Chapter 11
At four on Halloween day, Summer carried the last two cake boxes out to the society volunteer’s car. She had spent the morning watching customers turn boxes sideways to get them through the door, and wanted these ninety-six cakes to survive the last mile.
“Nothing on top,” she told him. She shifted an umbrella away from the stack before closing the trunk. His name was Peter; she checked it against Lorraine’s message, thanked him, and watched him drive off.
When she returned, Macy was explaining that the window cakes were display pieces. Summer put a forgotten child’s glove beside the register, where it joined a pair of glasses, then told her the ninety-six cakes had gone.
“Good.” Macy shut the cash drawer with her hip. “Now you can stop counting them.” She glanced toward the clock, then at the last row of pastries in the case. “We might actually get you out of here.”
They closed at five, after the last booked collection.
Summer turned the sign to closed while Macy packed the remaining pastries for them to take home.
For a moment Summer stood with her hand on the lock, looking out at a street that seemed to be opening just as they were finishing.
Two women in identical pointed hats were trying to keep a paper bag dry beneath an umbrella.
A man with a painted skeleton face had stopped to retie a little girl’s shoe, his own cape tucked under his arm while she balanced against his shoulder.
“You’re allowed to go out in it,” Macy said behind her. “You don’t have to keep checking whether they’ve all bought something.” She handed Summer a paper bag and went back for her own coat.
Summer laughed and went to fetch her coat. “What are you doing tonight?” she asked Macy. “You said somebody was picking you up.”
“Going to my sister’s first. The children want me to see their costumes before they spill things on them.
” Macy wound her scarf around her neck. “Then I’m getting picked up.
I’m not trying to park anywhere.” She looked at Summer’s bag.
“There are two of the chocolate ones in there. One is for Jonah.”
“I’ll put his name on it,” Summer said, slipping the bag inside her larger one. Macy checked the back door while Summer put on her coat; they left together after Macy had seen her put the keys away.
Jonah heated soup when she texted that they had closed. By the time she washed her hands and sat down, it was ready, and he was investigating the pastry bag with an interest that made her glad she had not eaten the chocolate eclair in the car.
“The car’s coming at seven,” he said. “We’ve got time.”
“Did your mother need anything else?” Summer asked. She tore her bread into the soup.
“A photograph before we leave. In case we look better here.” Jonah reached across the table to brush a crumb from her sleeve. “I told her she’d have to take her chances.”
After eating, Summer went upstairs and showered.
She washed away flour from the crease beside her wrist and discovered a small burn on the back of one hand that she had failed to notice at work.
There was nothing to be done about it now.
She dried her hair, opened the wardrobe, and let herself look at the dress for a moment before taking it out.
Summer spread the gown across the bed before trying the mask with her hair. By the third attempt her arms ached. She took it off again, leaving a few strands loose near her face, and stepped into the dress.
Jonah came in while she was fastening an earring. He wore the black vest over a white shirt, his tuxedo jacket still on its hanger. She looked at him in the mirror, then turned to have a better view. The clothes made him seem taller, or perhaps merely made her stand differently in answer.
Jonah touched his tie. “Does this go? I’ve got the other one downstairs.”
“Leave it,” Summer said, coming across to straighten the knot. “You look lovely. I haven’t seen you in all this before.” She lingered with her fingers at his collar until he smiled at her.
“The jacket’s been in the wardrobe for years,” he said. “I’d forgotten which shirt I wore with it.” He glanced at the envelope beside her evening bag. “Have you checked those? I don’t want to arrive and find we left them on the bed.”
She smiled and turned her back so he could fasten the top of her dress.
His fingers found the zipper more easily this time, and he left his hand between her shoulder blades when he finished.
“You look stunning,” he said. In the mirror, his gaze moved over the blue skirt until she turned to face him.
“Thank you,” Summer said. “I’m glad we’re going.”
“So am I.” He moved closer, careful of her skirt, and kissed her just below the ear. She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying it. Then the doorbell downstairs announced the car, and he went to answer while she put on her shoes.
She packed her evening bag and put on the gray wrap, then her coat. Getting into the car required gathering the skirt in a way that made Jonah offer help and the driver pretend not to watch.
They reached the historical society a little after half past seven.
From the car Summer could see light in the long windows beside the front door and people arriving in clothes too elaborate for the shallow puddles by the curb.
Jonah went around to her side, but she had already got the door open.
She gave him her bag so she could deal with the skirt herself, and took his arm when they reached the steps.
Inside, the hall had lost the disorder she remembered.
The vacuum cleaner and light bulbs were gone; bare branches rose from tall pots beside the staircase, threaded with small lights.
The entrance sign was the cream one she had chosen.
Seeing it gave her a little claim on the room, and she pointed it out to Jonah while they waited to hand over their tickets.
Beyond the doorway, the wind dragged dead leaves along the steps with a dry scratching sound.
Someone behind her said the house was supposed to be haunted; Summer turned, expecting a joke, but the woman was already talking to somebody else.
Jonah’s hand warmed the small of her back as he guided her out of the draft.
“You were right,” he said, leaning close enough to be heard over the voices around them. “The other one would have looked yellow.” She laughed and gave the envelope to the woman at the table, who marked their names before directing them toward the coats.
The front room on the right had temporary rails along one wall.
Beyond them the three donated portraits were hung, with Kylie’s neat labels beneath.
Summer looked for the woman with the book while a volunteer took her coat and gave her a numbered ticket.
She put it in her evening bag, kept the wrap over her arms, and turned to find Lorraine approaching in a deep green dress with her hair pinned beneath a silver clip.
“There you are.” Lorraine kissed her cheek, then held her at arm’s length long enough to see the gown. “Oh, Summer. That blue, its stunning on you.” She stepped back to see the skirt, smiling so broadly that Summer turned for her.
“Thank you.” She looked past Lorraine toward the ballroom, where music was already playing. “The cakes arrived?”
“All of them. I’ve eaten one, so we’ll have to make do with ninety-five.
” Lorraine squeezed her arm before letting go.
“No inspecting them tonight. If anything goes wrong, someone else will deal with it.” She turned to Jonah, who was struggling to tie his mask without catching his hair, and did it for him before he could refuse.
Summer lifted her own mask and caught the pin that began sliding from her hair. “Could I use a bathroom?” she asked. “I’ve been fighting with this all evening. I think I tied it over the wrong bit.”
Lorraine glanced toward a short passage off the hall, where two women were waiting outside a closed door.
“Come upstairs. There’s another bathroom and hardly anyone uses it.
” She told Jonah they would be a moment, then took Summer toward the staircase, stopping once to answer a question about the music.
The stairs were broad enough for them to go side by side until the turn.
Summer lifted her hem and ran her free hand along the polished banister, feeling how much easier the climb was in these shoes than it would have been in the pair she had almost bought.
At the top, Lorraine turned right along a straight corridor.
The music followed them faintly, a rhythm without the clear edges of the notes.
“There’s a quiet room here,” Lorraine said, indicating the first door on the right.
It stood open onto a sitting room, with a blue sofa beneath a window and two lamps lit beside it.
A low table held a pitcher of water and glasses; a woman in a gold dress was sitting in an armchair, reading a message on her phone.
She looked up, nodded to Lorraine, and returned to it with the concentration of someone who had come upstairs for that purpose.
Across the corridor and a little farther along, a man emerged from a bedroom carrying an empty clothes hanger.
Behind him Summer could see a bed with a plain cream cover, a dressing table, and several garment bags hanging from a freestanding rail.
He apologized for being in their way, though he scarcely was, then asked Lorraine where the spare hangers belonged.
“Leave it on the rail. We’ll sort them tomorrow.
” Lorraine waited until he went back inside before leading Summer past. “People helping this afternoon got changed here. Otherwise I’d still be finding someone somewhere to put on a pair of pants.
” She sounded more amused than burdened now that everyone appeared to have succeeded.
The bathroom was at the end of the corridor.
Summer went in while Lorraine waited outside, set her bag on a dry corner of the shelf, and inspected the offending pin.
It had caught more ribbon than hair. She untied the mask, corrected the pin, and fastened the ribbons beneath the pinned-up section, drawing the ends evenly down her neck.
She checked the corrected pin in the mirror. The silver mask gave her tired eyes an unfamiliar beauty, and she lingered over it before gathering her bag and opening the door.
Lorraine had gone a few steps back toward the bedroom and was talking to Kylie, who stood beside the garment rack.
She wore a black dress with sheer sleeves and a black mask pushed up into her dark hair.
Summer could see the ends of black ribbons where the elastic had apparently been replaced.
Kylie had a black bag in her hand and was listening to something about the coat tickets.
“Summer,” she said when she saw her. “You look lovely.” Her eyes moved over the gown and stopped at the ribbons below Summer’s pinned hair. Summer slowed, dodging her extended hands, remembering the bedroom mirror. Then Kylie stepped back to make room for her, and she felt petty for hesitating.
“So do you.” She meant it; the black suited Kylie, who seemed pleased with herself. “Did you get your application sent?”
“Yes. No answer yet, but at least it’s gone.” Kylie tucked the bag under her arm and lowered her mask over her face. “I’m trying not to spend tonight checking.” She looked toward the stairs, where someone had begun calling Lorraine’s name, and stepped aside to let her pass.
They went down together, Lorraine ahead, Summer taking the turn slowly.
Jonah was waiting near the bottom with his hands in his pockets.
He looked up when she came into view, and the steadiness of his attention made her glad she had taken the time with the ribbons.
Kylie continued past him toward the front room while he held out his hand to Summer.
“Have you still got all your pins?” Jonah asked as she reached the last step. “I can go and collect any casualties.”
“Most of them,” Summer said, letting the last fold of skirt fall from her hand. Beyond the double doors, couples moved across the ballroom floor, reflected in the dark windows where she had seen the garden. “Come and dance before somebody needs you.”
Jonah glanced toward the refreshment room. “Do you want a drink first?” His hand remained around hers, and she could feel the small shift as he made room for someone to pass behind him.
“In a minute.” Summer moved toward the ballroom, bringing him with her before she could become occupied with who had arrived or where the cakes had been put. The floor felt smooth beneath her shoes. When he turned to face her, she rested her hand on his shoulder and waited for the first step.