By Invitation Only

by Dorothea Benton Frank

  “Why, thank you,” Susan said. “And how is the grandmother of the groom?”

  Mom smiled and said, “I’m not wearing beige.”

  “Oh, please,” I said. “What are you wearing?”

  “Long underwear, for sure,” she said, and then under her breath she said, “She’s got the hots for your brother.”

  “You think?” I said.

  Alejandro had wandered away. He wanted to check the wine.

  Sophie, Stephanie, and Ann arrived together with a young man and a young woman I didn’t know.

  “We ran into each other on the El! Can you believe it?” Ann said.

  “Yeah! We had to drag our bags through the snow!” Stephanie said.

  “You did not,” the young man said. “I carried it for you.”

  “And you are . . . ?”

  “Oh, sorry! I’m Sam,” Sam said and shook my hand soundly. His hand was rough. A workingman’s hand.

  “Sam’s my boyfriend, Aunt Diane. We work together at Vermont Shepherd Mountain Cheeses. I left the commune and now I live in Putney.”

  “What is Vermont Shepherd?” I asked.

  “We are a two-hundred-and-fifty-acre farm in Westminster, Vermont,” Sam said. “We keep anywhere from three hundred to seven hundred sheep, depending on the year.”

  “And they make cheese. I’m the new assistant affineur,” Stephanie said. “I brought a wheel. It’s sooooo good!”

  “Affineur,” I said. “Thanks!”

  “Cheese ripener,” Stephanie said. “I’ll tell you all about it. Where’s Fred?”

  She took Sam by the hand and led him into the room.

  “Hang your coats in the bedroom!” I called after her.

  She turned back to me with a thumbs-up.

  “Ann! Hello, sweetheart! I’m so glad you got here!” I said.

  “Last plane out of Newark! Boy, it’s a mess out there!” she said. “Soph, give me y’all’s coats.”

  “It sure is,” Sophie said.

  She and her friend began peeling away layers of clothes until they reached their sweaters and slacks.

  “Ah, Sophie! It has always been too long! Thank you for making the trip!”

  “Hey, Aunt Di, this is my dear friend Karen, and yes, I’m a lesbian. Okay, that’s done.”

  “That’s nice, dear.” What was I supposed to say? Congratulations?

  “Hi,” said Karen.

  “Welcome!” I said. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”

  Young people continued to arrive until the apartment was filled with Fred and Shelby’s friends, many of whom who traveled on cross-country skis. None of Susan and Alejandro’s friends showed up, except Judy CQ.

  “I guess you just can’t take the farm out of the boy,” Judy CQ said dryly to Susan, looking around at the hay, the sunflowers, and of course, Molly. “It was so thoughtful of them to bring the chicken. What a nice touch. I feel like I’m back in South Carolina.”

  “Well, that was the general idea,” Shelby said. “Isn’t this so fun?”

  “My, my,” Judy said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Judy went into the bedroom to hang up her coat and to use the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later with a bottle of wine from Alejandro’s other wine that looked very expensive. She gave it to the bartender and asked him to open it. Then when he poured a glass for her, she came sailing by me and stopped to, I thought, say something nice like “Great party!”

  But no, she leaned into my ear and said, “There sure are a lot of EPT tests in their bathroom closet. Good thing they’re getting married tomorrow.”

  “Oh, come on now, Judy. Is that a nice thing to say?” And I said it as sweetly as I could. “Tell me. How did you get here?”

  “Why, my driver. How else?”

  I did not like that woman and I was sorry for Susan to have to deal with her.

  But no one noticed her hatefulness except me. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying a barbecue sandwich or a plate of shrimp and grits or both. The music played, Molly squawked like chickens do, and she thoroughly charmed every last person. I predicted massive leftovers.

  Shelby and Ashley came over with long faces.

  “What’s the matter, hon?” I said.

  “My bridesmaids can’t get here,” she said. “The snow. And the governor just declared a state of emergency. What’s going to happen to my wedding?”

  “It’s going to be all right,” I said, thinking for the first time that we might actually have a disaster on our hands. “Let’s go talk to your parents and Uncle Floyd. We need a powwow.”

  Shelby looked as though she was going to burst into tears. We worked our way over to the terrace door where Floyd and Susan were.

  “Wait here,” I said. “I’ll go get your dad.”

  I thought that he was in the bedroom, checking out his wine, but when I got there it was Kathy who was standing by the stack of cases, her jaw practically on the floor.

  “What’s the matter?” I said.

  “I have this app called Vivino on my phone. I take a picture of a wine label and it gives me the current market value of whatever wine I’m looking at.”

  “Okay, so? What?”

  “This wine, the Cloudy Bay, is about thirty dollars a bottle. And this Ruffino Classico Chianti is about the same. Alejandro opened those cases and started serving them. However! This freaking wine over here is worth five thousand a bottle. Did you hear me? Five thousand a bottle!” She was speaking in a guttural whisper.

  “Let me see that,” I said. “Susan’s friend Judy took a bottle of the good stuff to Fred’s best man who’s helping bartend and she’s drinking it?”

  “Who comes in somebody’s house and does that?” Kathy said. “That’s some crust.”

  “She’s not a nice woman,” I said.

  She shot a picture of the label on the box and she was right. That meant every case was worth sixty thousand dollars.

  “See?” she said. “I mean, I know it’s not right to be nosy, but you know me. I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Your app must be broken,” I said. “Did you see Alejandro?”

  “Yes. He said he was stepping outside to take a phone call.”

  “Uh-huh. I hope he took his coat.” I turned and began counting the number of cases.

  “Twenty,” Kathy said. “If my app is right, that’s one million two hundred thousand dollars in grapes.”

  “That’s got to be wrong. It has to be.” And then I thought, What if it’s not? “I’ll be back.”

  I looked around the room and Judy CQ was gone. She must’ve slithered out.

  I went back over to Floyd and Susan and joined the discussion.

  “Here’s an idea,” Susan said. “You check into the club tonight and I’ll bring your dress to you in the morning. And the hairdresser and the makeup artist.”

  “That could work,” Shelby said. “I could just pack a little bag.”

  Ashley said, “I’ll come with you!”

  “You will?”

  “Sure! What’s a maid of honor for? Sleepover!”

  “Wonderful! Frederick is not supposed to see you until the ceremony anyway. It’s bad luck,” Susan said.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” I said. “Do they have any idea when the storm is supposed to stop?”

  Floyd looked outside. The skies were pouring snow in great whirls. There was a foot or more on the terrace.

  Floyd said, “I’m gonna go with, not yet. Dang. This is some storm.”

  Susan said, “Every last one of our guests from out of state has canceled, even the ones with their own planes. I’m just sick about it.”

  Floyd refilled her glass and said, “Listen to old Uncle Floyd, Miss Susie-Q. It doesn’t matter. It’s gonna be whatever it’s gonna to be. I say, let’s just celebrate the kids, and whoever can’t make it, what can you do?”

  “Come on, Shelby,” Fred said. “Let’s go take our picture with Molly.”

  “Good idea,” she said an
d shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever it is, it is.”

  “I can’t believe you have a chicken at your no-rehearsal rehearsal party! How cool are you?” Ashley said.

  Mother Nature did not seem to care that she had thrown a giant monkey wrench in all our plans. The snow continued to fall as all the beer and the lesser wines were consumed with barbecue and cake, and it was all fine. But there was a staggering amount of snow on the ground and in the air and the wind was crazy, making it blinding.

  Alejandro must’ve been a magician in a past life. Somehow, that very night, he found horse-drawn sleighs to take us back to our hotel.

  “It was not magic! They were in a warehouse I rent to a company that supplies props to film studios that work on location here. The horses are the ones that give tours. They’re accustomed to working in pairs. Believe me, if I could perform magic, I would!”

  At the end of the night, when things were pretty much straightened up, we left in shifts. Mother and Kathy and I went first with Ann. My mother was thrilled to be in a horse-drawn sleigh. Susan, Shelby, Alejandro, and Ashley left in another. Then ours returned to Fred and Shelby’s apartment to pick up Stephanie and Sam and Sophie and Karen. Floyd brought up the rear, and crazy as the weather was, it was an unforgettable night. We all met in the hotel bar for a nightcap.

  “Well, the kids all made it, except the bridesmaids,” Mom said.

  “Kids are very resourceful,” Kathy said. “What a night!”

  “This snow is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!” Mom said. “It’s like a dream!”

  I cornered Floyd and told him about the wine.

  “Why would he do something like that?” Floyd said.

  “Maybe he doesn’t know what it’s worth?”

  “No way. That man knows about money. Something is very wrong here. I’m going to download another wine app and I’ll check it out tomorrow morning when I go feed Molly.”

  Chapter 22

  The Wedding—Susan

  “This weather is unacceptable,” Susan said.

  “Yes, dear,” Alejandro said.

  My nightgown was soaking wet. I jumped out of bed at six a.m. having suffered nightmares for hours, nightmares about being trapped in an elevator with chickens. Alejandro was still sleeping. He didn’t need to share a bed with a woman in a wet nightgown. Disgusting.

  I draped it over the top of my shower door and decided to weigh myself. Surely, with all that perspiring, I’d lost a few pounds. I stepped on my bathroom scale. Nothing new there. Damn it. Must’ve been the moonshine. I’d weighed 127 pounds for the last twenty years. I threw my cashmere caftan over my head. God, I loved cashmere, but truth? Life could be so unfair.

  The Glam Squad was coming at ten. I had a lot to do before then. I put on snow boots and my long fur coat and slipped outside to the terrace with a hot cup of coffee. The city was almost perfectly still. The blizzard had passed. All that remained were flurries, and even that might have been snow blowing from the rooftops. In the distance I could hear the city’s army of snowplows scraping the streets. Below my terrace I saw our super using a snowblower and his son spreading salt by hand from a bucket. It would be weeks before the snow was all gone. I knew from past experience that the city would dump tons of it in the lake and then the environmentalists would go crazy. The salt would kill the fish, which you wouldn’t eat anyway, even if Thomas Keller pan-seared them for you himself. Next, they’d dump it in the stadiums and arenas and there would still be drifts everywhere high over our heads and people complaining loudly about it all. I didn’t know it to be certain, but I was guessing the storm broke a lot of records.

  I hoped Alejandro had arranged for the sleighs for today as well. Although, once the streets were plowed and salted, any four-wheel-drive vehicle could get us to the club safely. But last night, he was a genius. This was why I loved Alejandro so much. He could do the impossible and do it with such élan! Poof! He was like David Copperfield, never ceasing to amaze everyone.

  He seemed so stressed out lately, but for once he wasn’t the only one. Organizing a wedding in thirty days wasn’t without its issues. And now here we were, with a greatly reduced guest list because of this horrible storm. I needed to sit down with the master list and give Wendy at the club a new head count. She would be happy, because of course I’d gone way past the limit of sending out invitations for only two hundred people. And I had to adjust the centerpieces as well, because we’d have fewer tables. With just one bridesmaid, Ashley, we needed only her bouquet and Shelby’s. And the place cards had to be reworked. Wendy had them, so I needed to give her a list of which ones to keep and which ones to toss. The only good thing about this wedding was that I hadn’t blown forty thousand dollars on butterflies.

  I was so upset that Judy CQ came last night. Straw on the floor? Bales of hay? Disposable plates and utensils? Solo cups and beer pong? And a chicken clucking its head off? Are you kidding? She’d be all atwitter for months. How could Shelby do this to my reputation? Oh, wait. It wasn’t my party. It was the kids’ party. That would be how I’d defend Molly, which, if you didn’t hate chickens, was pretty hilarious.

  And Floyd.

  Ah, Floyd, Floyd, Floyd. You make me dream of things I could never dare whisper in the light of day. Floyd was a terribly stupid name. It was an old name from Mayberry R.F.D. or something. A name for a very common man. But on him it took on a completely different connotation. Now when I whispered Floyd in my mind, I was thinking Fabio. Both of us thirty years younger, of course, sipping the sweet elixir of love, lying on the shores of Bali while whatever ocean they have washed over our tanned, firm bodies. And in those daydreams, Alejandro did not exist. I mean, I’m not the cheating kind. But those dreams were exactly that. Dreams. The days of the thrill of a new romance for me were long gone. It wasn’t that Alejandro and I didn’t have a romance in our lives, because we did. It was just that it was thirty-two years old, and certain things become perfunctory, if you know what I mean.

  Well, old girl, I told myself, today is a very big day. Not the day I envisioned, to be sure, but still, my only daughter would be married in just a few hours. The Union League Club had a lot of rules. I mean, I understood they had an incredible art collection to protect and rare books, antiques, rugs and so on. So the theatrics I had hoped to provide got boiled down to a normal ceremony and reception. Boo.

  I had to admit that I had become awfully fond of Frederick. And I was especially grateful that he wasn’t running back home and trading all his beautiful suits for overalls and camouflage. His family just was who they were. I was still working on forgiving them for ruining my plans for a proper wedding in June.

  I was getting chilled and wanted another cup of coffee, so I went inside. Alejandro was in the kitchen with the newspaper tucked under his arm and his reading glasses on top of his head. He was wearing his monogrammed cashmere bathrobe and leather slippers and holding a plate with four slices of buttered rye toast.

  “Good morning, amorcita,” he said. “Come sit with me. I made breakfast.”

  “You are too wonderful,” I said and kissed his cheek. He smelled so good. “You’re already up and shaved! I was trying to let you sleep in a little.” I refilled my mug and followed him.

  “How can a man sleep when today is the day he’s giving his daughter away? I don’t know why, but I’m feeling sentimental.”

  “Because getting married is important. Who we marry is one of the most monumental decisions we ever make.”

  He looked at me with the strangest expression.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. I just, um, Susan, I want you to know that I have never regretted marrying you for a single moment. Not one. I love you so much.”

  “Oh, darling, I feel the same way.”

  We went into the dining room and assumed our usual spots. I reached into the buffet and took out two Pimpernel place mats, the ones with ships, and white damask napkins. Just because our meal was only toast and coffee didn’t mean it co
uldn’t be civilized. I slipped the place mats under our dishes.

  “Which section do you want?” he asked, knowing the answer.

  Before I could say “Life and Style,” he handed it to me without even looking up from the business pages.

  “Shelby and Frederick’s wedding notice will be in tomorrow’s paper,” I said.

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Remember when brides used to have their portraits made in a studio, carrying a beautiful bouquet? We have mine somewhere in what I thought was the most gorgeous gown and veil in the entire world.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’re not listening to me.”

  “I am. They don’t do portraits anymore? I thought they did.”

  “Well, some do. But now the trend is to put on sweaters and jeans and run through a field of tall grass with your fiancé, so you look all windblown and physically fit and casual. I liked life better when things were a little more formal.”

  “Me too. Although last night, Molly the chicken was rather marvelous.”

  “Please! That bird!”

  After breakfast, I called in the changes to Wendy Wellin at the club and she was delighted.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this, Mrs. Cambria. And don’t worry about the ballroom looking cavernous. We can increase the size of the dance floor and bring in a few dozen ficus trees. This awful storm has just caused us no end of troubles.”

  “Mr. Cambria and I are so happy to be in your capable hands. Thank you, Wendy. Really, thank you for everything.”

  After the hundreds of phone calls I’d given her since Christmas, she probably hung up the phone and called me a terrible name. Ask me. Did I care?

  Next, I went to my bedroom, preparing to shower and wash my hair. I took my wedding gown, I mean the dress I was wearing to Shelby’s wedding, out of the closet and laid it across our bed. It was navy silk faille, Oscar de la Renta, fitted on top, full ballroom skirt. I planned to wear my triple strand of South Sea pearls with my pearl earrings surrounded by diamonds. And I had a triple-strand diamond bracelet, with round- and marquis-cut stones set to resemble flowers. I think Van Cleef made it. Oh, who cared? At the last minute I took out my diamond bow pin. Was it too much? Absolutely not, I decided. After all, this was my wedding too, no matter what anyone said.