Chapter 15 #2
“Goodness, Bea, is it that time already?” Evalyn replied.
“Of course it is. It’s afternoon. Not that time ever matters when it comes to a good drink.”
Bea winked at me. She wasn’t a drunk exactly, but she flirted with the limits of propriety.
Still, she was the friend of Evalyn’s I liked best. She didn’t put on any pretenses, and she said what she meant, even if what she meant was a little rude.
I supposed Alice was somewhat similar, but I didn’t feel comfortable in her presence.
I wasn’t certain the others did either; the tenor and easy flow of conversation always changed when she joined the party.
Evalyn rang for Jerry, who promptly returned with a brand-new bottle of vodka. Within the hour, Evalyn’s eyes were glazed over with drink, and her cheeks were rosy. “Have you ever been to the races, Lizzie?” she asked, taking a seat beside me on the sofa covered in floral silk.
I frowned. “Are there races in this area?”
“No, silly. The Kentucky Derby.”
I shook my head. “Never.”
“You really must come this year. You can sit in my box and stay with me. The others will come, too. Bea and Carrie, Sharon, and perhaps Gwen and Rita, too. Speaking of Gwen! You handled her nicely.”
The alcohol had loosened my tongue, too, and before I could stop them, the words sprang from my tongue. “Gwen doesn’t like me much.” As soon as I’d said it, I wished I could take it back.
Evalyn’s face positively beamed at my abrupt omission. “Don’t worry about Gwen. She can be a little nasty at times, but she means well. Though…” She shook her head. “I really shouldn’t tell you this.” Evalyn leaned in closer. “Would you like to hear a secret?”
“If it’s private, you don’t have to tell me.”
“You talked me into it,” she said with a laugh. “The rest of us already know, though Gwen doesn’t realize it.”
I thought again of the barbs the women exchanged about each other and those in their extended circles and realized Evalyn wanted me to know, was positively dying to share her gossip, and hoped I’d be dying to gossip, too.
I quickly backtracked, and forcing false eagerness, I said, “I was hoping you’d tell me.”
Her smile widened. “Well! Gwen’s father was a tobacco farmer, and he lost everything in one bad hand of poker. Can you imagine, betting your entire estate on a hand of poker?”
“I can’t imagine betting a single cent of hard-earned money on a game,” I replied. “When my brother and I used to play, we’d play for penny candy from Woolworth’s. Tootsie Rolls and Necco wafers or even Hershey Kisses. But never money.”
“What a sweet memory,” she replied, pursing her lips. She wasn’t pleased I’d interrupted her with an anecdote of my own.
I blushed hotly at the dressed-up rebuke.
“As I was saying, Gwen’s father gambled away every cent he could get his hands on. She and her mother had to scrape by, hiding money from her father all over the house. They even buried some in the garden! Imagine!”
I could imagine it. I’d heard rumors from Julien that Ned was also a serious gambler. Evalyn must struggle with his recklessness, too, which made it all the odder she should condemn Gwen’s family for it. But pointing out her hypocrisy wouldn’t endear me to her.
“That’s horrible!” I mimicked her enthusiasm, despite the dreadful story.
“When Gwen was of the marrying age,” Evalyn continued, “she set her sights set on a wealthy man, and boy, did she get one. She’s married to a banker who owns half the real estate in Maryland and Virginia.”
“How fortunate for her,” I said. “Things worked out for her in the end.”
Evalyn quirked an eyebrow at me. “There was nothing fortunate about it. It was planned. In fact, there’s more.
” She dropped her voice to a near whisper.
“She slept with her husband before she was married and before they were even an item. That was her first mistake. She had no commitment from him. Tom had already started chasing someone else. And that’s when she took matters into her own hands.
” She paused dramatically, clearly waiting for me to beg for more.
I humored her, though I honestly felt compassion for Gwen more than glee at her difficult situation.
She’d struggled through a poor childhood with an unreliable father and then felt she had to sell herself to a willing man so she wouldn’t be destitute.
I couldn’t imagine much worse. “What did Gwen do?”
Evalyn’s eyes gleamed. “She lied, told him she was pregnant with his baby.”
My eyes widened. “And he believed her?”
Evalyn shrugged. “He couldn’t see why she’d lie about such a thing.”
“Did she?” I asked. “Did she lie about it?”
“She confessed the truth to me one night after the others had left and we’d had one too many drinks. Tom had threatened to leave her anyway at first and denied the child was his, but she blackmailed him. He proposed shortly thereafter.”
This time, I really was stunned. “She blackmailed him into marrying her?”
“Can you imagine doing such a thing? But Gwen is ruthless when she wants something. You should see her speak to her staff. She acts as if she wasn’t just like them at one time, scrambling to make ends meet. It’s a good thing you stood up to her the way you did. Now she won’t underestimate you.”
I’d hardly call what I’d said standing up to her.
I’d simply ignored her slights and gone on about my business for the remainder of the time spent in her presence.
I didn’t understand this world of secrets and thinly veiled barbs aimed at so-called friends or joy in another person’s struggle, but I knew one thing was for sure.
I wouldn’t let Gwen Chaney talk to me the way she had again without consequence.
And I clearly needed to watch myself around the others, too, Evalyn included.
As malaise spread through me, I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, wishing I could make my excuses and leave.
But I couldn’t, not now. I’d have to play along until the day’s activities wound down naturally, or I’d appear rude, especially after having left Evalyn’s last gathering early.
At that moment, I looked up to meet Carrie’s eyes.
She was watching me, her lips pressed together, a deep wrinkle prominent on her forehead.
For the first time since I’d met her, I held her gaze boldly until she looked away.
And then I noticed it for the first time.
She wore a small silver pendant shaped like a rose with a single ruby at its center.
A rush of adrenaline surged through my veins.
I’d recognize the pendant anywhere. Julien had made it.
And he’d either sold it to Carrie—or he’d made it for her.
I watched her chatter happily and laugh at Bea’s jokes or Evalyn’s comments until I couldn’t sit still any longer. I had to ask her about the necklace, about my brother.
When there was a break in the conversation, I stood and started toward her.
She caught my eye for the second time and stood, too, announcing to the others, “I’m afraid I need to be on my way.”
“Why, darling?” Evalyn said, sticking out her lip in a put-on pout. “We’re only getting started.”
“I’m meeting with my caterer to discuss the dinner menu for the party next week.”
I watched Carrie curiously as she blew air kisses and made a beeline for the door. Had she been trying to avoid me, or did she truly have an appointment with her caterer? I glanced at Bea and then Evalyn. They weren’t watching Carrie leave. Their eyes were fixed on me.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon flew by as the alcohol haze enveloped us.
My mind was a flurry of questions, and I longed to have Evalyn to myself, to probe for information about Carrie and the pendant.
Fortunately, she asked me to stay for dinner and to keep her company as the others trickled home.
I was beginning to understand she not only liked being the center of the party but also didn’t like to be alone.
“I’m starved,” she said. “Supper must be ready by now. Come on, darling. Let’s eat at the table tonight. I make a frightful mess when I attempt to eat anywhere else.”
The cook served oysters and lump crab cakes, filet of sole with sorrel cream, and a magnificent strawberry and vanilla confection.
I felt guilty at first, leaving Father to his plain chops and potatoes, but he’d lost any real interest in food the day Julien died.
He’d lost interest in everything until very recently.
And only now, away from him day after day, did I realize how his desperate loss had compounded my own.
I’d never felt more alone than I had these past seven months.
But here, at the McLean mansion, at the extravagant parties and on our drives through the city or during the long luncheons and late nights, I felt the blood move through my veins again, heard my own heartbeat in my ears, felt air seep back into my lungs.
I dared not hope before, but now it seemed perhaps there was a future beyond the home that had become a tomb, especially now that my father was back on his feet.
As we finished eating, Evalyn reached for my hands. “Say you’ll stay the night. We’ll tell stories in our pajamas and eat bonbons until we’re sick.”
The thought of sleeping in a luxurious bed at the McLeans’ home as if I were a member of the family gave me a thrill. And yet, I knew I couldn’t possibly leave my father alone. How would I explain should he go looking for me in the middle of the night?
I shook my head. “I really couldn’t leave my father. He’s on the mend, but he’s still not quite himself.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “I’ll send Tillie to the house. She can bring him a covered dish and make sure he’s comfortable for the night.”