Chapter Six #3
“You know very well what’s wrong, Edmund! You know I don’t like crowds, especially a crowd of Ray’s friends. And he’s not exactly in Dad’s good graces right now. Dad would be livid if he knew Ray was back home and having a party. Especially with Minnie roaming around.”
“Well, that is true.” Edmund scratched his head. “But there’s not much we can do about it now. It’s already happening. And wouldn’t it be better if we were both down there keeping an eye on things?”
Kate considered. Perhaps he was right . . . maybe she should be keeping an eye on things, though she doubted anyone would listen to her if things got out of hand, especially Ray.
Edmund stood up. “Come on; we’ll be a team,” he encouraged and held out his hand. It was rough and calloused, so different than the slender white hand Mary had held out. As much as she wanted to take it, she hesitated.
“Come on; we should at least try to find Minnie,” he insisted.
Kate swallowed her fear. “Oh, alright.” She took his hand, and he wrapped it around her small one, as he had done a hundred times before, but this time, as he led her down the stairs, it felt different somehow, like there was a current between them.
Kate wondered if she was the only one who felt it, but when he gently caressed the side of her palm with his thumb, she was sure he felt it too.
Was this what Mary had meant by “unrequited tension”?
But wasn’t the phrase usually “unrequited passion”?
Before she could decide, however, Edmund pulled his hand from hers. They had reached the bottom of the stairs.
Kate stood frozen, horrified by what she saw.
There were people everywhere, none of whom she recognized, all talking and laughing loudly.
In one corner, a group was playing cards on an end table they had moved from its proper place beside the couch.
Plates of food were stacked on any available spot, and several had fallen on the floor, their contents littering the rug.
Bottles of beer and cider were scattered everywhere.
Kate felt the familiar knot of panic in her chest. Ray was sitting on the sofa, several people squished in beside him.
He was holding up a bottle of something, and when he brandished it to fill the glasses of those around him, Kate was horrified to see that it was their father’s special cognac!
He had carried this prized possession home from the war, and it only came out for a wedding or a funeral, the last one being poor Eula’s and Fern’s.
Ray spilled some as he haphazardly poured it into several glasses held up to him.
Kate was about to say something when Ray boomed, “Drink up, everyone! Come on, grab a glass.” Several more people obeyed.
“This is the old man’s crap whiskey. He thinks it’s so great because its French.
Well, fuck him! And fuck the goddamn French!
” He knocked his back without a flinch, as if he were drinking water.
“Come on! Drink, everyone! Here’s another.
” He started sloshing more into glasses.
“Ray! What are you doing!” Kate cried, unable to keep silent any longer. “That’s Dad’s!”
Ray’s eyes immediately darted to her and then to Edmund, still beside her. “Where’ve you two been? Not upstairs alone, were you?” He grinned his sly grin. “Finally decided to stop sulking?” he said to Kate. “Come on, Ed. Have a drink!” Ray poured some whiskey into a spare glass and held it out.
Ed shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, that’s okay, Ray. I’ll just grab a beer.”
“Come on!” Ray slurred. “Can’t even have a drink with me? For old times’ sake? ‘Member when we used to steal bottles of beer after haying and drink them under the wagon?”
“Well, uh . . .” Edmund glanced uneasily at Kate, whose face was rigid. “Nah, that’s okay.”
“Fuck you, then,” Ray slurred. “I’ll drink it myself.”
“Come on, Ray.” Edmund took a step toward him. “Don’t be like that. Okay. Maybe just one. I wouldn’t want to use up all your dad’s special stuff, though.”
“Now, you’re talkin’!” Ray was suddenly jovial. He quickly poured another glassful and handed it to Edmund. “Here’s to the old man.” He briefly held up his own glass. “Bastard,” he said bitterly.
Edmund looked over his shoulder at Kate, who was still standing at the foot of the stairs. She glared at him. Edmund gave her a sheepish look and then downed the cognac.
“Whoo-hoo!” Ray shouted. “Another!” His eyes flashed defiantly at Kate. “What’re you looking at? Why do you always look at me that way?” he snarled. “You want one?” He held up the bottle and laughed. He looked around at the people beside him, and they obliged him with laughs of their own.
Utterly disgusted, Kate slowly shook her head. “I’ve got to go find Minnie,” she muttered.
“Kate, wait! I’ll go, too,” Edmund called. “After this round.”
Kate ignored him and made her way to the kitchen, stepping over several beer bottles littering the floor.
One spot of the rug was wet and stained with something dark.
Rage and fear were bubbling up inside her, not only because of Ray, but because Edmund had so easily abandoned her.
And because it would probably fall to her to clean all of this up before her parents returned.
She pushed through the swinging kitchen door, and though she had braced herself for what she was sure to be a horrible mess, she was still stunned by what she saw.
Louisa and Henry Crawford were kissing passionately! In fact, it was a little more than kissing. Louisa sat on the counter, her dress up and her legs wrapped around Henry as he leaned against her, his face buried in her neck.
Good Lord! Kate quickly retreated, hoping they hadn’t seen her, and, flustered, hurried toward the front door, grabbing her coat off the rack.
The frigid night air hit her like a brick wall, but it was a welcome balm to her hot face. She was sure she was beet red.
She slipped into her coat and peered across the lawn.
Down by the barn, a bonfire was roaring, around which stood another whole group of people!
Mechanically, she moved toward the fire, trying to see if there was anyone she might recognize.
Where was Mary Crawford? Or Nettie? Or Minnie, for that matter?
Kate looked around uneasily. As she drew closer, she scrutinized the faces all aglow.
Finally, she did recognize at least one person—poor Vernon Tierney.
He was laughing and joking with a few other young men.
Kate had never been overly fond of Vernon, thinking him a bit dull and not a little stupid, but she did feel sorry for him now, knowing that Louisa was currently inside with another man.
She stood silently for a few moments, gazing at the flames, before deciding to return to the house.
She would find Minnie, drag her off to bed, and then hide herself away in her room.
She trudged back across the frosty lawn and slipped quietly back into the house—not that there was any need for stealth given the noise of the party—and made her way to the dining room, which was full of people, too.
Who were they all? Kate arched her neck to try to see beyond a group of chatting young women and finally spotted Minnie at the far end of the table, dejectedly playing a game of solitaire.
“Minnie! There you are.” Kate wriggled past the women. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
“No one will play with me!” Minnie complained.
“That’s because this is a grownup party. No one wants to play with a little kid.”
“I’m not a little kid! I’m eleven and a half!”
“That’s still little. Come on, it’s time for bed.”
“Aw! No! I want to stay up! You can’t make me!”
“Remember what Mom said? If you don’t obey, you’ll miss dessert for a whole week. Is that what you want?” Kate frowned at her, her hands on her hips. “Come on, this isn’t any fun anyway. I’m going to bed, too.”
Minnie cocked her head. “Honest?”
“Yes, honestly! Come on. Pick up those cards, and let’s go.”
Minnie begrudgingly swept up the cards and wrapped the loose rubber band around them.
Kate took her by the hand, not wanting to take any chances of losing her again, and led her back toward the front room.
She breathed a sigh of relief that Ray was no longer there.
He must have gone outside or possibly down to the cellar, though God only knew why.
She paused in her escape, however, when her eyes alighted on the group that had remained on the sofa.
One of them was Edmund, with Mary sitting tightly beside him.
Granted, their proximity was likely caused by the people squeezed on either side, but by the look the two of them gave each other, one would never suspect they were in any way discomforted.
Kate watched unobserved. Was it possible that Edmund was forming an .
. . an attachment to Mary Crawford? It seemed ridiculous in the extreme, and yet how else could one explain the overt excitement in his eyes?
She knew she should look away and retreat up the stairs with Minnie, but she could not.
Her world was fracturing for the second time in a week, and she could not make her feet move.
Her misery was abruptly broken by the sound of the front door slamming.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Kate dropped Minnie’s hand. Her father!
Her momentary paralysis broken now, she hurried into the foyer and saw her father standing just inside the door, his hat pushed back to the crown of his head—a sure sign that he was angry—and his hands on his lower back.
Mrs. Kerwyn stepped from behind him, her expression transforming into one of disbelief as she observed the mess.
One of her gloved hands covered her mouth in dismay.
“I said, what the hell is going on here!”
Most of the crowd remained frozen, but others began to scurry.
Louisa, looking somewhat disheveled, hurried in from the kitchen.
Henry Crawford slunk in behind her, wearing an annoying little smirk as he adjusted his emerald bow tie.
He had managed, Kate observed wryly, to likewise pull on his suit coat, as when she had previously seen him in the kitchen making love to Louisa, he had been merely in shirt sleeves.
“Oh, you’re back!” Louisa tried to say gaily, though her shrewd blue eyes were worried.
“Louisa, what’s the meaning of this?”
“Well, it was Ray’s idea, Dad! Just a little party.”
“Ray? What the hell is he doing here?”
“Well, he . . .” Louisa’s voice dropped. “He’s moved back home, I think.”
“Oh no he hasn’t. Ray!” Mr. Kerwyn bellowed.
Several more people scurried away. Kate could hear various cars starting outside.
Ray came swaggering in through the kitchen door with Lee but stopped short when he saw his parents. He was still holding the bottle of French cognac, and rather than try to hide it, he defiantly took a swig.
“Mom, Dad,” he slurred, swaying slightly. “Thought you were in Des Moines. Would have invited you had I known you were in town.” Looking at Lee, he burst into laughter. Lee, however, his face creased with fear, began to back away.
Mr. Kerwyn grabbed the bottle from Ray and, noting that it was almost gone, grabbed Ray by the shirtfront and began to shake him. Ray’s eyes flew open in surprise as he tried to wriggle free.
“Gus!” Mrs. Kerwyn cried. “Gus, don’t!”
Mr. Kerwyn continued to shake Ray. “You good-for-nothing bastard! How dare you!”
Ray pushed his father, and the older man’s grip released. They faced each other, panting.
“You get the hell out of here!” Mr. Kerwyn snarled. “Everyone, get out!” he shouted, and the few stragglers squeezed past him and slipped out the door. “Go on, get out!” Mr. Kerwyn shouted directly at Ray.
“Gus! It’s freezing! Let him at least stay the night,” Mrs. Kerwyn pleaded.
“No. He doesn’t deserve to be called my son,” Mr. Kerwyn said bitterly.
Ray’s face finally contorted into what looked like anger at his father’s disownment. “Okay, then. Fine. Fuck you, Dad.” He stormed past his father. “Come on, Lee.”
Lee hurried from the corner and followed Ray out the front door. Louisa put her hands over her eyes and began to cry.
“Stop your bawling!” Mr. Kerwyn cried. “I’ll deal with you in the morning.”
With a final wail, Louisa roughly pushed past Minnie and Kate and stomped up the stairs.
“Where’s Nettie?” Mr. Kerwyn demanded of Kate.
“I . . . I don’t know, Dad.”
Mr. Kerwyn wiped his brow with a bandana and picked up the bottle of French whiskey Ray had dropped while Mrs. Kerwyn, still in her coat, made her way to the kitchen. Kate winced when she heard the resultant little cry of dismay.
“You go on up, Minnie,” Kate said worriedly. “I’ll go help Mom.”