Chapter Thirty-Six
The event space looked fantastic. The decor was black and gold?—sparkly, but sophisticated. The programs and signage were printed in an art-deco-style font, and the centerpieces on the tables were collections of faux ostrich feathers. The volunteer decoration committee had done a bang-up job, and Eliza was grateful it hadn’t been up to her to figure out how to execute a roaring-twenties theme without it looking completely kitschy.
She walked through the space wearing her trusty Converse, waiting until the last minute to put on her silver heels, checking off items on her clipboard. As she looked around, she felt a swell of pride at seeing how all their hard work had come together. Waitstaff were setting the tables, and Davin was with the tech people, getting the microphones and projectors in order.
In the front room, volunteers under Bridget’s direction were buzzing around the check-in table and the silent-auction display. Propped up on easels were images of beautiful vacation homes in Aspen and Kiawah Island?—a week at each donated by two different board members.
When Eliza and Scott were kids, the Levingers rented a house for a week every summer on Long Beach Island on the New Jersey shore. They always stayed in the same Beach Haven neighborhood, in walking distance to the beach and to the cluster of restaurants, the amusement park, and the mini-golf courses.
Since meeting with Carol, Eliza had been thinking a lot about the past. The good times, before Laura got sick. How she used to ride on Jack’s shoulders everywhere. How they played cutthroat games of gin rummy. And she remembered the silences when her parents weren’t speaking to each other. The time that doors slammed and Jack got into his car and roared away, while she cried and Scott climbed onto a kitchen chair so he could reach the ice cream on the top shelf of the freezer. He served her a huge bowl of mint chocolate chip.
The memories weighed on her, but they were also comforting. For a long time, she’d cast Laura as the heroine and Jack as the villain in their family drama, but it was so much more complicated than that. She was realizing, finally, that recognizing that was a critical part of dealing with all the loss.
Vanessa appeared, wearing a sleek black dress that hugged the curves and angles of her body. “This looks terrific, Eliza. Any problems I should know about?”
Eliza shook her head. “Looks like everything is under control. We lost one volunteer who was supposed to be at check-in, but we should be fine?—I can always jump in if necessary.” She looked down at her clipboard. “Otherwise, I think we’re all good.”
“And I presume you didn’t forget your shoes?” Vanessa looked down at Eliza’s sneakers.
“No?—I’ve got them, don’t worry.”
Vanessa glanced at her watch. “T minus thirty minutes. I’m going to check on the podium and the tech.”
“Great.” Eliza didn’t think it was necessary to mention that she’d just done that and it was all fine. Better for Vanessa to have been the last one to inspect it if something were to go wrong. Instead, she found her bag containing her shoes and slipped them on before heading to the ladies’ room to touch up her makeup. She’d treated herself to another visit with hair magician Daniela, who this time created some waves around her face while the rest of her locks remained sleek and straight.
She’d been surprised that Daniela remembered the story about her father not being her father and the issues with the will. On the other hand, it wasn’t the kind of tale you heard every day. It was painful telling Daniela that Ross didn’t want to have anything to do with her, but she knew she’d be okay with it. She had enough to deal with without worrying about building a relationship with him. Fortunately, in terms of the gala, Vanessa and Patrice had taken over communications with the faculty, and she hadn’t seen him even once. Tonight would be the first time since they’d met at the bar, and she planned to give him a cool nod and move on. Nothing more was needed.
She emerged from the ladies’ room gala-ready. Staff circulated with platters of full champagne flutes, and she was dying to grab one but resisted. Instead, she went over to the check-in table to give another smile to the volunteers. They were going to have a hectic next little bit as people began to arrive, and she wanted to be on hand for any glitches.
Soon enough, people began to wander in. She greeted the bigger donors she recognized until Vanessa appeared and clearly wanted to take over that task. As Eliza hung back, she saw Ross arrive with his colleagues Ian and Barbara. Barbara, whose warmth had made such an impression on her at the meeting at NYU, wore a big smile, clearly delighted to be there. Ross’s own face was much more reserved as his eyes scanned the room. She longed to walk over and coolly offer him her hand in welcome, but as he headed her way, she panicked. Instead, she turned to the nearest person waiting to check in.
“Hi! Welcome. So delighted you could make it.”
The woman smiled back. She looked a little older than Eliza, had brown wavy hair, and was wearing a unique but beautiful orange dress. “Thanks. My boss was supposed to come, but she got sick?—dangers of being around preschoolers I guess?—so I hope it’s okay that I’m using her ticket. I sent an email earlier, but I’m not sure anyone would have seen it. I mean, I’m sure you were busy setting all this up.” She waved her hand around to take in the room.
“Oh, right, I did get your message. Apologies for not getting back to you. I’m Eliza Levinger. Remind me of your name?”
“Callie Dressler. I’m here in place of Judith Preston.”
“Callie, hi! The correction should be made on the guest list, but let’s just double-check.”
In her peripheral vision, she saw Ross take a champagne flute as he joined the line of guests, and she steered Callie to the other end of the table to get her settled in.
The cocktail hour quickly got into full swing, and Eliza worked the room in between fielding questions from coworkers and volunteers. This guest doesn’t have a table assignment?—what do I do? If people want to bid in the silent auction, do they have to put their credit card number into the app or can they pay later? A board member who hadn’t RSVPed necessitated a quick conference with her liaison at the venue, and a squeezed-in place setting was added at one of the tables near the podium. She had just finished resolving that situation when she felt a hand on her shoulder. What now?
But when she turned, it was Josh. She’d almost forgotten he was coming. Or at least that was what she told herself.
“E. You look amazing.” His voice was quiet as his eyes took her in. “Not sure I’ve ever seen you with your hair down.” He was in a dark blue suit, white dress shirt, and no tie. Eliza had never been a big fan of men in suits, but she thought she might have to change her mind.
She touched her hair self-consciously. “Blowouts. They’re my new crack.”
“Well, if crack makes you look that good, it can’t be all bad.”
Eliza smiled and felt her cheeks flush, and she cleared her throat. “I owe you a proper apology. That night at Scott’s?—I was rude.”
“It’s okay. You’ve been going through a lot.”
She looked down at her silver sandals. “Still. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.” Kind. Like a good friend. She raised her eyes again. “So, are you here with people from work?”
He glanced around. “Not sure they’ve made it yet. But I’m sure you have work to do yourself.”
She took in the room; everyone seemed comfortable and taken care of. “No crises right now. Did you see the silent auction? Come look.”
They made their way through the clusters of people. In addition to the vacations, there were spa treatments, autographed sports memorabilia, meals from personal chefs, collections of gift cards, and?—arranged by Mo?—a just-released Swishtech-brand smartwatch.
“Wow?—you must rake it in at this thing,” Josh remarked, peering at the opening bid on a baseball signed by Derek Jeter.
“That’s the goal.” Eliza missed the days when people wrote their bids on clipboards; now it was all done via an app?—which, of course, got a cut of the take.
Josh turned to her. “So, this probably isn’t the place to talk?—but how are you doing?”
Eliza’s eyes darted around to see who was nearby. Ross was at the far side of the room with Vanessa, who appeared to be hanging on his every word. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I’ll take the good news.”
“Carol’s dropping her challenge of the will.”
His face broke into a smile. “E! That’s terrific! How did that happen?”
She gave him the broad brushstrokes of the sit-down they’d had. “I don’t know if it was that she came to her senses or the unlikelihood that she’d win in the end.” She shrugged.
“Probably both. But I’m glad for you. One less headache. But what’s the bad news?”
She glanced at Ross again. “I met with Ross. He doesn’t want to have a relationship with me.” Concern crossed Josh’s face, and she hurried to continue. “But the truth is, that’s okay. Three months ago, I didn’t know he existed. I had a father. And even if things with us weren’t ideal...” She trailed off as her eyes filled. Josh put a hand on her shoulder, and she blinked rapidly. “Don’t be nice to me?—then I really won’t be able to stop myself from crying.”
He removed his hand. “Gotcha. Should I be obnoxious instead?”
She laughed. “I don’t know if that’s necessary. But you could take lessons from Ross in that department. That’s him over there, actually. The guy with the blond hair, next to the woman in the green dress. The other woman, in black, is my boss.” She tilted her head in that direction, and Josh turned.
“Yeah,” he said, swiveling back. “Definitely looks like a creep.”
She laughed again, louder this time, and then saw Amber approaching. She was wearing a flowy maxi dress in rich tones of burgundy and dark green?—so utterly Amber.
“Eliza?—sorry to interrupt, but should we be starting to move people into dinner?” she asked.
Glancing at her watch, she nodded. “Sorry, Josh?—duty calls.”
“No worries. Go do your thing. I’ll find my colleagues. One of them is a Rangers fan?—maybe I can get him to bid on that hockey stick.”
Eliza and Amber corralled Bridget as well and gently began nudging everyone into the banquet room, which was soon filled with the sounds of chairs being moved away from tables and the clatter of butter knives as people immediately fell upon the bread rolls as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Eliza had made sure to have an afternoon snack, since she knew from experience that it was unlikely she’d be able to sit down for her meal.
Vanessa made her way to the podium at the front of the room and, with difficulty, got everyone’s attention. Eliza hovered to the side, awaiting her only speaking role of the evening. She took deep breaths and reminded herself that compared to burying two parents, discovering that her biological father was not the man she always thought he was, and filing legal documents opposing her stepmother, saying some innocuous words to a couple hundred people in various states of inebriation was pretty much a nothingburger.
“Thank you, everyone, for joining us this evening. I feel like it was just yesterday that we were here together last year?—time truly does fly.” Polite laughter met Vanessa’s words as she went on to outline some of NOY’s highlights of the past year. “Later this evening, we’ll have an exciting announcement, and will be hearing from some of the country’s leading education-policy scholars. In the meantime, I’d like to invite our director of development, Eliza Levinger, to say a few words.”
Just don’t trip, she warned herself as she climbed the few steps to the small stage. Vanessa gave her a performative hug, and Eliza took her place at the podium. She looked out over the room and forced a smile. Some faces were turned to her; others were engaged in whispered conversations with neighbors. She knew that as speakers on the program went, she wasn’t one of the most interesting. Betraying her, her eyes skated over to the NYU table. Ross was deeply engaged with his phone. How could he not even look up at her? She swallowed and wished there were a glass of water nearby. She shifted her gaze and somehow found Josh, who gave her a warm smile.
“Good evening. And, again, thank you for coming. This is such an important event for Nourish Our Youth. Without your help, we couldn’t possibly do even a fraction of the good work Vanessa was just telling you about.” She glanced at her notes so she could get the figures right as she shared what they had already raised that night. “But there are still opportunities to give. The silent auction will be open for bidding until 10:00 p.m. If you have any questions, come find me. And thank you again.”
There was a polite smattering of applause as she passed the mike back to Vanessa.
“Nice job,” Amber whispered as Eliza took her seat beside her. The rest of the NOY staff were scattered around the room, and Eliza did her best to get down at least a few forkfuls of the weedy salad that had been put in front of her.
The salad was whisked away and replaced by a “duet” of steak and salmon. Next to her Amber had the vegetarian meal?—pasta primavera. And then Vanessa was back up at the podium, introducing the president of their board of directors?—a small but remarkably loud woman in a tailored red suit?—who announced the Nourish Our Youth Award for Education Scholarship, followed by Ross, Ian, and Barbara, who each spoke about the importance of educational research.
Ross was in his element, loving having a roomful of people all turned his way. Eliza thought it might be a good time to check on the silent auction and any belated check-in-desk activity, and rose. As she turned toward the back of the room, Ross momentarily stuttered but quickly found his place again.
As expected, everything was under control, and she took some time scrolling through the auction app, pleased that nearly every item had been bid on and several were hotly contested. It was going to be a good night for NOY. The sound of applause rose again from the dining room, and she presumed Ross had finished speaking. Glancing at herself in a nearby mirror, she saw that her lipstick could use a refresh, so she ducked into the ladies’ room to take care of that. She breathed a sigh of relief. The evening was more than halfway over. It was homestretch time.
Another moment to adjust her dress, and she was on her way back to her seat. And then there was Ross, right in front of her.
“Eliza.”
She stopped, waiting for a crack about her leaving during his speech, but it didn’t come.
“Ross,” she replied. She tried to think of what she’d say if he weren’t her father. If they had no history. “Seems like a successful evening.”
He nodded. “Definitely.”
So much for small talk.
“Well, I’m going back in.” And then she was past him, only realizing as she walked away how much her heart was pounding. She made it back to her seat, and Amber turned toward her.
“You missed...” she began, and then stopped. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
Eliza pressed her hands against her cheeks. “I’m fine.”
Amber looked unconvinced. “Okay. Well, you missed Barbara. She is really funny. You should get her to tell you this story about when she was a research assistant and...”
Eliza wasn’t listening, but she nodded as if she were. She was concentrating on the roaring in her ears and trying to calm her breathing. And then a server came around with dessert?—something dark and chocolaty, with raspberries. Eliza had finalized the menu only a few days earlier, but she couldn’t remember what it was.
Amber immediately picked up her fork. “This looks amazing!” she exclaimed, digging in.
Taking a small sliver of her own, Eliza turned to her seatmate on the other side?—a former board member wearing dozens of bangles with whom she’d chatted earlier in the evening?—to ask her opinion of the speeches. Anything to get herself back into the groove of director of development at a gala rather than rejected daughter.
Bangles was in the middle of describing the first NOY gala she’d attended when Davin appeared, looking a bit like he’d run a marathon. He’d actually wrangled a number of press people to attend, so was likely out of breath from pitching them stories. “Eliza. Amber. We’re going to be grabbing some photos. Can you join us over by the silent-auction table?”
Terrific. She’d forgotten the posed photos. At least she’d touched up her lipstick. Maybe she could convince herself it would serve as a protective force field.
She put her napkin on the table. “Excuse us,” she said to Bangles, and followed Amber out of the room. The photographer was already there, snapping photos of the board president, Vanessa, Ross, Ian, and Barbara, while Bridget hovered nearby.
From her spot in the center of the lineup, Vanessa waved. “Great. You’re here. I’d like to get some shots of staff only, staff and the board, and then everyone all together.” The usual shuffling and reshuffling ensued as people were asked to angle themselves this way and that, move backward half a step, lower their chins, put their hands into their pockets, take their hands out of their pockets...
As the photographer moved them around once again, now into a group that included the faculty, Eliza found herself standing next to Barbara, who was oddly squirmy.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she bumped her elbow into Eliza. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She rubbed at her neck, and Eliza looked at her more closely. What were those blotches?
“You’re awfully red,” Eliza said, pointing at the other woman’s upper chest, which was bare in her square-necked dress.
Barbara stopped scratching and looked down at herself. “Am I? I’m crazy itchy.”
The photographer interjected loudly. “Can you all look this way, please?”
Barbara managed to stand still, but as soon as the camera was no longer pointed at them, she went to work again on her neck.
“Could you be having a reaction to something?” Eliza asked.
“I don’t know. But I’m not feeling right.” She took a wheezy breath.
Eliza touched her arm. “Let’s go sit down.”
She guided her to one of the chairs where the check-in volunteers had been stationed. “Bridget, could you get her some water?” she called as she pulled over a second chair so she could sit beside her.
Barbara touched her own lips. “My mouth feels funny.”
By then, Patrice and Davin had wandered over, Patrice looking troubled. “Can you breathe okay?” she asked. “My wife recently discovered she’s allergic to bee stings. Her lips and tongue swelled...” She glanced at Eliza and added more quietly, “It wasn’t good.”
Bridget returned with a glass of water, but by then no one was paying attention to her.
“I don’t think I have any allergies,” Barbara said, her breath sounding shallow. Patrice pinched her own mouth with her thumb and forefinger. The same thing she did when she was studying budget figures that didn’t add up. Eliza’s eyes darted over the people hovering around them. Everyone was so close. No wonder Barbara was having trouble breathing. She wished they’d move back and was about to say just that when Patrice bent down to peer more closely at Barbara.
Patrice quickly stood back up. “Does anyone have an EpiPen?” she asked, catching Davin’s eye. “Are there any doctors here?”
Eliza fumbled around with the skirt of her dress. No pockets. She knew that. What was wrong with her? But the bottom line was that she didn’t have her phone?—it was in her purse back at the table. “Maybe someone should call 911,” she heard herself say in an oddly high-pitched voice.