by Abigail Keam
“There’s a ton of laundry to do. We use cloth diapers for the baby, so I have the laundry done at my house. I don’t use the Big House’s facilities for that. Amelia can fill you in on how to handle the cloth diapers properly.”
Liam swallowed and nodded, but said nothing.
Lady Elsmere’s eyes twinkled at the thought of Liam handling baby poo.
“Then you need to gather my mail. After that, the lawn at my cottage needs to be mowed, and then our rooms here need to be cleaned, especially the bathrooms. I’m afraid the baby is quite messy.”
“That will certainly take a lot off my plate,” agreed Charles.
“No problem, sir. No problem at all. I’ll get right on it. Let me change my clothes first,” declared Liam, before pausing in front of June. “I know you are still angry with me, but I adore you still.”
June looked the other way.
“Right,” moaned Liam before moving to gather the laundry.
“Let me show you our rooms,” offered Matt.
“Don’t bother, sir. I’ll find them. I’ll just follow the smell of baby vomit and soiled diapers. And before I forget my manners, congratulations on your baby girl.”
“Thank you, Liam. That’s all for now.”
“Very good, sir.” Liam bounded up the servants’ stairs to the second floor.
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” I asked, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“You should have thought of that before you sprang him from the greybar hotel,” sneered June.
“You mean the hoosegow, the clink, the slammer, the pokey, the pen, the joint, Sing Sing . . .”
June protested, “I put Liam there to keep him out of trouble.”
“You put him there because he embarrassed you. The hole, the farm, the rock, juvie,” I continued.
Matt put his hand over my mouth and pulled me away while saying, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him. If he causes any trouble, I’ll send him Josiah’s way.”
As Matt “escorted” me to my car, we ran into Franklin walking Matt’s new friend, the ugly mutt. Franklin looked pained. “See, Josiah. I told you he would eventually make me a dog walker.” Franklin sighed, “I can’t sink any lower than this.”
As Matt pushed me into my car, I yelled, “Don’t worry, Franklin. Your status is about to get a boost.”
“You mean it?” Franklin broke out into song. “Grey skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face . . .”
Laughing, Matt closed the car door. “Go home, Josiah. You’ve caused enough commotion today.”
It had been a long time since I had seen Matt laugh, so I didn’t want to ruin it. I started my car, and waving good-bye, I hurried to the Butterfly. I had to help Eunice prepare for the big gala anyway.
20
Matt and I worked Liam like a one-armed paper hanger. Currently he was unloading food from my car into the kitchen at the Hilltop Manor, while Eunice was counting glasses and bottles of champagne. My job was to open the kitchen door as Liam passed back and forth.
“Thank goodness Hilltop has a commercial kitchen. The food will be piping hot,” beamed Eunice as she rushed past me.
“Everything will be wonderful, Eunice. It always is with you.”
“Thanks, Josiah,” Eunice replied while putting the champagne on ice. “I couldn’t have finished the prepping in time if you and Liam hadn’t pitched in.” She looked up from her task. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to the Butterfly to get ready?”
“I thought I was going to help you set up, so I brought my dress. I can change upstairs.”
Eunice stopped what she was doing. “I hired Amelia’s sons to help in the kitchen and serve. Charles has trained them well, and they need the money. They all have girlfriends with expensive tastes.”
As she said that, I saw the Dupuy boys pull up in an old El Camino. Hmm. Where did they get that?
“Scoot, Josiah. You look tired.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, go home and get some rest before the gala. Everything’s under control.”
I nodded, but I didn’t leave. Instead, I went to speak with Liam.
The conversation between us was strictly private.
21
I never did go back to the Butterfly, my home on the palisades. There was no point. By the time I got home, I would have needed to turn right around and come back. So I gathered my bag and had Liam carry it to one of the guest bedroom suites upstairs. It took me a long time to walk up the flight of steep stairs because my leg was starting to tremble. I guess I had done too much today.
As soon I was ensconced in one of the back bedrooms, I took the room’s skeleton key and locked myself in. Then I took a pain pill and lay down, hoping no one would find me. I didn’t want to be berated for using the elegant four-poster antique bed for taking a little snooze. You see, I wasn’t supposed to be there.
Before long, I fell into a deep sleep. However, my nap was cut short as I was awakened by the sound of someone running through the hall and trying to open my door. Finding it locked, they ran away.
Oh dear! I’ve been caught. Getting up, I hurried to the window, where I could see that night had fallen and the parking lot was littered with cars. Behind some trees near the old ice house, I saw a figure move. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman and didn’t care. I looked at my watch. Oh, Jumping Jehosaphat! It was 8:45. The gala started at 8 pm. I was beyond fashionably late.
Hurriedly, I threw on my dress, the off-the-shoulder blue chiffon Dior, and blue house slippers. With record speed, I put on makeup and combed my hair. Perusing myself in the mirror, I decided I was passable. Gathering my day clothes and makeup into my bag, I opened the window and threw the bag behind the bushes surrounding the house. I would have Liam collect the bag for me later. Then I straightened the room. After making sure everything was in place, I turned the skeleton key, opened the door slightly, and peered out. Seeing no one about, I walked out and made my way down the servants’ staircase.
The kitchen was bustling. Eunice was snapping orders to her crew. I caught Liam’s eye as he was heading out with a tray of champagne. He headed over to me, and I was only too happy to accept a glass while whispering to him about my bag in the bushes. He nodded and hurried through the kitchen door.
I followed him to the next room.
An enormous buffet and open bar were set up in the room, which was packed full of attendees filling their plates and chugging down copious amounts of punch and alcohol.
I pushed through the jubilant crowd, greeting friends and acquaintances as I made my way to the enormous ballroom where the exhibit was held. Hearing my name, I turned and spied Franklin waving to me. Beside him stood Matt. Franklin grabbed Matt’s arm and navigated through the crowd.
“Good evening,” crowed Franklin, dressed in a white dinner jacket with black pants, white shirt, accented by a black bow tie, with his hair slicked back. Matt was dressed in a classic black tuxedo with a red rose boutonnière. He was letting his hair grow out to its former curly glory instead of the nearly bald cut he’d worn when he was so ill. He looked almost like his old self.
Smiling, I said, “You both look gorgeous.”
Franklin spun around, showing off his ’60s look. “You like? Very James Bond, don’t you think?”
“I very much like.”
Franklin pointed to Matt. “Look. He asked me to come with him, and I’ve been taken off dog walking detail. Things are looking up.”
“Shut up, Franklin.” Matt rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was having a good time.
“Feeling okay?” I asked Matt.
Matt put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “The best I’ve felt in a long time. It wasn’t until I got back to Kentucky that I realized how uncomfortable I was living in Meriah’s house. It wasn’t home, you know. It was hers, and it felt like I was imposing, although I think Meriah needed me during the pregnancy.”
“I will grant that Meriah had a lot
to deal with–the pregnancy and you being so severely injured. It couldn’t have been easy,” added Franklin.
Matt looked stunned. “What? You’re giving Meriah a compliment?” He shot a grin at Franklin. “Well, wonders will never cease.”
“I feel wonderful enough tonight to forgive anyone, even Meriah,” laughed Franklin before giving me the once-over. “That is until I see Josiah dressed for this occasion without my advice. I notice you’re wearing that tired old Dior again.”
“Franklin!” cautioned Matt sternly.
“A Dior is never old,” I replied, feeling a little bit peeved. “And I was dressing myself long before you were born, Franklin.”
“Why is your face so puffy, Josiah?” inquired Franklin, moving closer and peering into my eyes.
“Really, Franklin,” scolded Matt. “You’re insulting Josiah and being a boor.”
“I’m sorry, Josiah. Except for the swollen cheeks, you look great.”
I declared, “Franklin, you sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” Angry and fearful Franklin was on to my secret, I turned and melted into the crowd. Over the noise of the crowd, I could hear Matt berating Franklin.
That made me smile.
22
Grabbing another glass of champagne off a passing tray, I wandered into the exhibit, where a pianist was banging away at popular songs from the forties.
“Hey, Toots.”
I turned around. There stood Walter Neff wearing a black tuxedo, hair combed (what little there was), freshly shaven, shoes shined, neck free of gold chains, and his fly zipped all the way up. This was a night full of wonders. “Hello, Walter. I didn’t know they made tuxedo trousers that short.”
Ignoring my remark, Walter said, “You look swell.”
That made me feel a little bit peevish, and I reminded myself that I didn’t have to be a bitch all the time. “Sorry, Walter. You look very nice, too.”
Walter patted his waistcoat. “I know you like to make fun at my expense, but you can’t deny that I look like a shiny penny tonight.”
I chuckled. “You’re so right. Miss Bunny must be rubbing off on you.”
Walter elbowed me and winked. “I’m staying at Ravensnest until the case is over. If I play my cards right, maybe I can make this a permanent gig.”
“Bunny has terrible taste in husbands, so I think you should fit right in.” Dang it. There I go again.
Walter smirked. “You can’t goad me tonight, Toots. I’ve got the world by the tail. Things are finally shakin’ my way.”
“Speaking of the case.”
“Were we?” replied Walter, grabbing an hors ’oeuvre from a passing tray. He popped it into his mouth.
“What’s going on?”
“Sorry. Client confidentiality. By the way, have you looked at that journal yet?”
“I told you I wasn’t going to do that.”
Walter shrugged. “No hard feelings. I’ll pick it up next week.”
“Please do,” I replied, watching Thaddeus McPherson make his way toward us, wearing ’20s evening wear complete with tails and white waistcoat.
“Hello, Mrs. Reynolds. Enjoying the gala?”
“Very much. It’s a splendid affair.”
Walter nudged me.
“This is Walter Neff. Walter, this is Thaddeus McPherson, the man who arranged the exhibit.”
Mr. McPherson shook Walter’s hand. “Call me Teddy please. Nice to meet you. Hope you are enjoying yourself.”
“How did you get all these dames–I mean ladies–to loan their dresses? I don’t know much about couture, but I know these rags cost a bundle.”
I winced, but kept a smile frozen on my face.
Teddy looked back and forth between Walter and me, probably trying to gauge if Walter was pulling his leg. He decided to take Walter at face value. “It’s easy if you know how to ask correctly. Please excuse me. I must tend to my other guests.”
I nodded, hoping my cheeks weren’t too bright red.
Giving a slight bow, Teddy McPherson disappeared into the crowd.
Scowling, Walter stood on his toes and scanned the crowd. “I wonder where Bunny took off to? She said she was going to the powder room, but she’s been gone a long time.”
She couldn’t take much of you either, I thought. “I’ve got to work the room myself. Please excuse me.”
“If you see Bunny, tell her I’m waitin’ on her.”
“Will do,” I replied, beginning to push my way through the crowd to see my Roberto Capucci dresses. “Excuse me. Pardon. It’s a little tight in here, isn’t it? So sorry. Oh, hello, nice to see you again. Let’s do lunch soon. Hello darling, you look fab. Kiss, kiss. Call me. Coming through.”
Halfway through the crowd, I spied Lady Elsmere with Mrs. Dupuy holding court in a corner so friends and well-wishers could line up to congratulate Her Ladyship since she had the greatest number of dresses in the exhibit.
Both ladies were wearing lots of sparkling gems, but June easily won with her diamond tiara. Not only did she look like she had borrowed the Statue of Liberty’s crown, she had the same frosty look on her face when her peepers got a fix on me. “Where have you been?” demanded Lady Elsmere. “Did you just get here?”
“I was helping Eunice,” I replied. Not the exact truth, but I didn’t feel I needed to give an exact account of my whereabouts. “I see that you two are having a great time.”
Both Lady Elsmere and Mrs. Dupuy smiled.
“Did you know that dreadful man was working here?” questioned Lady Elsmere.
“I don’t know to whom you are referring.”
“Don’t be impertinent. There he is.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Liam approach, carefully balancing a tray. He ceremoniously bent down and offered Lady Elsmere and Mrs. Dupuy each a glass of champagne. Mrs. Dupuy took a glass, while Lady Elsmere looked the other way.
“See that I’m still in the doghouse,” Liam murmured before moving on.
Hearing a restless crowd stir behind me, I knew I had better shove off. “I’m off to see my dresses. Talk to you both later. We can compare notes,” I said, moving away.
After negotiating the gallery floor, I finally made it to my dresses and whom did I find stationed in front of them? Ellen Boudreaux–my late husband’s mistress!
She was with one of her prissy friends, criticizing Brannon for not pinching one of my Capucci dresses before he dumped me for her.
“I don’t know why she’s crying poor mouth when she could sell one of these dresses and get herself out of debt,” harangued Ellen.
“I heard she’s in the black since the city settled that lawsuit with her–millions and millions,” said her friend.
“What a waste of our tax money,” complained Ellen. “Hey, have you got a cigarette? It would be a pity if it was accidentally dropped and burned a hole in the fabric.”
I stepped on the train of Ellen’s sparkly silver dress and leaned over, whispering in her ear. “This is a non-smoking facility.”
Startled, Ellen turned suddenly, which resulted in a sound like fabric ripping. She looked over her shoulder at me, and then the back of her dress. “Get off my gown,” hissed Ellen.
“So sorry. Didn’t realize that I was standing on your tail–I mean train.”
“See if there’s a rip,” demanded Ellen of her friend.
I moved back to allow her friend to inspect the back of Ellen’s dress.
“Just a little tear, easily fixed. Come on. I’ve got a small sewing kit in my car. We can fix it in a jiffy,” she said, tugging at Ellen’s arm.
“Yeah, you better take care of that. And one more thing,” I said in passing. “If there is any damage to my dresses, I’ll make sure you and your friend feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“My displeasure, or rather my daughter’s. You remember Asa? She’d snatch the pitchfork from the Devil if she was mad enough, and she’s counting on inheriting those two dresses in pristine co
ndition.”
At the mention of Asa’s name, both women blanched.
“Come on,” begged her friend. “You’ve made your point. Let’s go.”
Ellen let herself be led away by her girlfriend, but not before she shot me a withering glance.
I gave her the finger, subtly, of course. Come on, now. You know why. I hate that woman.
After watching Ellen exit the ballroom, I stood back and listened to people’s comments about my dresses.
They were wonderfully displayed on mannequins with moveable parts, and it looked like the dresses were in motion. Combined with accessories, the dresses looked better than they did on me. I had worn the petal dress to a function only once, and the kimono dress had never been seen in public until this exhibit.
I bought the dresses thinking I was going to live a life of parties and good times with Brannon. I hadn’t noticed the storm brewing on the horizon. The good times slowly dissolved until there were none, and after Brannon left, the invitations to grand functions dried up. I had nowhere to wear the fabulous dresses, so I was happy that they would be appreciated now for the art they were. The gala attendees seemed mesmerized by them.
“The Capuccis seem to be a hit,” chatted Teddy, suddenly beside me.
I smiled warmly at him. “Yes, they do. I’m very happy for them.”
“Happy for a dress?”
“Happy that they are getting the recognition they deserve, and for the artist who created them.”
“I need a break from glad-handing. Would you like to join me on the veranda?”
“That would be lovely.”
Teddy offered his arm, which I took, and then escorted me to the veranda. I swear there was a fifteen-degree difference between the outdoors and inside Hilltop Manor.
“This is much better,” he said. “The house has been chilling for several days, but it feels like someone turned the AC off.”
“Lots of spectators churning up the heat in there. You should be glad the gala is so successful.”
“I’m very gratified. I’m hoping to have a record number of attendees.”
