Chapter 26
Quill
Blueberry
The Remsen
Carlos Rafael Rivera
Exhausted, I looked out the passenger window of my brother's car and tried to keep my eyes open, because last night had completely robbed me of sleep.
I didn't even want to know what I looked like. My eyes were probably completely bloodshot.
At least the dark blue pants and matching blazer over the white, airy blouse – Tony had brought me from Monica an hour ago – made me look presentable.
My outfit for this afternoon.
Whatever that meant.
“I can't believe I'm doing this,” my brother sighed, and I took my eyes off the mansions, which must all belong to the wealthiest families in this neighborhood.
“Monica insisted,” I replied with a shrug. “Besides, I could have walked.”
In a letter that had been in the box with the formal luxury clothing, she had invited me to her Ladies' Brunch.
An event that was hosted by a different wealthy lady from Maplecrest every year, and which Monica was organizing at her family estate this year.
The guests were mainly women from Maplecrest.
The reason behind it? Well... I was pretty sure it was the same as behind every event in this town.
Only this was the first event to which I had been officially invited.
Tony had told me he had had to lie for me and told Monica he had delivered the box to my student dorm.
He didn't have to do any of that.
I would have much preferred to stay in bed this morning and catch up on some sleep, probably ending up on the bathroom floor around noon, only to lose myself in the attic among all my writings for the night.
All thoughts vanished when Tony drove into a driveway made of white gravel that led to a sandstone mansion with large windows and extensive parkland that couldn't even be fully overlooked from here.
“This... is Monica's house?”
The circular driveway with its splashing fountain was lined with shiny vintage cars.
Curious, I scanned every corner, every balustrade and statue, until I heard a click.
Confused, I turned my head toward Tony.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
He smiled at me as if he desperately needed a whiskey. Something I always tried to talk him out of, because even though he was sensible, I didn't want him to end up like Father.
“Walking into the lion's den.”
Wait...
“What are you talking about?”
He pointed to the front entrance, where three laughing women in pretty dresses were entering the house.
“A house full of women...”
Exactly. So why did he want to go in there? Had I missed something? And besides... He would give us away.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Why exactly would you do that?”
“Because Monica asked me to.”
My other eyebrow followed suit.
“Oh. Asked you.” The corners of my mouth turned up in a teasing smile. “What is she to you? Your sugar mommy?”
Tony turned his head toward me with a shocked expression, and I couldn't help but grin.
“What the...”
“Is that why you won't let your marriage-obsessed mother set you up with someone?”
I wiggled my eyebrows until my brother stared at me in resignation.
“If you keep this up, I'll throw you into the nearby creek.”
Of which there were quite a few in Maplecrest. Creeks that were just as artificial as everything else in this town.
Tony adjusted the dark green tie of his dark gray plaid suit.
Now it made sense that he was so neatly dressed.
“Monica is part of my family.”
A family I would have liked to have.
Monica was the first woman in this town – except for Lara – with whom I enjoyed spending time. Only she would turn me into mincemeat as soon as she found out what a dirty game I was playing.
“Okay. Listen...” I turned to him. “I have to go in there first. She can’t…”
Tony raised a hand.
“I understand.”
I looked at him indecisively for a few more seconds, then at the unfamiliar villa, which had probably belonged to another Nazi in this town, before I left the car with one last glance around, crossed the driveway, and, as confidently as possible, walked up the stairs into the house.
Old Money
Ahmet Kenan Bilgic, Turgut Mavuk
I had planned to sneak as inconspicuously as possible through the entrance hall, which was filled with women chatting, and hide at the buffet until I bumped into Monica by chance, but she threw a spanner in the works.
“Quill!” she exclaimed with a delighted smile when she spotted me, and I immediately froze in my tracks, because now countless guests were turning to look at me. “I’m so glad you made it!”
Monica, dressed in an immaculate beige suit with gold cufflinks, approached me and immediately placed both hands on my shoulders.
“I'm glad Professor Richter delivered my gift.”
With an embarrassed smile, I wanted to thank her, but she was quicker, turning around and pulling me with her.
“Let me introduce you to a few people.”
Great.
“I...” ...don't like attention.
But Monica strode confidently, with me in tow, toward a group of seven women her age, who immediately turned to us with expectant looks and inspected me curiously.
“May I introduce you to Quillon Veritas. The first woman at Maplecrest.”
I wanted to sink into the ground.
This couldn't really be happening.
At some point, all these women would know who I really was, and I feared that even at that moment, cracks were already appearing in the facade of my overwhelmed smile, behind which the ink of my existence was just waiting to spill onto the clothes of Maplecrest's elite.
Each of these women introduced themselves to me as either journalists or lawyers, and one even as a senator, and I couldn't have felt more out of place.
The only thing that managed to distract me while Monica told the ladies about her plans at Maplecrest were Lorette and Brittany, who were apparently also here and stood in a circle of eagerly whispering, extravagantly dressed women, while they gave me looks that could have heralded World War III.
Lorette – dressed entirely in black and gold, while Brittany wore a brown tailored shift dress with gold buttons – tilted her head toward a blonde woman next to her and whispered something to her. Certainly not that I was the bastard daughter of her alcoholic husband.
Before my gaze could settle on the blonde girl to Brittany's right – who was sizing me up and down as if I were something vile – Monica grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to the next circle of women.
I met people who wouldn't even look at me if they knew who the lawyer's daughter from Canada really was and what she was doing here, and I was lucky there were no traces of ink on my hands.
Nevertheless, I was getting increasingly poisonous looks from the women around me, including some young women my age whom I thought I had already seen on campus.
After ten more minutes, countless lies about life in Canada, and no buffet in sight to which I could escape, my social battery was already on the verge of running out.
Suddenly, all eyes turned away from me, and I was about to take a deep breath and take advantage of the moment to escape, but I followed the guests' gaze through the entrance hall, spotted my brother in the doorway, and froze when I saw who was standing next to him, adjusting the cuffs of his white shirt under his dark blue suit jacket.
That suit jacket I had snuggled up in night after night.
I had expected to run into him in every place in this town, but not... here.
The lump in my throat made a traitorous leap, and I waited for him to spot me, but he was distracted.
Monica immediately walked up to the two of them, touched their shoulders in greeting, and began talking to them before a quiet, excited whisper spread through the crowd of female guests.
It didn't take long before a mother and her daughter pushed their way toward the three of them, greeting Davian, and I had to grin when the two men visibly had to force themselves to smile.
Nearby, Lorette cursed something incomprehensible before she also shooed Brittany forward, and more women started to move, while others followed the events with curious whispers.
Good heavens. Was this a bazaar?
It was reminiscent of the period around 1800, when women in ball gowns were presented to noble gentlemen with whom they hoped to find a favorable match. And even though I felt drawn to that time, a strange feeling spread through my chest at that very moment.
My gaze was fixed on Davian, and somewhere deep in a much too dark part of my mind, something was throbbing with longing, but I was unable to classify this feeling.
And suddenly, the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
All this time, Lorette had been trying to set Britt up with Davian.
I should have been amused, but the tugging in my chest only became more relentless.
I should have felt sorry for Davian, but Brittany wasn't a bad match. Yes, she was a vain goat, but she was educated, came from the same circles as him, and would certainly not be a burden to him.
Before any more women could reach the three of them, Davian turned to Monica, pointed behind him, and said something to her, causing her to nod while Anthony gave him a bewildered look.
My brother wanted to say something, but Davian turned hastily and hurried through a small passageway, leaving Lorette and Brittany, as well as all the other women, standing there looking after him in surprise until he had disappeared.
Everyone here was distracted.
This is your chance, Quill.
Before anyone could notice, I slipped through a passageway nearby, looked around one last time to make sure no one was following me, and finally made my escape.
Clumsy Hearts
Ahmet Kenan Bilgic, Turgut Mavuk
Cautiously, I wandered through a series of salons, wondering if Monica even used all of them and, if so, what for.
This house would be far too big for me alone. And she didn't seem to have a husband, children, or parents. Nothing and no one who could give this place meaning.
I made my way through a dining room filled with hunting trophies, which everyone in this town seemed to hoard as if they were decorative gold bars, but paused in the doorway to the next room.