A Palette for Love

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A Palette for Love Page 20

by Charlotte Greene


  “We’re so glad to meet one of Amelia’s friends after all this time,” Ingrid said, her voice surprisingly low.

  “It’s been so long,” Dean said shortly and without warmth.

  “So what exactly do you do together?” Ingrid asked.

  I had to swallow hard to stop myself from spewing champagne out of my nose, but I managed to cover up my laughter with a cough. Amelia patted me on the back. I glanced up at Amelia in desperation. If I opened my mouth, I’d start laughing. Her eyes were likewise full of merriment, but I saw her gain control of herself.

  “Amelia is my researcher, primarily. She also helps with home sales, shipping, things of that nature.”

  I cleared my throat, my amusement contained. “And what do you do?” I asked. I looked at both of them.

  “I’m in the real-estate and oil business, like my father,” Dean said.

  “I’m in charity work,” Ingrid said, looking, if possible, colder than before.

  Amelia’s brother Bobby suddenly appeared next to me and grabbed my arm. “Would y’all excuse us for a second?” he asked the others. “I need Clothilde here for something.”

  Confused, I excused myself and followed Bobby behind a nearby hedgerow. The hedge divided the lawn and garden from the patio. Several children were playing boules on the lawn, and others were racing around playing tag.

  Bobby smiled at me. “It looked like Ingrid might bite your head off there for a second. Thought I’d step in and rescue you.”

  I laughed. “Thanks. I guess I said something to upset her.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I just asked what she did for a living.”

  He grinned. “A woman like her thinks it’s beneath a woman of her position to work,” he explained. “On the other hand, she resents it that some women do work and probably envies them. I think she’s afraid that women who work look down on her.”

  I was mortified. “Shit. Guess I really put my foot in it.”

  “Don’t worry.” Bobby patted my arm. “She hates everybody. You’re not a part of this family until Ingrid Winters hates you, so you’ve taken the first step.”

  I chuckled, and we both turned and looked out at the lawn and the kids. I watched him spot his daughters playing on the swing set, and his eyes warmed at the sight of them. We both watched them for a while, and I took the opportunity to glance over at him a couple of times. He and Amelia bore a striking resemblance except for their eyes and hair. He had green eyes, and his hair was wavy and dark blond—probably like their father’s had been when he was young. He was tall and muscular, and his cheerful disposition was instantly winning. All-in-all, I found him incredibly charming and, in a past life, would have likely wanted to get to know him personally. The thought of this personable man becoming a part of my life in a different way pleased me.

  Michael and Jenna appeared around the corner of the hedge and strolled over to us. Michael was apparently the odd one out, as he didn’t look like either of his parents or his other siblings. Lean and tall with nearly black, curly hair, he dressed in clothes more casual and worn-looking than the rest of his family. Seeing that I was attended to, Bobby excused himself to go play with his daughters on the swing set.

  “Hello again,” Michael said. “I’m the resident black sheep.”

  Jenna swatted his arm. “You are not!”

  “Am too.” He turned to me. “Both of my brothers and Amelia inherited the ability to make money. I’m only good at spending it.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Anyway, we’re just so happy you could come. Amelia never brings anyone to these things, and you look like a regular person.” She blushed when she realized how this sounded. “I’m sorry—”

  I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I pride myself on looking normal. That’s how I get away with so much.”

  She was relieved at my joke, lame as it was.

  “I’m a musician,” Michael said, “and so is Jenna. We both play downtown. I’m drums, she’s bass.”

  “Oh yeah? My best friend is in a band, too. Mostly bluegrass and folk.”

  “What’s her name?” Jenna asked.

  “Meghan Powers,” I said.

  They both looked startled and then laughed. “Really? How funny!” Jenna said.

  “I just played a gig with her last week. I’ve known Meghan forever,” Michael added.

  “We’ve never met, but I’ve heard about her from Michael and a lot of our musician friends. She’s really well known in our scene,” Jenna added.

  I found it very easy to talk to Michael and Jenna, and the three of us more or less hid from the rest of the party for the next half hour, chatting about the New Orleans music scene. Because I’d been living in Paris for the last four years, I didn’t know it as well as I used to, but I managed to hold up my end of the conversation pretty well. Michael was extremely flirtatious, but in a way that was clearly nonthreatening, both to me and to his girlfriend. I found him likeable and approachable in a way that some members of his family were not, though Bobby and Emma seemed nice enough. Michael lived simply and cheaply downtown, and most of his references were to people and places I knew or was familiar with. Jenna grew up in Metairie, a suburb, and was, like me, unaccustomed to this kind of wealth.

  We were so caught up in our conversation that I hardly noticed when the band stopped playing. It wasn’t until Bobby and the children quickly walked by us that we followed them back to the other side of the yard. I spotted Amelia and walked over to her, and she almost sagged in relief.

  “I couldn’t find you,” she whispered. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it painfully.

  “That’s ’cause I was hiding,” I said, and winked.

  Amelia’s parents were up on the bandstand in front of a microphone. Ted spoke first.

  “Welcome, welcome everyone! Thank you so much for coming. The weather is cooperating with us, unlike last year, so for once we’ll be able to stay out here this afternoon.” There were several chuckles at this. “This week marks our fortieth anniversary,” here there was applause, “and we’re thrilled that all of you could join us for our Ruby Wedding. Some of you out there—like Dan, and Georgia, and a few of you other old farts—were there at our original wedding forty years ago, and you’ve been with us ever since. I count myself lucky to have such long friendships in my life and such a gorgeous woman to share them with.” There was more applause after this.

  Mrs. Winters took the microphone from him and bowed slightly, as if it the applause was for her alone. “Thank you, thank you, all of you. As I look back on the last forty years, I feel so blessed to have met and known so many of you for so long. These years have brought me five wonderful children and a lifetime of happiness. I wouldn’t do a thing differently.”

  “Except have me. She hates it when something is unexpected,” Emma whispered next to me, and I threw her an amused look.

  Mrs. Winters continued. “We will have a light buffet dinner in about an hour, but until then, please help yourselves to snacks and drinks. We’ll try to catch all of you for a chat.” She put the microphone back in its stand, and Ted helped her step down off the platform.

  Amelia turned to me. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “You basically disappeared!” Emma chimed in. “Where on earth did you hide?”

  I laughed. “Michael, Bobby, Jenna, and I were over on the lawn chatting.”

  “Damn it! Why didn’t I think of that?” Emma said, scowling.

  “You got caught in Aunt Trudie’s tentacles, Emma,” Amelia said.

  Emma scowled further. “She’s always sucking me into her vortex at every family event. Half the time I think she’s trying to set me up with her son. Like, hello, he’s my cousin!”

  We all laughed.

  Emma’s eyes suddenly widened at something behind me, and, turning, I saw a giant moose of a man walk outside from the house. He was easily close to seven feet tall, solid in the way of a construction worker or lumberjack. His hair and beard were
a fiery red, and he was dressed in a light linen suit that looked as if it might burst off him at any moment. Emma squealed and ran at him, launching herself into his arms and wrapping her legs around his middle in an embrace. He kissed her and swung her around a couple of times before setting her down on the ground. The discrepancy between their sizes was amusing, but the man did his best to help Emma, almost crouching down as she spoke with him. They chatted for a couple of seconds, and then they were kissing again. This went on for quite a while, and several groups of people glanced over at them, obviously embarrassed by the public display of affection.

  “I take it that’s the boyfriend, Billy?” I asked.

  Amelia nodded, clearly amused. “They’re always like that. They’ve been together for so long now, you would think the honeymoon phase would fizzle out, but I guess not. I just know one of these days she’s going to tell us she’s pregnant. Or getting married. Probably in that order.”

  We watched them a moment longer before Amelia caught my eye, her eyes dancing with mischief. “What do you say we take advantage of the next hour and disappear for a bit? I could show you my childhood bedroom.”

  “Let’s see it.”

  *

  The second floor of the house was clearly less formal than the ground floor, and I guessed that the family spent most of their time up here in these rooms, keeping the ground floor authentic to its original time period for tours. Without asking, I could guess that Mrs. Winters had influenced that decision, but up here was clearly family space. We passed several open doors, one a living room, one a cozy library, and then a couple of bedrooms before we reached Amelia’s old room. It had obviously been kept as it was when she lived here, as a couple of band posters from a decade ago were thumbtacked to the walls next to some cheap art prints. Amelia sat down on the bed, watching me as I slowly took in the room. I picked up some of the framed photographs, amused at the young Amelia, then saw one of her and another, unknown girl. Amelia’s arm was around her shoulders. They both looked to be about high-school age. I held it up and Amelia laughed.

  “My first girlfriend,” she explained. “Erin. We wanted to go to the prom together, but we weren’t allowed to at our school. My mother was shocked that I even thought of taking a girl to prom.”

  “When did you come out?”

  “I was seventeen. Once it got out, the school wanted to expel me—it’s Catholic—but my father’s money made that impossible.”

  I set the photo down and walked over to her bookcase. She had a wide assortment of novels—mostly romances, I was amused to note—mixed in with books of artwork. I slid out a large collection of Albrecht Dürer and held it up for her to see. “I love Dürer. I went to a show of his etchings in Berlin a couple of years ago.”

  “I actually own a Dürer now,” she said, looking a little shamefaced about it, but also proud. “I’ll show it to you the next time you stay over.”

  I put the book back and then walked over to her, sitting next to her on the bed.

  “Have you had a lot of girls in here?” I was only half-joking. I didn’t know a lot about her past girlfriends, as she’d been cagey about talking about them since the moment we met.

  She laughed. “Only Erin. That’s actually how my parents found out I was a lesbian. They caught us together.”

  I winced. “Ouch. Talk about embarrassing.”

  “One of the scariest moments of my life. I actually thought my dad would kill her. Or me. For about a week, my mother looked like she was going to have kittens.” She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “It’s funny now, but Christ, at the time…”

  I kissed her, softly. “You don’t have to worry about being caught now. Your parents are busy.”

  Amelia kissed me back and then pushed me gently onto my back.

  *

  When we emerged from the house an hour later, the food was already out. Almost everyone was seated at one of the tables set up on the patio, so of course they noticed when we rejoined the party. I realized then that we should have taken a moment longer upstairs to compose ourselves a bit, as—if Amelia’s wild hair was any indication—it was clear what we’d been doing. I saw, to my amusement, that Amelia’s cheeks were slightly rosy with embarrassment, and when she noticed me looking at her, she squeezed my hand. We quickly walked over to the buffet table, and I realized that I was completely famished. Trying to give the crowd a moment to forget about us, I spent a long time carefully piling my plate as high as it would go, and Amelia laughed out loud when she saw my huge mountain of food.

  “Come sit over here!” Emma called when we turned around. She’d saved two seats at her table for us. Besides her boyfriend, Michael and Jenna were also seated at her table, as were Bobby and his three girls. We sat down between Emma and the oldest of the nieces.

  “You guys are insatiable,” Emma said, leaning close to whisper to us.

  Amelia swatted her playfully on the arm. “Oh, hush. I’ve seen the two of you at enough of these things to know you do exactly the same every chance you get. You’re just sore you didn’t think of it yourself.”

  Michael, affecting the haughty expression of authority, said, “Jenna and I would never think of desecrating such a sacred event.”

  Amelia laughed. “What about last Christmas?”

  Michael and Jenna blushed scarlet and we all chuckled.

  “What happened at Christmas?” I asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” Amelia said. “Let’s just say a certain older brother, a certain sister-in-law, and a certain mother were too indignant to eat dinner at the table that evening.”

  Everyone laughed again, and I suddenly realized I felt natural, almost completely like myself with her family. All of the dread from the last week, between worrying about Amelia and worrying about this party, suddenly seemed to have disappeared. While I was still on the fence about a couple members of her family—as they clearly were with me—I found Amelia’s dad and everyone at this table warm, welcoming, and charming. I didn’t know what I’d expected of her family, but it certainly wasn’t this group of friendly people.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  We danced for a while after dinner, and then I begged off, wanting to go home and rest for the evening. The week had been tumultuous, and, between traveling and working and worrying, I’d barely slept. Amelia had a hard time covering up her disappointment, as she’d wanted me to stay over, but I insisted on leaving. As a means of pacifying her, I’d agreed to let her come with me to see apartments the next day, though I’d originally planned to go alone with Meghan so we could catch up. I realized the error of double-booking when Meghan showed up bright and early the next morning.

  “What do you mean Amelia’s coming?” she asked, clearly miffed.

  “Well, not to all of them,” I said. “She’s only going to look at the ones Uptown with me.”

  “So I’m not invited to see those?” Meghan asked, her eyes blazing with fury.

  “Of course you are! It’s just that Amelia will be there too.”

  “I thought we’d get to catch up today. I hardly ever see you anymore.”

  “And we will! We have all morning and part of the afternoon for just the two of us,” I said. “Anyway, don’t you think you should get to know her better?”

  “I guess.” Meghan was clearly disappointed, but seeing my face, she suddenly smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m acting like a child. Of course it’s fine, and you’re right. I don’t even know the woman.”

  I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Meghan. I’m sorry. I should have just planned to meet her after.”

  Meghan shrugged, obviously still hurt, but her anger seemed to have dissipated. I had been avoiding her, and I’d felt like a complete ass about it for weeks now. While we hadn’t talked too much, Lana had become my go-to guide to lesbianism and relationships since I left New York. We had been texting back and forth and having quick chats most nights. I knew this was unfair to Meghan—just because she was straight didn’t mean that
she had nothing to offer as far as relationship advice, but Meghan’s barely concealed antagonism toward Amelia was off-putting. It was making me trust her less and less, even if she didn’t deserve it. Still, I wanted to preserve our friendship if I could, and I did feel bad about ruining our plans. But there was nothing for it. Amelia was joining us and that’s all there was to it.

  I excused myself to get changed, and, after a quick breakfast, we both walked over to the first apartment, which was only a couple of blocks from my aunt’s house. The first one was also close to my old haunts, but it was run-down. The landlord dismissed all of my concerns about the exposed, shoddy plumbing and crappy drywall, claiming that he would fix them before I moved in, but I knew better than that. Sometimes landlords in New Orleans will give you a discount on the rent to fix things yourself just to get out of paying for it themselves. Meghan had gotten herself into that situation before, and I knew this was a clue to avoid that landlord’s properties. The next place we saw was nicer inside, but on a slightly rougher street. While a lot of the Bywater has gentrified since Hurricane Katrina, a few streets were still less desirable. I wasn’t opposed to living on a street like this, but I also wasn’t thrilled, as I often came home late at night. The outside of most of the houses in the block here was covered in peeling paint or graffiti, and trash and junk littered the gutters.

  We saw two more similar places in the Bywater before going over to the Marigny. Here the problem was money, as the rents in this part of town were very high. I’d wanted to see what the fuss was all about, but, after looking at a couple of smaller apartments for almost double the cost of the larger places in the Bywater, I wasn’t convinced it was worth it. We had lunch at a combination laundromat/grocery store/diner before seeing the two places I’d arranged to visit in the French Quarter. The Quarter apartments were the most expensive and had the further drawback of being too close to the tourist areas of town. The Quarter is beautiful and it’s the city’s pride and joy, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a great place to live.

 

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