneakers. As Emma Kate was fond of saying Don't get mad at someone for trying something new .
She would know. Carlisle tried to count the number of times she'd listened to the previous generation and even her grandparents shake their head over Emma Kate and what that girl was doing . She’d changed her major five times, dropping out of college or transferring schools each time. She’d driven herself across the country and even managed to get herself hitched to a man she didn't know in Vegas. She had caused no shortage of conniptions , as the elders like to call it. But here she was.
Carlisle realized that she'd never asked, but there was every possibility that if she became a millionaire from Carlisle's Kit, that she wouldn't even be the second millionaire in the family. Because Emma Kate had finally found her stride and she was knocking it out of the fucking park.
While Carlisle had been rolling along just fine—happy, proud, she’d bought her own home—Emma Kate had struggled. Then Carlisle had earned new certifications and raises at work and had made her mama proud. Then she’d been knocked back flat onto her ass and literally underwater. Now things were reversed, and she hoped she’d been nice to her cousin about all the missteps.
But today was not the day for such things. She’d greeted Lennon with a hug and told her she looked lovely. Then she’d said, “I love your shoes, and I'm willing to bet good money that they're crazy comfortable.”
Lennon had grinned and eventually given up the brand. Carlisle made note .
Gathering around the table, they finally took their seats. Carlisle was just along for the ride. The guest list was all the Mayfair women of her generation, which Lennon had approved. She had a few friends from high school that she would go see later, but they didn't really fit into this crowd.
Carlisle figured Lennon and herself only really fit in themselves because they were family. Emma Kate and Bailey Ann and Harper Rose? They were made for champagne punch lunches and bridal showers. Emma Kate had decorated their corner of the patio. Bailey Ann had set the menu, and Harper Rose was running the festivities. The three Mayfair sisters knew what they were doing.
There would be a family dinner later, with all the brothers and cousins, all the aunts and uncles, and Carlisle was glad that was tomorrow night. Though she’d been a social butterfly before, she now found she needed more time to recharge, even after just being with her family.
Leaning in close, Lennon asked, “Is Charlie back yet?”
Carlisle shook her head. “They kept him overseas for a while, monitoring him or something.” She watched as Lennon's eyes grew wide.
Bailey Ann and Harper Rose had been trained not to speak of such things, but Lennon was more willing to break convention. Hell, when her Daddy had married aunt GiGi, it was the first interracial marriage in their otherwise strict southern family. Jax and Lennon were half Black. God Bless Uncle Dex for letting nothing stop him from marrying the woman he loved.
Carlisle was beginning to wonder if she would ever have that. Lennon had found it at least. Carlisle tried to concentrate as the rest of the table slowly rolled into the conversation.
“He's a photographer,” Emma Kate pointed out. “Was he injured?”
“Apparently not physically,” Carlisle said, and it was about all she was comfortable saying. Even she didn't know enough to do more than speculate. She did add, “He was embedded with the military there.”
As if that might say enough. It was a true statement that said nothing about her brother. It revealed no secrets, not that she knew any anyway. He wouldn’t want the gossip. Still, she watched as her cousins’ faces imagined what must have happened. He was getting shipped back, they would learn more when he arrived.
The table stayed quiet and solemn for a moment and Carlisle wondered if they’d finally found a topic that none of these belles knew how to handle. Or maybe it was actually a moment of silence for her brother. Her twin, “award winning photojournalist Charlton Weaver” was getting shipped home. Something she wasn't quite sure she could deal with.
But the upside of the art of the Southern Belle was that there was always something to say, something to make people feel better when they needed it. Bailey Ann and Harper Rose were no exception. The sisters turned on her, lightening the mood.
“So how is Carlisle's Kit coming?”
She felt it. Oh damn, it felt good to feel it!
The question sparked something, and she was even excited that she was excited about it. She hadn't been, not for a while. “The prototype is done. Jane and I held one in our hands the other night. It’s pretty much exactly as the first round is going to be.”
“First round?” Harper Rose leaned over, eyes wide.
While Carlisle knew the sisters could fake a conversation to make someone feel good, even if they hated them, she knew the difference and it felt so wonderful suddenly, to have her cousin so genuinely interested and excited for her. “If it needs improvements, there may be a newer version next year but that depends on it selling.”
“Oh, it's going to sell,” Bailey Ann declared .
Lennon leaned forward. “I’m going to present at no fewer than ten conferences next year.” Her doctorate was just finished, and she was making a splash. Carlisle read all of Lennon’s papers even if she didn’t understand all the nuance. She was opening her mouth to congratulate her when Lennon added, “So I’ll be driving everywhere. Obviously, I’ll need one.”
“When do we get ours?” Emma Kate asked.
Carlisle would expect to feel pressured, to balk at the questions, but this was a spark of her old self. She was sure they could see the excitement in her eyes. Did her cousins know how rare that was these days? “The first shipment should be here in about three weeks, and I will not be able to park in my garage anymore.”
“Is Jane keeping some?”
“Yes. We ordered as many as we could afford.” Carlisle held her fingers out, crossed and aimed toward the sky as if that little bit of voodoo might be enough. “Don’t worry, you're all getting one.”
“No ma'am,” Bailey Ann replied as she reached for her champagne glass and lifted it in a toast. “You absolutely will not be giving them to us, because we will all be buying them. We desperately want to be your first customers.”
As lunch was served, and then the table to the side piled with gifts, Carlisle faded a bit. She saw beautiful cream wrapping papers and lovely bows and knew that, though she had desperately tried to keep up, she’d fallen short. But they were all opened, even hers, with surprise as Lennon ooooh’d and ahhhhh’d over each.
Harper Rose kept a list of who provided what so that Lennon could write her thank you notes. And Carlisle watched, holding tightly to the feeling even as her excitement about her own work faded.
These women were her family . She’d been so isolated, so scared of her own shadow that she hadn't even thought to turn to them. But here they were. While the feeling of being her old self for a moment was fading, she thought she could do this. Maybe she was starting to see a way out the other side.
Maybe she could convince Simon to do a little bit more than let her make dinner for him. Maybe she could convince him to let her change the bandage on his wound for once, because he'd done it himself. And she had no idea what was so prickly about the spot on his back.
But there was something about him that made her want to know.