All Your Pretty Dreams (23 page)

The mother looked Jonny
over through squinty eyes heavy with makeup. “We appreciate your
driving her back,” she said without feeling. Or maybe that was her
feeling voice. She was brittle-looking with thin lips. Her dark
brown eyes though were warm like Isabel’s. She wore a tight black
dress and high heels.

“
Jonny is a musician,”
Daria exclaimed. He sunk back to one knee to examine Isabel’s foot
again. “He plays a mean accordion. Had us all jumping around, doing
the polka.”

The air seemed to leave
the room. Even the dishwashing paused.
Good old oompah, always the conversation starter.
Jonny bowed his head and examined his palms. What
a long, strange trip it’s been. But really, what had he thought,
except getting out of Red Vine? It’s not like he planned on
kneeling at the foot of a Bee Queen in a Winnetka mansion,
surrounded by rich folk.

“
He’s very good. The best
I ever heard.” Isabel wiggled her toes. He glanced up, puzzled but
grateful. The accordionist needs all the admirers he can get. But
didn’t she hate the squeeze box? He let her foot slip from his
hands. That kiss, the way she felt against him, all flashed through
his mind. She was smiling now, like she’d forgotten what she said.
What did she mean about Kiki? He looked into her eyes, trying to
figure her out.

“
How amusing for you.”
Isabel’s mother arched an eyebrow. “You make a living at
that?”

“
Just a hobby, ma’am.” She
wouldn’t like ‘ma’am,’ he knew, rubbing a spot of blood on his
thumb.

“
Well, thank you for—
whatever it is you’ve done for Isabel.” She turned to leave then
stopped. “Where will you be staying tonight?”

“
Here,” Isabel and Daria
said at the same time. Daria continued: “He can use the guest
room.”

“
Lulu and Chuck are
staying over.” Edie looked down at Jonny again, still kneeling like
a peasant. The mother’s voice could make you take up poverty
work.

“
The pool house then.
Nobody’s staying there, are they?” Isabel said.

“
Excellent idea,” Max said
quickly, giving a satisfied grin. Isabel’s eyes were closed and her
mouth was open as if she’d fallen asleep.

“
The pool house is free,”
Edie pronounced.

Chapter 16

Isabel woke up gasping,
throat dry as dust. She sat up, orienting herself to her childhood
room. Edie had redecorated it since she left home, at least twice.
Soothing taupe, she called this version, with a touch of wildest
Africa. Zebra pillows. Fabulous.

Swinging her legs to the
floor her foot throbbed. What was she wearing? A Cubs t-shirt from
somewhere. The foot was still very tender. What an idiot she’d been
last night. She hopped to the window. The moon shone in squares on
her bare legs. Downstairs the clock struck four times.

In the backyard the rose
garden was lit by moonlight. Edie and Margaret had one thing in
common, a love of roses. Edie of course had a fulltime gardener.
And she didn’t use chemicals. She listened to Isabel on that
subject. Or she’d discovered being “green” was a new trend among
do-nothing socialites.

Someone was out there,
between the cars. Isabel used the leopard print slipper chair to
hop to the other window. In the shadows Jonny put his head into his
car and pulled out boxes. He walked to the garage and stacked
suitcases, clothes, files.

He was leaving. His hair
looked blue the way it had that first night she saw him in Red
Vine, outside the motel. Of course he was leaving. She closed her
eyes and tried to remember the kiss. Did she say something about
Monica? Oh, God. A fuzzy memory— he had kissed her back, hadn’t he?
But kissing meant nothing when you’ve tried to drown yourself in
champagne.

He was sneaking away in the
middle of the night so he didn’t have to face her in the morning.
Didn’t have to lie to her face and say lovely to meet your charming
family. Especially lovely to see your shit-faced self.

Isabel pressed her forehead
against the glass. She would never see him again. She flattened
both hands against the window. Why couldn’t she be back in Red
Vine, with him, with the whole summer ahead?

Get serious. You scare men
off.

She told herself to grow up
then limped down the hall to the bathroom. With cold water on her
face and down her throat, she felt almost normal. Voices floated up
the stairs. She slumped down on the top step, bumping down the
stairs on her bottom until she could see into the living
room.

Edie sat by the fireplace,
a red blanket tucked around her in the white armchair. Her hair
hung loose around her shoulders. Her face was wet and her mascara
smeared. Aunt Lulu sat on the sofa, also wrapped in a blanket, also
looking teary. She was talking to Edie, her voice soothing and
low.

Remember when Mother took
us . . . He tried but … Your wedding… That time we… Venice. . .
Daria was born…

Edie’s shoulders shook as
she sobbed.

When Isabel appeared in the
kitchen in the morning, showered and feeling, well, not as bad as
expected, she found Daria and a dark-haired man in a short-sleeved
shirt drinking coffee. They were holding hands across the table.
Isabel ignored them, pouring herself coffee and drinking a good
slug of it, letting the caffeine do its job. Behind her they
whispered, heads together, while she limped to the refrigerator.
Orange juice was calling.

Daria hooted. “What are you
doing? Quit sneaking around and get over here.”

Isabel gulped her juice.
Unless she’d moved on already, this must be the guy Daria was
obsessing about. He was good-looking, with an open face and a wide
smile. Not a bad catch, assuming he made enough money to keep Big
Sister in the style to which she was accustomed.

“
This is Will,” Daria
said. Will Franklin stood up and gave her a sisterly hug. He
smelled like doughnuts. Surprised, Isabel almost fell over on her
bad foot. “Sit down, Iz. She cut her foot last night. It was a wild
party, for a funeral.”

Will held Isabel’s elbow
as she hopped to a chair. Very gallant. Isabel gave her sister
a
what-have-we-here
look. Will retrieved her coffee cup. “Were you here last
night?” she asked him.

“
I got in too late. San
Francisco, business stuff.”

“
He’s an architect, I told
you,” Daria said. To Will she explained, “There were tons of people
here. The whole funeral thing was very last minute. Edie had
everything planned for weeks and she just wanted to get it done.
He’d been sick for so long.”

Isabel remembered last
night, the sisters talking and crying together. There was so much
about her mother that was a mystery. For the first time Isabel felt
sorry for Edie. Not just because she was sad and grieving but
because she kept it all inside, locked away, except apparently from
her sister.

Will took Daria’s hand
again and squeezed it. Isabel felt embarrassed, for herself and for
her sister who usually disparaged romantic gestures. Maybe she’d
been cured of that. They were gazing into each other’s eyes.
Christ. She was in love! And so, apparently, was he! Right here,
over the fruit bowl.

Isabel stood up. “Gotta go
nurse the hangover. Nice to meet you, Will. I’m sure I’ll see you
at some other funeral.”

She had stepped into the
back hall when Daria skidded up, catching her arm. “What’s the deal
with Polka Boy?” she whispered.

“
What’s the deal with
Will?”

“
Shhhh.” Daria pushed her
toward the stairs. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“
Stunningly. When’s the
date?”

“
Oh, stop. But wait till
you hear this. Edie came into the kitchen this morning, looking
terrible by the way, like she’d been up all night. No makeup, hair
all stringy, I couldn’t believe it. I haven’t seen her without
makeup in twenty years. Will’s met her of course. We all had lunch
last week. So, I’m thinking, he’s going to freak when he sees her
without the mask. And what does he do? He’s very polite, offers a
‘good morning and my condolences’ then he takes Edie in his arms
and just holds her. For like two minutes!”

“
And she let
him?”

“
Yes! She was stiff then
she just melted. She was like a child in his big warm hug. He
totally snuggled her.”

“
Wow. He sounds like the
one.”

“
Oh, la.” Daria smiled
coquettishly then her eyes widened. “Did you hear that skank showed
up with her mother?”

“
Who?”

“
Monica Calhoun. She was
in the living room while you were getting your foot patched up by
Jonny Applebee.”

“
No.”

“
Oh yeah, with her mother.
They arrived just as people were clearing out. They were all
googly-eyed, like they’d never seen a house that was professionally
decorated. Edie almost sprung a leak. After Max took you upstairs,
I told Jonny she was here. So he goes out and chats up Monica, all
smiles and hugs. Like he
liked
her or something.”

Isabel slumped onto a
dining chair. Monica Calhoun, again. “What was she doing
here?”

“
I
know
, it’s like everywhere we go—
there she is. I guess her mother worked for Egon back, like,
fifteen years ago.”

“
Did you know
that?”

She shrugged. “He had lots
of companies. So she was his secretary. Fine, but she didn’t have
to drag along Monica. That bitch was wearing a dress cut up to here
and Jimmy Choo’s. Trolling at a funeral! Disgusting.” She
shuddered. “I have to get back to Will. Oh. Jonny came in to say
goodbye but you weren’t up yet. I gave him some coffee for the
road.”

“
When?”

“
Hours ago. I was up
because Will came over.” Daria ruffled her hair and gave her a kiss
on the cheek. “Wish me luck,” she whispered.

In the rose garden Edie
wore a big hat and garden gloves. Wielding a pair of clippers, her
eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. Isabel stepped outside,
limping on her bad foot on the flagstone path. What would her
mother do if she gave her a hug like Will had? It was too scary to
think about. Mist floated on the grass.

“
How’s the foot?” Edie
asked.

Isabel blinked, surprised
at the gesture of concern. “Sore but okay.”

Edie returned to the
flowers. “Your friend left your things by the garage. Move them
immediately. They’re blocking the door.”

——

Jonny pumped gas into the
Fairlane at a truck stop and checked his wallet. Isabel had never
given him that gas money but it didn’t matter. He’d spent almost
nothing in Red Vine, and was still getting paid. What worried him
were lawyer’s fees. He wished he didn’t have to go back. But he had
things to pick up, including the accordion, and people to say
goodbye to. It added two hours to his trip but there wasn’t any
choice.

He was surprised to see
Kiki Calhoun at the Yancey’s last night. A friendly face in that
decidedly unfriendly house, that must be why he agreed to meet her
this morning for coffee. She was fun to talk to, full of catty
comments about upper-crust Chicago. They met at a Starbuck’s in a
strip mall near the freeway. He read the
Tribune
until she arrived, half an
hour late.

“
What a kick to find you
there last night,” she said with milk foam on her lip. She wore
running shoes, and shorts that showed off her tanned, athletic
legs. “I can’t believe you drove Isabel all the way here. I hope
you got hazard pay. Why did you volunteer?”

“
Her car wouldn’t
start.”

“
You are too nice. Her
daddy would have sent a plane. Anyway, cheers to you. It must have
been exciting.”

“
She slept most of the
way.”

“
There’s a blessing. So
what did you think of the Yancey fam?”

In the morning sun her need
for gossip seemed not fun anymore, even ugly. “Where’s your
shadow?”

“
Frances? At Mother’s. We
drove up yesterday.” She leaned in, smiling. “The Yancey’s place is
gi-normous. They have staff, of course. Seven or eight, I heard. At
least.”