“What?” Evie asked, chuckling at the whole spectacle of subtle table turning for Mrs. Adams she had just witnessed.
“I’m just sizing you up, dear. Charlotte will be by with a dress in a few, and I’ll have Jacque send a few people over for hair and makeup.” She reached over and gently held a few strands of Evie’s hair up and examined it. “Black? I mean, darlin’, shouldn’t you have gone through the broody teenage goth years a long time ago. Lord knows you had enough going on to support it. You had the most beautiful blond hair,” her mother said dreamily, seeing her little girl as she remembered her from decades ago.
“Well, I like to go unnoticed, Momma,” Evie said with a bit of exasperation.
Her mother let the hair fall from her hand and gave her a know-it-all look. “Unnoticed, or unrecognized, honey? I’m no fool.” She kissed her own fingertips and blew it at her as she turned and walked to the door, opening it to let herself out. She turned and added, “And Evangeline…” Evie looked at her waiting. “Please be well behaved tonight. Regardless of everything that’s happened, and everything that’s going on now, I know your father’s going to be very happy to see you.” With that, she closed the door behind her. Her heels could be heard all the way down the grand staircase and out the front door where Evie was sure her assistant, Charlotte, was waiting.
PART 3
With twenty minutes to spare, the hair and makeup people Evie’s mother sent over finished. They packed up their gear and left out the back entrance as instructed by Mrs. Adams to make sure there would be no run-ins with help and guests. She looked at herself in the vanity’s mirror and let out a long breath. She never liked the way she looked with makeup. It always made her feel fake and over done, like she was trying to be someone else. She couldn’t recognize herself. She was grateful though, that for once, the makeup artists listened to her and kept it fairly simple save for a heavily lined eye and deep burgundy painted lips.
Evan laid on his stomach on her bed playing with a few plastic dinosaurs. She looked at the outfit his mother had selected for him: dark blue knickers cinched below the knee, red suspenders, and a white button down shirt. She looked at him in the mirror, thankful that his mother didn’t find a way to slap a few stars on his clothes too. Evie turned around in her chair to look at him directly.
“Okay, buddy,” she said, standing up in her long gray robe. “Mr. Burke should be here any minute to take you to your parent’s room. Are you all ready? Let me take a look at you.”
He sat up and shimmed himself to the side of her bed where he slid off. His little socked feet making a tiny, muffled thud as he landed, and then he put his hands out to his sides with a big grin on his face so she could see the whole get up.
“Wow! So handsome,” she said as she gently took one of his hands and started leading him through their bathroom into his bedroom. “But where are your shoes?” she said in an overly silly, appalled way that made him giggle.
He ran over to his closet and grabbed up a tiny pair of brown leather boat shoes. He turned to run them back to her, but had to stop once when he dropped one by accident and snatched it back up. When he handed them to her, she knelt down and picked up his right foot, leading it into the shoe.
“Are you excited, Ev?” she asked as she gave a gentle yank at the back of the shoe to pull it over his heel.
“Yeah! Is your mommy and daddy really going to be at my house today?” he asked with wide eyes and a wider grin.
“Mm-hm,” she said as her stomach give a little flip at the thought, and she finished getting his left foot outfitted.
“Will they let you stay up late for the whole party?” he asked, wide-eyed and wondering.
Evie let out a little surprised laugh at the question. “Well, yeah. Even though they're my parents, I’m grown up now and do things on my own. I can decided when I go to bed or if I want to go some where.” When she finished saying the last part she actually had to stop her face from frowning remembering from where most of their animosity stemmed. Plus, she was literally attending this party wearing something her mother picked out for her.
“Oh,” he said, a look of contemplation on his face as she could see he was thinking up more questions for her.
She stood back up, preparing to distract him with some other topic, when there was a soft knock at the door. Evan gave a little hop where he stood then took off to open it. Mr. Burke stood there in his usual uniform of black pants, crisp white suit shirt, and black jacket, all tailored to perfection.
“I’m here to escort a certain important person to the party. I heard he lived here,” Burke said seriously as he looked over Evan’s head three feet above him, and acted as if he couldn’t see him, looking back and forth.
“It’s me; it’s me, Mr. Burke! I’m here!” he shouted through giggles as he pulled at the cloth of Burke’s pants to get his attention.
“You? Evan! Oh my goodness, of course! I can’t believe it. I get you as my partner today?” he said, bending down slowly with a bit of hesitation only old age can give to your knees and looked him in the eye. “Well, you know what that means right?” he asked, glancing up at Evie for a moment. “We have to keep an eye on each other. So you are my buddy, and you have to stay with me and make sure I’m ok for the night, alright?”
“You? Ok!” His little voice was loud with the thought of being in charge of Mr. Burke.
“So let’s go. First we have to go see your mom and dad so we can all go to the party together.” He put out his big weathered hand and Evan reached up and wrapped his little soft one around his thick pointer finger, barely able to get his fingers around its circumference.
“Bye, Evie. See you at the party!” he said excitedly as his little feet danced all around.
“Bye, Evie. Don’t worry,” Burke said, giving her a direct stare. “I’m in good hands. Evan will never take his eyes off me.” She nodded her head at him knowing exactly what he really meant. No one was going to be with Evan alone.
Hand in hand they both headed out the door, and as they rounded the corner Burke shot back, “You look much better than you normally do at these things. Though the robe is a step up from the usual uniform they have you wear when you’re working, I don’t think it’ll fit the theme for the guests.” Then they were out of sight heading down the hall to the Adams’ main bedroom at their wing of the house.
Evie rolled her eyes and headed back to her room through the adjoining bathroom. No more avoiding it, she thought, and picked the garment bag up where she tossed it over the armchair when they had brought it to her from her mother. She laid it out across her bed next to the colorful dinosaurs Evan had left and unzipped it. She took a deep breath and grimaced, bracing herself as she threw open the white plastic.
“Jesus Christ, Mom,” she mumbled to herself as she looked down at the light, silky fabric expertly shaped into a flowing gown. She saw a note had been pinned to the hanger and she tore it off without thinking in aggravation.
You’re not going to be hiding
in the shadows tonight, Darling.
XOXO
It didn’t need to be signed. She could tell by the looping beauty of the handwriting that it was her mother, and she wasn’t surprised, but should’ve known better. It was wishful thinking to be put in navy blue, but she was definitely thankful her mother didn’t try and outfit her in a white gown. That would’ve been too obvious, even for her mother, but she still made the same point. Red was going to have all eyes on her, especially a red dress like this.
It was beautiful, but she never would’ve picked it. The silk organza billowed out at the skirt, giving it movement and body. A subtle slit up one leg to her mid thigh was lined with matching lace. The same lace was also wrapped around the waist, running down in strips the length of the skirt, and added to the straps that were set right off the shoulder to accentuate the wide V-neckline. You would think it was too much, but the famous designer who made it obviously knew what they were doing. It added to it so perfectly, takin
g nothing away, only leaving the person wearing it looking soft and feminine. Exactly the opposite of anything Evie would describe herself as.
When she put it on, it hugged her perfectly, and laid so lightly against her skin that she wasn’t even thinking about the fact she as going to have to spend a still summer’s night in a full length gown, most likely outside. She looked herself up and down in the full length mirror and shook her head a bit at herself. Her mother picked it out as something she’d want to see her daughter in and have her be seen in, but as always, she made sure Evie looked amazing. Her mind flashed back to her prom, inauguration dinners, graduations, weddings, and fundraisers she was dragged to during her childhood. Each one where she was carefully dressed in something her mother picked. None ever made her feel bad, on the contrary she always looked great, but they weren’t her. None of that stuff ever was.
She turned away from herself and to the shoe box sitting on the floor in front of the bed. When she lifted the lid, she saw a silk bag containing another choice that was made for her. When she slid them out of the cool, slick fabric, she sighed. Heels were never her thing either, but there was just enough on there to give her another three inches. She gave herself an hour tops of straight standing in them before she took them off. They were matching in a deep red, and simple, and she was grateful for that too. That was it. She wasn’t going to add jewelry. She didn’t need to carry a bag; she lived there. So there was no more stalling. She looked at her bedside alarm clock and saw the party had technically started ten minutes ago, but the slowly growing murmur of voices downstairs could’ve told her that.
As she took a deep breath and was ready to leave her room, she went for her bedside safe to get her gun, out of force of habit. Her usual musty A-line dress with Peter Pan collar she was made to wear to these things made it possible for a leg holster. This gossamer gown with a slit, did not. What did it matter; she wasn’t working tonight anyway. She was a guest. She laughed to herself, and grabbed her filled pack and hiking books. Carefully, she slung the large black backpack, a gift from Burke a few Christmas’s ago, over one shoulder so not to chance a tear in the lace strap of her dress. She’d drop it at the lockers and make a quick exit in the morning. Burke had convinced her Evan would be fine, and she needed the break. Then she walked out of the door closing it behind her.
She headed for the back staircase, thankful the door of her room was hidden down the hall, out of view of any guests looking up the grand staircase. The sounds of all the people: fake laughing, glasses clinking, silverware on tiny porcelain hors d’oeuvre plates was already giving her a headache. And the thought of having to politely face her father turned her stomach. But she kept telling herself she was doing this for her mother and the giant fuck you being given repeatedly to Mrs. Adams every time she saw her.
She slunk around the back to the gym and dropped her pack at the foot of her usual locker. Then, with no other choice, she walked through the kitchen. She was hoping the chaos of caterers and waiters would be enough to distract the normal staff of the house from noticing her, but crossing through a sea of white chef coats and waitstaff tuxedos in a red dress didn’t exactly blend inconspicuously. The chef caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye as he was giving instructions on the roasting pig spinning on a spit under the giant party tent set up in the back courtyard. He did a double take and then made eye contact with her. Evie’s expression was a mix of embarrassment and frustration, while his was plain confusion.
“You will explain this later, at our usual time,” he said directly, flapping a dish towel at her, then immediately turning back to the staff to give out the rest of the instructions.
She sighed in relief that she wasn’t going to have to explain something that had barely even begun to happen yet, and finished her trail to the swinging doors that led out to the main hallway. She slowly made her way out the door, giving her dress a tiny tug ensuring it made it all the way out before the door had a chance to close on it. The hallway was dimly lit to add to the illusion that the hand passed hors d’oeuvres appeared out of no where, as did the people carrying them.
The din of partygoers grew steadily louder as she crept her way down the hall out towards the large, open entryway. The slow pace she kept in those heels made her feel like a beauty pageant contestant, making her realize that she probably looked as ridiculous as she felt. The perfectly balanced lighting in the front hall had started to touch her toes and she stopped. She inched out enough to see the crowd around the corner.
A sea of forced color coordinated patriotism spilled into every corner of the giant front hall. Almost all the men were dressed in navy pants and a white button up suit shirt. A few with something to prove or a joke to make added extra star spangled flare: an American flag bowtie here, a line of white stars down blue suspenders over there, a coordinated pair of socks one with red and white stripes, the other blue with white stars, a hike of pant legs while standing feet together brought polite or fake laughter depending on your opinion of the man. The women were a bit more subtle, but not much better: a sequined flag clutch held by a woman in a white silk pant suit, one with a jewel encrusted brooch in Old Glory’s likeness, an older woman with a corsage of real red, white, and blue exotic looking flowers pinned to the strap of her blue dress. Then there was her mother.
In a corner close to the front door where everyone arrived, was Mrs. MacNamara. Surrounded by a troop of well versed political spouses and guests, she stood center stage. It was a true testament to her reputation, as well as her genuine magnetism, that she could barely get ten feet through the door before people came to flock around her. It almost seemed like it was her event they were attending. Evie found herself smirking as she watched her mother expertly return greetings, not missing a single person who came to her, seemingly everyone at the party so far. Evie found herself remembering parties she had attended that she hadn’t thought of for years, where her mother was left to do the same thing. She looked at her face thoughtfully, realizing age had reached her since the last time she’d seen her, but she was still as beautiful as ever and the best dressed there. The only person who would ever think to, or pull off, all three of the theme colors without looking gaudy. Her dress was a gorgeous tea length white classic piece with a slightly full skirt with a print of overlapping red and blue flowers that looked like they were painted on with watercolors. Where the different colored blooms laid over one another, they made a beautiful plum color, and I’m sure the addition of the purple was a conscious one on her mother’s part as another subtle, but intentional, middle finger to Mrs. Adams’ tacky party theme.
At the thought of Mrs. Adams, she stole a glance at the gold table top clock sitting on a designer console table behind the staircase. It was thirty minutes past the start of the party, which meant it was a few more minutes before Mrs. Adams, family in tow, would be making an overdone grand entrance down the overdone grand staircase to say a few, overdone fake grand words. A waitress passed her with a tray of champagne, and she grabbed one before the woman continued out to serve the guests. With each sip she took another step into the hall. When her first glass was empty, she caught the second just as she did before, right off a passing tray entering the crowd. By the time she drained that one she had made it a fourth of the way into the party, but clung to the outskirts against the wall. She caught the eye of a few people, the majority of which looked her up and down before giving her a tiny, tight and polite smile, then turned back to whisper about who she could be. The empty glass in her hand had become in danger of being squeezed to shattering, and she turned to face where she came from to avoid them seeing her roll her eyes. Suddenly the music set perfectly in the background for ambiance faded away. Quickly thereafter, the crowd fell silent and turned to the staircase. Evie took a few more steps into the room so she could see the family descend the steps, with Burke in her usual spot, trailing behind them out of sight, off and to the side, within arms reach just incase the child did something undesirable. When she
caught sight of Mrs. Adams, she was glad everyone was looking their way and not at hers anymore, because she snorted in laughter at the sight of her.
Mrs. Adam’s, hair coiffed big and flowing, was adorned in a shining white dress that would be more than just fine for someone to get married in, or apparently a summer political fundraising, high-end BBQ set for Labor Day, but then there was the back of it. Bustled up over her ass, flowing down into a few feet of train was what looked to be a ruched up American flag. When Evie looked closer, she saw the white of the stripes shining. It was made of silk, the blue was velvet, and the red was lace. Thankfully the woman had enough sense to not use a real one, but would anyone there really have cared about her dragging their country’s standard behind her on the ground, in the dirt, to be stepped on, if it was part of their idea of patriotism? No. Not there. It was their rules, of course, for their people.
Mrs. Adams daintily cleared her throat as her husband stood back and off to the side with his hands lightly on Evan’s shoulders. The little boy was sweetly grinning at all the people, just excited to be there. He noticed a cocktail waitress holding a tooth-pick adorned tray of sweet glazed meatballs. As he exclaimed and went to point, his well trained father slid his hand down his arm to still it, while his mother tightened her saccharine smile in subtle agitation and flicked a warning glance at them both. Then she began, arms outstretched like Jesus at the Last Supper.
“Esteemed guests, I am so grateful for your attendance to this wonderful Labor Day spectacular, all in the name of our country’s children. Everyone of your plates, that you have so generously sponsored tonight, will go to the well being and improvement of our great nation’s people. And what’s more important than that?” she asked rhetorically as the majority of the group gave her a little clap, and she ate it up with a faux humble bow of her head and innocent smile. “Thank you. Thank you. Before we move outdoors for the dinner where I let the main star of the night, the headliner if you will, I know he’s mine, and I hope he will be yours come election season.” She gave a sly wink that made a few of the white haired men chuckle. “Say a few words to you, I would like to say a few words to the spirit of this national holiday. As we take this day in tribute to the contributions of American workers who labored so diligently to help strengthen our great country, and still do, as well as help us prosper, I would like to speak of my own great staff here, that ensures our household runs like a fine oiled machine every, single, day.” She put on a very respectful, serious face. “As well as ensures that all the people in it, especially the most prized of my life-” She gave a wide eyed swoon at her husband and son, but most unsettlingly, as she looked away from them and back towards the crowd, she paused just long enough on Evie for her to notice the wickedness on her face. “-my family. So I would like to introduce some of our most proud and respected employees here, who deserve more accolades than just for that. Our proud to have served, veteran staff.”
Evangeline, Alone. (Book 1): Evangeline, Alone Page 36
