“The fire at Halliwell Industries demolished the stage and the seating for the pageant.”
“That’s all true, but I happen to know at least one historical landmark with freshly landscaped yards that could accommodate the pageant on short notice.”
“The Waverly House?” Mr. McMichael said. “Adelaide would never agree to that.”
“Adelaide is a smart woman who would recognize the greater good in this situation,” I said.
He turned his head slightly and took in Charlie’s expression. She watched him warily, her face cocked off to the side, studying him as if she expected him to make a sudden move. Finally, he turned back to me. “Ms. Monroe, if you ever get tired of running the fabric shop, come see me about a job. You have a way of putting things that make me think you probably get your way quite frequently.” He turned to Charlie. “I’m going to try to catch my ex-wife by surprise. Why don’t you go see Lucy and help her pack her things? I won’t be back to the house for several hours.”
“No,” Charlie said. Her face colored.
Mr. McMichael studied Charlie for a moment. He closed his briefcase and let it dangle in his right hand next to his leg. “As far as I know, Adelaide doesn’t know you’re the daughter we gave up for adoption. All the time you’ve been living in San Ladrón, she’s only known you to be a member of the community. It’s your decision how you handle that knowledge.”
After Mr. McMichael left, Charlie pointed her finger at me. “You might think everything turned out okay but don’t think you’re off the hook yet.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I’ll think of something.”
Thirty-five
One week later, I arrived at the Waverly House for what was to take the place of the Miss Tangorli pageant. Because of the murder, the embezzlement, and the fires at Halliwell Industries, it wouldn’t be the pageant everyone had expected. It had been Tiffany, the head California blonde, who suggested that we make it a memorial for Harvey. She’d also suggested that, since the twenty of them had spent so much time on their dresses, there still be voting on that part of the competition. All of the contestants had been asked if they still wanted to participate in the pageant. The answer was unanimous. If San Ladrón were a big city, the idea might have been forgotten, but the community pulled together to make it happen.
As young women trickled out of the salons across the street, they stopped by Material Girl to get their dresses. Big Joe picked up Maria’s gown around four. Duke wheeled himself out of The Broadside at five thirty. He wore the same tuxedo and bow tie that he’d worn to the garden party. I stepped outside the fabric store and whistled. He waved and smiled and wheeled himself down the sidewalk toward the intersection on the corner.
“I gotta hand it to you, missy,” said Tiki Tom. “You know how to get stuff done. It might not be the island way, but it works for you. Are you headed to the pageant?”
“In a bit.”
Not wanting to take away from the pageant contestants, I defaulted to my usual choice of black. I slipped on a vintage sleeveless dress that I’d found at the back of Aunt Millie’s closet. It was covered with tiny jet beads and weighed several pounds. It was long enough to graze my ankles. I slipped on a pair of black mules with delicate beading across the instep and a modest one-inch heel. I arrived at the party on my own. Scores of residents, pageant contestants and their family members, and local business owners and others filled the grounds. I spotted a few of the pageant contestants in the crowd. Tiffany showed off her robin’s-egg-blue gown to Jun Wong. Lucy stood with two other young women, shifting from side to side, showing off how the color of the fabric in her dress changed with the light. Another cluster of young women giggled as Duke performed card tricks on a small card table that he’d rigged across the armrests of his wheelchair.
Without Harvey Halliwell, there would be no trip to China, but after what I’d said to Mr. McMichael, he’d not wanted to abandon the idea behind the pageant altogether. Each of the twenty finalists would receive a one-year full scholarship to the school of her choice. Further monies would be determined on a case-by-case basis after each of their freshman years. Harvey’s money was going to make a difference in a lot of lives.
And speaking of Harvey’s money, a donation had been made to the Waverly House’s operating budget in exchange for the use of their property for today’s memorial. Nobody mentioned it, but we all knew who controlled those accounts.
Adelaide met me by the side of the building. She greeted me with an affectionate hug.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.
“It was a natural suggestion. Mr. McMichael would have reached the same conclusion eventually.”
“I’m not talking about the Waverly House. I’m talking about my daughter.”
“You know?”
“I do now. Vic and I had a long-overdue heart-to-heart last night. Details might have become public and he wanted me to find out from him.”
“Have you talked to Charlie?”
“I want to respect what she’s been through. I’m not going to force her to have a relationship with me if she doesn’t want one.” I heard the note of hope mixed with sadness as Adelaide’s emotions betrayed her words.
I looked around the grounds. “Where’s Sheila?”
Her smile dropped. “Sheila and I had a long heart-to-heart, too. She resigned yesterday and is moving back to Illinois to be with her family. Her father hasn’t been well and the strain on her has been taking its toll.”
“It must be hard for her to be so far away.”
“She’s been sending them money to help with their finances, but I think her presence there will do far more good than her paycheck does. And should she ever want to return to San Ladrón, there will be a job for her at the Waverly House. I promised her that.”
We entered the courtyard. I looked for Mr. McMichael, finally spotting him at the back of the yard, talking to Inez Platt. She looked radiant in a sage-green shift dress. Her olive skin glowed against it. Xavier, the head landscaper, approached the two of them. He handed Mr. McMichael a flute of champagne and Inez a glass of water.
“Xavier knows Inez?” I asked.
Adelaide smiled. “They make a great couple, don’t they? Two green thumbs.”
Inez caught me watching her and waved. She said something to the men and came our direction.
“Poly,” she greeted me. “I had no idea. None of us did.”
“I’m sorry your work in the greenhouse was destroyed.”
She looked at the glass in her hand, then back at me. Her big brown eyes were framed by thick lashes. Despite the scarring on her face, I could see the beauty that had won her the pageant crown all those years ago.
“I think it’s time I got out from Halliwell Industries and had a life of my own. Xavier and I are going to join forces and start our own nursery.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “You two know more about plant life than I know about fabric.”
She put her hand on her tummy. “We’re going to need the other kind of nursery, too,” she said.
“You’re pregnant?”
“It’s early, and it’s a risky pregnancy, but we’ve already decided we want a family.”
“Congratulations!” I hugged her, and water from her glass sloshed onto both of our dresses.
“If I came to your store, could you help me pick out fabrics for a baby’s room?”
“Absolutely.”
Xavier called Inez’s name and she returned to him. He draped his arm around her shoulder and put his hand on her tummy. She kissed him on the cheek.
“Ah, young love.” Charlie handed me a flute of champagne. “Polyester, this has been one crazy week. San Ladrón will never be the same.”
“San Ladrón? Or you?” I studied her face. Charlie had dealt with more than anybody else this week: the
reality of Ned keeping the trust fund that had been intended for her, the secret of who her real parents were. Nobody would blame her if she pulled up the roots she’d planted and moved on so she could start over. “After all that went down, are you going to be okay?”
“Me? I’m Teflon. After today, none of this is going to stick.” She sipped at her champagne and watched Adelaide.
“She never knew,” I said. “Vic didn’t tell her who you really were until last night. She’ll respect whatever you choose to do, but think about it, Charlie. She wanted you to grow up in a loving family, not in the middle of a nasty divorce. She had no way of knowing how your life turned out.”
“That makes two of us.”
I shifted my attention from Adelaide to Vaughn, Maria, and Duke. Vaughn and Duke were dressed handsomely in tuxedos, and Maria fairly vibrated in the silver and gold dress that Jun and I had made her. She turned to the side and put her hand on her head and posed. I cut my eyes to her hem. It was the perfect length.
On a table next to the three of them was a white ballot box. Residents of San Ladrón paused to write their votes on index cards and feed them through the top of the box. The three official judges were off the hook this year, but the winning dress would be chosen by popular vote. Judging from the number of people who stopped to compliment Maria, I suspected the winner of the dress contest would not be one of the pageant contestants.
“Hey, Polyester,” Charlie said, elbowing me in the side. “Are you and Vaughn ever going to get out of first gear?”
“I don’t know. He’s a shiny new BMW and I’m a beat-up VW. Maybe we don’t fit.”
“Maybe you don’t, but there’s a lot better things to worry about than money.” I gave Charlie my full attention. “Listen, there’s no harm in trying, right?”
“You tell me.”
She pursed her lips and chuckled. “I think I’m going to go find Sheriff Clark,” she said.
I raised my eyebrows. “Look at you. Talking the talk and walking the walk. Will wonders never cease?”
She swirled her flute of champagne. “How did you know that moving to San Ladrón was the right thing to do?” she asked.
“I didn’t. I was scared and a little sick to my stomach. Everything I knew was about to change. It was a little like standing on the edge of a cliff and trying to decide whether to jump.”
She turned to me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Nice metaphor. Most people don’t survive a jump off a cliff.”
I wanted to roll my eyes or make a joke, but I knew she was talking about something bigger than my metaphor. “Charlie, I don’t know everything, but I know this. You can keep doing what you’re doing and nothing’s ever going to change. Or you can take a leap of faith and see where it takes you. It’s your choice.”
She stared at me for a few more seconds, as if waiting for me to push her one way or the other. I didn’t. She shielded her eyes and looked out over the crowd. Big Joe had joined Maria, Duke, and Vaughn, forming a small crowd underneath the weeping willow tree. Maria said something and Big Joe threw his head back and let loose his booming laugh, which carried across the artistically landscaped grounds. The others responded in kind. Vaughn looked away from the group, saw Charlie and me, and waved. I waved back.
“Sick to your stomach, you said?” Charlie said.
“Pretty much.”
“What about now that you’ve been here for a while?”
“I’d say it’s starting to fade,” I said. I raised my champagne flute. She clinked her glass against mine and we each took a sip.
“I guess anything can happen, even in a town like San Ladrón,” she said.
I smiled. “That’s what I’ve come to believe.”
PROJECT: MAKE A GARMENT BAG
Giovanni’s girls make garment bags for each of the twenty pageant contestants. Here’s how to make a custom garment bag, which is great for travel or just for brightening up your closet. Select fabrics that make you smile! These instructions will result in a 53” garment bag, which is long enough to hold a knee-length dress.
3 yards of woven fabric in your choice of color
1 60” zipper
Yardstick or measuring tape
Chalk
1 wooden hanger
Scissors
Iron
Pins
Thread
Sewing machine
Optional: seam ripper
* These instructions can be used with most fabrics. Poly suggests cotton or silk shantung. Avoid fabrics with stretch, as they will “grow” when they hang in your closet.
1. Fold fabric in half lengthwise, matching selvage edges on either side. Cut along fold.
2. Using a yardstick or measuring tape, measure 12" from center on either side. Mark with chalk.
3. Align edges of fabric (right sides together). Lay the wooden hanger with the hook jutting past the cut edge. Mark the outline of the hanger on the fabric with chalk.
4. Cut your fabric along the chalked lines.
5. Fold ½" of fabric along the side where the hanger was. Press.
6. Repeat step 5 on the second piece of fabric.
7. Mark off a 3" opening (1½" on either side of the hanger hook) with pins.
8. Place the fabric with right sides together. Pin along one side from the outside of the opening (marked in step 7) down 60".
9. Baste the fabrics together along the side.
10. Press the seam open.
11. Place the zipper facedown into the seam. With the machine, stitch into place along one side, across the bottom of zipper, and back up.
12. Turn the fabric over and carefully remove the basted stitches, revealing the zipper.
13. Return the fabric to the right-sides-together position. Pin the remaining edges together from the bottom of the zipper, along the bottom of the bag, and up the entire length of the opposite side, ending at the pin marked for the hanger opening.
14. Stitch together.
15. Press the seams flat.
16. Unzip the zipper and turn the garment bag right side out.
17. Put the hanger in the bag and feed the hook through the opening at the top.
18. Hang in the closet and admire!
Additional Ideas:
Contrast the zipper to the fabric to create a whimsical combination. Harvey Halliwell might suggest shades of citrus.
Use different colors for the front and back (yard and a half of each).
Add a pocket to the outside of your bag to hold coordinating jewelry or accessories.
Make plans for a glamorous getaway so you can show off your bag!
“Give me the knife,” demanded the cranky man in the wheelchair.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“I’m not playing, Margo. Give me the knife.”
“Why? I already told you I could do it. It’s just going to take longer than I thought.”
“That’s because you can’t climb the ladder in those silly boots.”
“Why are you so worried about my go-go boots? You bought them for me. Besides, you’re the one wearing two different shoes.”
My dad—the cranky man in the wheelchair—looked down at his feet. He wore one brown wing tip and one black.
“I pay that nurse too much to end up leaving the house wearing two different shoes,” he said. “And this stupid chair makes everything worse. If I can get up and down the stairs okay, then I don’t need it.”
“You’re in that chair because you’re still weak. The doctors don’t want you running all over the place and having a second heart attack. And the nurse didn’t mismatch your shoes on purpose. Most of the nurses don’t expect to have such colorful patients.”
He stuck his feet out in front of him and shook his head at the sight of the mismatched shoes. “I said
brown wing tips. How hard is that?”
I was pretty sure my dad wasn’t used to relying on a woman to dress him—nurses or otherwise. He’d been a widower since my mother died giving birth to me thirty-two years ago. While growing up, I’d notice the way women who came into the costume shop looked at him in his paisley ascots, tweed blazers, and dress pants. He was a catch, my father. And now that he was recovering from an unexpected heart attack, he was a cranky, stuck-in-his-ways catch that the nurses of Proper City Medical Care had the distinct pleasure of dressing, at least until I’d arrived. I wondered if the mismatched-shoe situation was payback for his attitude.
“You’re going to have to let me help you. Got that?” I said, pointing an accusatory finger at his nose. He swatted it away.
“It’s not right. I’m your father. I’m supposed to take care of you, not the other way around.”
“I’m a grown-up now.”
“You’re too grown-up, if you ask me.” He glared at my outfit a second time.
“What? We have this exact same outfit in the ’60s section of the store.” I pointed to the back corner of the shop, where a kaleidoscope mural in neon shades covered the walls.
The store in question was Disguise DeLimit, our family’s costume shop. The store had been around far longer than I had, starting sometime in the ’70s by a couple who had worked in the movie business in Hollywood. My dad had started as a stock boy before he was old enough to work legally, and slowly graduated first to salesperson and then manager.
Eventually, the couple decided their time running the store was over. Turns out Dad had been saving for a rainy day and bought them out, inventory and all. Shortly after he became owner he met my mother and they fell in love. They married and planned to start a family and run the shop together. Two years later, the love of his life was gone and in her place was a newborn baby: me.
“Besides, you always said the fact that my outfits are inspired by costumes in our inventory was good for business. Remember?”
He grunted an answer and rolled back to the boxes.
The outfit that ruffled his feathers was a mod, zip-front minidress colorblocked in red, white, blue, and black. It ended midthigh, which left an expanse of skin between the bottom of the hem and the top of my white patent leather boots.
Silk Stalkings Page 25
