Chapter 15
“Good gracious, is that you, Lizzie?” Bea exclaimed as I joined the others in the sunroom at Evalyn’s. “Why, you’ve changed into a butterfly!”
Bea sat in a circle beside Evalyn and Alice Roosevelt Longworth and several others, who all sorted through a pile of invitations for one of Evalyn’s charities.
After the unexpected afternoon with Rosalee, I’d made my way to Friendship, as I’d promised, to help stuff envelopes, and though I’d prefer to be doing nearly anything else, I couldn’t say no.
By the looks of things, they’d been at it a while already.
I’d taken my time at Rosalee’s, enjoying myself more than I had in a very long time, completely surprised by how much I liked her.
“Shocking, isn’t it?” Evalyn cooed. “Lizzie is positively adorable.”
“And her hair!” Bea continued.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a seat in an empty chair. Given Bea’s response to my appearance, I must have looked like a troll before the makeover Evalyn had given me.
They continued to talk about me as if I weren’t in the room, my new wardrobe, which colors complemented my skin, and the similarities in my facial features to Evalyn’s.
All the while, I perched on the edge of my chair awkwardly, attempting to look as if I felt at home among them.
I hated to admit I felt a sort of pride in being allowed to be a part of their circle, and I found myself wanting to please Evalyn.
I sneaked glances at her, studying the way she held her glass, the way her head tilted when she laughed, the phrases she used in conversation to be polite.
Her manners were practiced, learned many years ago as a young girl when her world had shifted from being the daughter of a working-class Irish immigrant to the exalted position of one of the most successful gold miners in history.
I noticed Carrie wasn’t among the crowd and felt a wave of disappointment. I’d hoped to talk to her about Julien.
“Are you going to Gwen’s luncheon on Friday?” Bea said as she licked an envelope and sealed it closed.
I hadn’t been invited, nor did I expect to be, but I didn’t want to look left out so I tilted my head the same way I’d seen Evalyn do as if assessing whether the question warranted attention. “I wish I could, but I have several client meetings that day.”
“That’s a shame,” Bea replied.
Evalyn reached for a stack of envelopes and handed them to me. “Well, I can’t imagine why Gwen would invite Lizzie anyway, given the way Gwen had spoken to her.”
I looked down to hide the surprise I knew must show on my face.
Was the slight aimed at me or Gwen? Both perhaps.
Gwen had mocked my appearance and the fact that I was “the help,” something Evalyn clearly alluded to, but she also hinted at the fact that I would never be accepted among them.
Her double-edged comments still took me off guard, and I didn’t know when I’d grow accustomed to having a “friend” who spoke to me that way, but some instinct told me I should never show my unease.
“It’s all right,” I replied. “I don’t have time for someone who is jealous of my clothing anyway. ”
Evalyn responded with a sharp smile. Several of the others giggled. Bea winked.
I’d chosen correctly—deftly hitting back at Gwen behind her back.
It seemed this was the constant dance in Evalyn’s circle, to be overtly generous and follow it with a series of clever, if sometimes hurtful, rebukes.
It didn’t matter that Gwen would never be jealous of my clothes.
All that mattered was I’d taken part in their game of cat and mouse, tit for tat.
In that moment, I was as proud of my quick tongue as I was vaguely sick to my stomach.
The faint sounds of a baby crying interrupted our conversation.
“How is little Eddie?” Alice asked. “He’s such a beautiful baby, Evie.”
“Can you believe he’s a year old already?” Evalyn said.
The nanny popped into the room. “Mrs. McLean, Eddie is up from his nap. I’d like to take the children outside for some fresh air.”
“Of course. And see that Vinnie doesn’t ruin his shoes again.” To us, she said, “That child is somehow always in the mud.”
It was easy to forget Evalyn was the mother of three boys: a one-year-old, three-year-old John, and Vinnie at nine.
She didn’t spend much time with them. It seemed that children, for the wealthy set, were another possession to be owned and enjoyed from a relative distance, or when there was time.
Though it looked to me as if they had all the time in the world, they’d say otherwise as they filled their days with parties and luncheons and charity events.
A maid rolled a cart of refreshments into the room, and within moments, she’d poured mint juleps for each of us, despite the early hour.
I didn’t care for the sickly sweet, thick drink, but I gulped mine down to ease the nerves.
Regardless of how much time I’d spent in the company of these women, I couldn’t seem to relax.
Soon after I’d finished, another round was poured.
I demurred initially, only to give in to Evalyn’s persuasive plea I should keep pace with the others.
Jerry reappeared briefly to announce another guest.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Carrie whisked into the room, fluffing her already perfect red hair.
I stiffened at the sight of her. I studied her as she chose a seat and began talking animatedly with the woman next to her. I longed to speak to her alone, to ask her about Julien. When she caught me staring, I tore my gaze away, managing to exchange a few pleasantries with the fascinating Alice.
“Washington really is so boring,” Evalyn complained. “If we didn’t have our parties, what would we possibly do?”
“Move to Paris,” Alice replied.
“Or Rome,” Sharon added.
Carrie reached for a mint julep. “I’d move to New York City.”
“Precisely!” Evalyn said. “Anywhere but here.”
“It’s a good thing you’re here for us, Evie,” Alice said. “We’d be lost without you.”
“And we’d be lost without your commentary,” she replied.
Alice winked and slugged the rest of her second mint julep.
A raucous sound came from the hall, and the children crashed through the door chasing their dog, Mike the Great Dane, their nanny hot on their heels. By the looks of it, several of the neighborhood boys had joined in the fun. And none had decided to remain outdoors as the nanny had planned.
A burst of laughter erupted from my lips. The others laughed, too, Evalyn included.
“Stop running in the house!” the nanny called. “Go outside!”
They all ignored the nanny. Vinnie continued to chase his little brother, John, hands outstretched like he would tickle him should he catch him. John giggled as his chubby legs moved surprisingly fast around the edges of the furniture. The other boys ran after the dog.
I couldn’t help but delight in the juxtaposition of perfectly coiffed and refined ladies in the midst of all things proper and the raucous children and dog romping through the room.
“Children, give your mother a kiss,” Evalyn called to them, but they zoomed past her.
After she called to them a second and third time, they circled back to their mother, Vinnie planting a hurried peck on her cheek and three-year-old John copying his brother’s every action.
“When are we going to the park, Mom?” Vinnie said, grabbing Evalyn’s hands, pulling her up from her chair, and spinning her around in a circle.
Evalyn laughed delightedly. “Another day, sweetie. Nanny is going to see to your dinner and baths tonight.”
I felt a pang of regret that came from wishing for one’s mother.
I’d never known mine, never had her spin me around or soothe my fears.
I’d pictured her a thousand times; I was her duplicate with dark hair and dark eyes and a lean and tall build.
Father had always said she looked like me, but her temperament was just as Julien’s had been: vivacious, charming, full of life and laughter.
I ached at the loss of having never known her—and at losing the only other person like her.
My chest tightened as Evie patted the children on the head and shooed them away.
“Your children are darling, but I’ve never wanted any of my own,” Carrie said. “My husband disagrees, of course.”
“I’m sure he does,” Bea said under her breath, helping herself to a third mint julep.
I wondered what that meant, so I shot Bea a questioning look.
She winked, and while the others kept prattling on, she leaned toward me and lowered her voice.
“Every man who crosses Carrie’s path falls in love with her.
And my, is she a flirt in return. Her husband, Jet, probably wants to have babies to lock her down indefinitely. He seems the type.”
I regarded the mirth in her eyes after imparting a morsel of gossip, and I realized she might be the perfect person to ask about Julien and Carrie. “Do you think…was my brother one of those men?”
Her smile wavered. “Oh, I doubt it. Your brother flirted with all of us. He was such a charmer. And he spent most of his time in the study or playing billiards with Ned and the husbands.”
I watched her face carefully, noting the quick slip of her smile for a fraction of a second.
Was she surprised by my question, or was she hiding something?
I decided it best to continue with her line of thinking, see if she’d reveal anything more.
“He was a flirt, that’s for sure, and amiable in general.
I’m not at all surprised he enjoyed his time with the husbands.
In fact, I heard he was in the process of working on some business venture…
” I let my words trail off in hopes Bea may fill the silence.
She shifted her attention abruptly and held up her glass. “These drinks are sweet as candy, Evie,” she called. “Where are you hiding the vodka?”
Whether Bea was avoiding the topic or simply done with it, I sensed I shouldn’t broach it again, at least for now.