7. Fireworks
Avi initially expressed concern over Corey’s idea to get each guest’s measurements without any context. While her sister could have informed them that the information was necessary to have custom Regency attire made and waiting for them when they arrived, in Corey’s mind that would have taken all the fun out of it. So, passive as ever, Avi conceded with the hope that the surprises waiting in each guest’s closet would more than makeup for her sister’s possibly offensive inquiries. But, as always, Corey was right. The women loved their Regency-themed gowns, and the men looked rather distinguished in their velvet tail coats. And while Hawthorne Hall could not afford to supply every cohort of incoming guests with thousands of dollars in era-accurate attire, with Kelly Thatcher’s posts reaching nearly seven million potential clients, Avi was glad she’d heeded Corey’s advice.
The back patio’s expansive edges were marked by four anachronistic but necessary large kerosene heaters. Two more stood between the dance floor and the guest tables, and an additional six lined the lit garden walkway. It was just after eleven when Avi summoned the social resolve to make her appearance at the outdoor rout, and though the dim lighting of the open-air, night venue provided the ideal backdrop for her stunning guests, she hoped the cold would not deter them from enjoying the extraordinary experience. If it were up to Avi - the owner of Hawthorne Hall - the party would have been held in the ballroom, but Gracie insisted, and it was often easier to just give Gracie what she wanted rather than argue. Besides, she had promised Avi that the end of the evening surprise would be far more enjoyable outside than in.
The location of the party was not the only thing the owner and manager failed to see eye to eye on. Gracie felt the need to serve wine. Avi couldn’t help but envision scenes of questionable behavior and puddles of acidic projectile flooding the dance floor. As a compromise, Avi permitted her sister to set out fourteen miniature bottles - one per guest - of rose gold chardonnay in a small ice tub at one of the guest tables. By the time Avi arrived, all but two of the bottles had been depleted and their minimal effects; worn off.
Before Avi had even taken three steps onto the patio to begin making her rounds as hostess of the rout, Gracie’s end-of-party surprise began exploding across the night sky. Blasts of green, white, red, and violet mortars took turns cracking and booming overhead, casting their various hues onto the guests below. Avi’s gaze alternated between the fireworks and faces. She caught a green glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Kensington as well as Mick and Ethel together in each other’s arms, pausing their dances to admire the pyrotechnics. Over at the guest tables, she saw violet versions of the Jane Gang, Bonnie, Thomas, and Jack all leaning into one of Kelly’s selfies. Her guests’ happiness made Avi happy. With a smile, she turned her head heavenward one last time before high-pitched squeaky laughter coming from the garden stole her attention. Just as she looked down, a bright white blast illuminated the garden, revealing Devin and Kai chasing each other through the maze of hedges.
Grinning, Avi said to herself, “What are they doing up?” before making her way towards her nephews.
With one last echoing boom, the final firework of the night cast a pinkish-red glow over the garden just as Mr. MacKinnon burst through the bush, giving the twins a jovial scare. Avi stopped. The twins ran faster as Mr. MacKinnon - with a smile larger than any of the other guests - chased the twins through the labyrinth of foliage, roaring like a benevolent monster. While the rest of the guests applauded the show, Avi commenced her approach at a slowed pace. But, from the guest tables, a woman’s heavy Scottish accent rerouted her.
“There ye are, Avi! We were juist talking aboot ye.”
“Oh?” said Avi, trying to ignore the impatient pull of the garden.
“Aye, come on…jyne us.”
With a forced smile and one last glance at the yard, Avi made her way over to Bonnie and the other guests. Mr. and Mrs. Kensington and Ethel and Mick had resumed dancing on the dance floor, so Avi greeted them with swift cordiality in passing. When Avi was close to the tables, Thomas and Jack stood and bowed as Jack offered his chair; a sacrifice made in the name of new-found chivalry.
“How proper,” Avi said with a smile. “Thank you.”
“As ah was saying…we were juist talkin’ aboot th’ way ye handled Dane today.”
“Oh, you mean the…the sitting and standing thing?”
“Aye, but juist as much, th” cold demeanor…Ah appreciate ye having mah back like that.”
“It was fun to watch,” said Clara. “Especially after that feign ignorance comment.”
“Yea. That was a little awkward.”
“Well, that’s Dane fur ye: a good man…yet an immature bairn.”
“Yes, well, how are you doing with all…that?” asked Avi, trying to steer the conversation away from bashing Mr. MacKinnon.
“Och, ah”m okay. Th” more ah think aboot it, th” more ah think he”s juist blowin’ off steam. Ah”m sure if ah juist give him his space, he”ll recognize whit he threw away ”n” want me back.”
The thought, though not entirely unexpected, turned Avi’s stomach more green with envy than she thought it would.
“Would you take him back, though…after all this?” asked Kelly.
“Aye. Ah think sae. Ah mean, ah invested two ”n” a half years in th” man…”
“Be honest,” Jennifer interrupted, “it’s the lips, isn’t it?”
The rest of the women laughed as Thomas and Jack looked masculinely uncomfortable.
“Aye. They make th” decision a little easier…he is a very good wincher.”
Like Avi, the rest of the table exuded silent uncertainty in their understanding of the word wincher.
Realization molded Bonnie’s now-embarrassed countenance as she clarified, “...it means kisser…”
As the rest of the group laughed in uncomfortable relief, Avi was left disappointed. She had hoped wincher meant singer, talker, or…almost anything but kisser. That is, she’d hoped he was a good kisser, but hearing it from Bonnie added more green to her gut.
“Yes, well…” Jack said as he and Thomas stood, “...this conversation has descended into the uninteresting realm of girl talk. We’ll leave you to it.”
With a laugh, Bonnie said, “Ah’m sorry. We’ll change th’ subject.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m exhausted.”
”Me too.”
“Oh! Plus...” said Jada excitedly. “You have a big day tomorrow: reading Pride and Prejudice and all…”
The men’s apparent discomfort and widening eyes indicated they’d forgotten.
“You weren’t serious about that, were you?”
“Why, Thomas? You weren’t?” Jada asked with a dainty yet powerful glare.
Thomas looked to Jack and awaited his response.
“Fine,” said Jack.
“Yay!” Jada exclaimed. “Right after breakfast…in the library…you won’t regret it. And get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”
Thomas and Jack returned to the house as Bonnie steered the group back to the original conversation.
“Listen, Avi, don’t feel like ye need tae be too mean tae th’ man. Especially on mah behalf. Ah”d hate fur him tae leave ye a nasty online review or something.”
“Well, in that case, maybe I should go say something to him…make him feel less out of place…”
“Good idea,” said Bonnie as she checked her phone. “Kelly! How does yer post a’ready have ten-thousand views?”
As Kelly responded, Avi excused herself from the table to join Mr. MacKinnon and her nephews in the garden. When she arrived at the three stone steps that joined the patio to the backyard, she saw her nephews asleep and curled up together under the warmth of a heater. Mr. MacKinnon sat a few feet away, writing in the same brown, worn notebook he had been using when Shane Alcott had dropped off Avi”s welcome basket.
“You wore them out,” she said, gesturing to the twins.
In a flash, Mr. MacKinnon - seemingly startled by her sudden appearance - closed the small book and inserted it into the large side pocket of his tailcoat, and replaced his staggered expression with a confident smile. As she descended the steps, he rose to his feet and greeted her with a bow.
“Aye, ah was juist watching them fur Josh. He went tae th’ roof tae help with th’ fireworks.”
“So you’ve met Josh?” she asked.
“Heck yeah, he has,” came Josh’s voice from the stairs. “I gave this hotty Scotty a ride to the store yesterday.” Josh jogged down the steps and placed an arm around his sister before asking Mr. MacKinnon, “How’s that sleeping bag working out for you?”
“What sleeping bag?” asked Avi.
“The one I gave him a ride to go buy. The dude’s roughin’ it outside. Was it as warm as advertised?”
“T’was perfect, chum. Taps off ”n” toasty.”
“Haha, dude, I love how you talk,” Josh said as he left Avi’s side to throw an arm around Mr. MacKinnon’s shoulder. “Isn’t this guy the best?”
“Pal, ye make me want tae be a better man.” Mr. MacKinnon said with sincerity.
“And you make me want to be a better Scotsman.”
“Mr. MacKinnon,” Avi said in disbelief, interrupting the bromance, “you didn’t really sleep outside last night, did you?”
“Sissy, this guy’s a dawg! He goes hunting for days at a time in the Scottish wilderness. I think he can handle…”
“Josh, he’s a guest!” Avi interrupted. “Mr. MacKinnon, I will not have you sleeping outside in the elements.”
“Bit yer th” one who said th’ dogs sleep outside.”
“Yes, I know, but…”
“N’ yer th’ one who said…”
“Yes...and I’m sorry.”
She could sense her apology had caught him off guard. It had caught her off guard. She couldn’t help but feel like her admission culminated in something of an intrapersonal loss, but his tender, gracious expression made her feel like she’d won. “Please, Mr. MacKinnon,” she said. “I insist that you sleep inside the remainder of your stay.”
“Sissy, come on. The man’s a beast…a soldier…forty-nine degrees doesn’t come close to phasing…”
“But Mucker, th’ lady insists…” said Mr. MacKinnon.
Josh stood there looking defeated before playfully saying, “You know my favorite ‘Dane word’ is mucker…I can’t say no to mucker? I’ll see if Helena can have some of the staff set up a place for him to sleep.” Josh picked up his twins, threw one over each shoulder, and lurched up the patio steps.
“Thanks, Josh. And after that will you thank them and send Helena and the other servants home? It’s so late.”
“For sure. Night sissy…night mucker.”
“See ye later, ye gommie.”
“Right back at ya, ya wee bawbag,” said Josh as he disappeared into the house.
With a tone of self-admiration, Mr. MacKinnon turned to Avi and said, “Ah taught him that…”
“And now my brother is gone forever. But thank you for looking after Kai and Devin. They can be quite a handful.”
“Ye kidding? Chasing them lads around wis th” most fun a”ve had since ah got ”ere.” Realizing that wasn’t what any business owner wanted to hear, he added, “Ah mean…considering th’ circumstances…”
“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy on you with everything that’s happened, and I haven’t been as warm as I probably should have been.”
“Mmm, mibbie,” he said, “bit yer warm enough.”
She didn’t know her subconscious had been keeping track, but as soon as he said it, she knew it was the first compliment he’d ever paid her. Yer warm enough. It wasn’t Shakespeare. It wasn’t even very kind when analyzed, but there was something about the way he said it that had her reading deeper into its meaning. The night provided the perfect cover for her flushed cheeks to hide, but in case it couldn’t conceal her glow, Avi quickly moved the discussion along.
“So…did you…enjoy your wine?”
“Eh…ah’m not much o’ a drinker…nae anymore, at least. Ah saw th’ bottles out ‘n’ ah know it’s rude t’ decline, but…”
“No, I...I completely understand. I’ve never even tasted it, so…”
“Whit?” he asked in utter shock.
“What?”
“Ye”ve never tasted wine?”
“Not just wine. I’ve never tasted any alcohol.”
“Whit?! Ye liar!”
“It’s true,” she giggled.
“Lass, ye’r as innocent as a wee bairn! Dae ye mind if ah ask how come ye haven”t?”
Before she could even think to respond, Ethel came down the stairs and walked right past Avi.
“Dane, why haven’t you asked me to dance yet? I may not be as beautiful as this one...” Ethel said, gesturing to Avi, ”...but I”ve got the moves like Jagger.”
With a laugh, Mr. MacKinnon asked, “Mrs. Lancaster, dae ye think it”d be a”right with Mr. Lancaster if I had this dance?”
“No…but let’s go,” she said as she snatched his arm and led him up the stairs.
After following them up to the dance floor and continuing to the tables, Avi pretended to be invested in the other guests” conversations, but her mind was elsewhere. Every so often, when she felt like no one would notice, she snuck in a rapid glance in the direction of the dance floor. Her seat was facing away from Mr. MacKinnon, so catching a glimpse of him required a great degree of subtlety. Though brief, each look provided ample opportunity for her to fawn over the adorable scene of Mr. MacKinnon thoroughly enjoying himself while dancing with Ethel Lancaster.
“So…how are you?” Ethel asked mid-dance.
“Amazing, now that ah”m dancin’ with ye.”
“I’m not asking for charm, young man. I’m asking for the truth. How are you…really?”
The wall of his guarded smile fell slightly lower, but he couldn’t find the words nor the humility to answer her question.
“Just as I thought. You’re miserable here.”
“Ah wouldn’t say miserable. Ah juist…”
“Might I offer you a word of advice that will make the rest of your time here more enjoyable?” she asked as Mr. MacKinnon nodded. “Life’s too short to be doing what you’re doing.”
Thinking she was talking about breaking up with Bonnie, he said, “With all due respect, ye don’t understand. Ah had tae break up with her. T’was…”
“I’m not talking about leaving the wrong person. I’m talking about making the most of the time you have with the right one…the time you’re currently wasting.”
Mr. MacKinnon looked at her with curious confusion.
“Ask her to dance,” Ethel said with a knowing smile.
He didn’t need to ask who she was referring to. Mr. MacKinnon looked over Ethel’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of Avi trying to sneak in a glimpse of him, and as he did, Avi”s head shot back around like a snapping rubber band. She tried to play it off like she was stretching her neck to crack it, rather than stealing a glance. Mr. MacKinnon couldn”t help feeling flattered by Avi”s covert intrigue, but he wasn’t as optimistic as Ethel that Avi was the right person, nor had he even considered it, but he was intrigued by her.
He looked back at Ethel and said, “Mibbie ah will.”
Back at the tables, the energy was dying. Avi’s muscles ached from all her attempts at owl-like head contortions. She sat for a few moments massaging the side of her neck before realizing that one of the two untouched bottles of wine was not wine at all. It was a bottle of sparkling cider with a small note attached by a gold sliver of tied ribbon. The note simply read, Avi. No doubt Gracie’s doing. On most occasions, she”d have already guzzled it down, but seeing her untouched bottle next to his gave her pause and caused her to smile. She picked it up out of the ice just as Bonnie spoke.
“Tis almost midnight…Ah think ah’m off tae bed,” Bonnie said, as the rest of the guests agreed by standing up from the tables. Avi followed suit, and as she stood and turned around, she found herself standing face-to-face with Mr. MacKinnon. He looked nervous. She looked nervous. Avi could feel Bonnie analyzing the probable cause of their nervousness.
“Ms. Hawthorne,” he said with uncharacteristic anxiety, “may ah have this dance?”
Avi froze, the Jane Gang froze, Kelly froze, Mick froze, the Kensingtons froze, time froze, and Bonnie burned. The heat emanating from her anger made answering as Avi desired, logistically impossible. She could do little more than stand there wide-eyed and speechless and wait for the end of the world. Avi opened her mouth to say something but had nothing to exhale. Suddenly a somewhat familiar voice saved her from incriminating herself.
“Alright, everyone. Party’s over!”
It was Deputy Constable Stanswick, standing near the four-piece orchestra in a coat and pajama pants flashing his badge for everyone to see. Avi had never been happier to see the police.
“That’s right…shut it down…music off. Thank you. Everyone needs to head indoors…that is, everyone except you, Ms. Hawthorne.”
Bonnie, still steaming, stomped back into the house with the rest of the guests in tow. Mr. MacKinnon hesitated as if he were still waiting for an answer, but when none came, he turned and retreated indoors. Once the backyard was void of everyone except he and Avi, Vernon Stanswick addressed her.
“What’d I say, Ms. Hawthorne?”
Frustrated at herself, Avi said, “I’m so sorry, sir. Are fireworks illegal in England?”
“No…but they are after eleven. Seven…noise complaints.”
“Seven?” she worriedly asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I am so so sorry, sir. Tomorrow I’ll… I’ll visit every single person who complained and offer my sincere apologies. I”ll also pay any fines for the trouble I’ve caused. May I have the names?”
“The names?”
“...of the people who complained…so I can apologize, sir.”
Stanswick stood as stoic as an anchored, concrete statue for a few moments before responding, “Fine. I may have exaggerated the number of complaints a bit…it was only one, but still…it might as well have been seven; forcing me out of bed like that to abandon the most pleasant of peaceful dreams…it’s rude, Ms. Hawthorne. Very rude, indeed.”
“It was and I can”t apologize enough. It won’t happen again. May I please have the name? And if it’s not too much of an inconvenience, can you tell me how to go about paying fines here, sir?”
Deputy Constable Stanswick settled in for a long pause before admitting, “I had forgotten how genuinely genuine you are. I want to dislike you. I really really do. I would love to enjoy fining your rich little rump all the way back to the United States of America, but I fear I’d only regret it. Despite your morally destitute country of origin, I’m struggling to find any faults in you whatsoever. Because of that, there will be no fine. Only a warning,” he said before spotting the bottle in her hand. “Unless of course, you plan on using that there bottle of booze as a chaser to your midnight doobie…”
Avi looked down at her hand. She then held up the bottle and said, “It’s sparkling cider, sir. I don’t drink.”
He inhaled thoroughly and with a sigh of disappointment said, “Of course you don’t.”
With that, he turned to leave.
Remembering her promise to apologize, she asked, “...and the name…of the person who made the complaint, sir?”
He stopped and turned. Shooting her the faintest smirk, he said, “Vernon Stanswick, ma’am,” then he continued back to his car.
Inside, Avi was elated that she had dodged two bullets from a pair of male shooters. But before she could make it past the drawing room, she saw an intercontinental ballistic missile beelining for her face. It was Bonnie, and she was only building in fury and speed. Her height and reach each had six inches on Avi, and with the toned physique of a rabid model, she had just enough muscle mass to mercilessly rain down scorched earth upon her dainty hostess.
“Ah cannae believe it!” Bonnie said through clenched teeth. Just as Avi was about to curl up into a ball and scream for help, Bonnie continued, “Kin ye believe, he would dae that tae us?!”
“To us?” Avi thought.
“Th” nerve o” that man: usin’ ye tae make me jealous like that…he’s unbelievable!”
Half happy that she would live to see another day while also hoping that wasn’t the reason he asked her to dance, Avi forced herself to agree, “Right?! I can’t believe that…that…” she said, trying to remember the phrase her brother used, “...that wee bawbag!”
Avi”s attempt to speak Scots caused the fury in Bonnie”s face to give way to laughter.
“Och, Avi! Ah love ye! ‘N’ a’m sae sorry he put ye in that awkward situation…in front o’ everybody…”
“It’s fine. I can handle Dane MacKinnon. I mean, less than a week and he’s gone forever, right?”
It was the first time she’d thought about that from her current, positive perspective of him, and it stung.
“Well, ah won’t keep ye up. Git some sleep, ‘n’ thanks fur bein’ such a good friend!”
“Don’t mention it,” said Avi as Bonnie retired to her room for the night.
Less than a week and he’d be gone forever. The thought weighed heavy and forced her to sink into the nearest chair at the drawing room table. Gazing down, Avi saw the Sistine Chapel Ceiling puzzle. But in reality, she saw nothing more than the single piece of cracked cream ceiling fresco that gave rise to her unfortunate dilemma.