Nancy’s Theory of Style (19 page)

“That’s it? That’s your attempt at
convincing her? Don’t you have any secret Mary Poppins’ techniques?”

“I shall try again,” he said and turned
to the girl. “Miss Eugenia, if you do not take off that towel right now, there
will be no pudding for you tonight.”

To
Nancy
’s
amazement, the girl considered the threat.

“Chocolate pudding?”

“Yes, chocolate pudding. Chocolate of
some sort,”
Nancy
said and Eugenia permitted her to untie the towel. “Let’s change your top.”

“No.”

“You’ve made a mess of it.”

“It’s pretty,” Eugenia said, patting the
magazine cutouts.

Nancy
did a quick assessment and realized
that the company of one Derek would more than balance out the presence of one
Eugenia. “Fine. Let’s go to lunch.”

“And the park,” Eugenia reminded her.

Nancy
put another pair of socks on the girl
so the red boots wouldn’t slip on her feet, and then they walked to the shops. They
went to a corner bistro and were given a table by the window.
Nancy
sat beside Derek, so they could talk,
and Eugenia sat across the table.
Nancy
handed her a notebook and pen and said, “Draw dresses and shoes.”

Then
Nancy
looked out the window. “It’s
astonishing how many fashion crimes you see before your order is taken.”
Nancy
’s saw a young man
walking by and she said, “The faux-hawk, so over. That’s how Todd does his hair
when he goes out with his buddies. I always thought I could teach style, but
Todd actually thinks he has good taste. You’re lucky that
Prescott
is so chic.”

Derek smirked. It was a captivating
smirk. “I face the problem of keeping up with his impeccable standards, but I
borrow liberally from his wardrobe.”

“That’s why you’re so happy together,”
she said, although she wondered who Mel was. “It’s important to have the same
sense of aesthetics and values. That’s part of my Theory of Style.”

“Are you certain that Mr. Chambers
cannot learn from your finer judgment?”

“No, he’s terrified that someone will
think he’s gay, and I don’t see why. You don’t have any problem with it.”

Derek stared at the menu. “I think I’ll
have the grass-fed bison burger and pommes frites.”

She laughed. “I’m glad you’re speaking
American now. Let’s talk about Mrs. Friendly’s party. Do you think everyone
should wear period costumes? My instinct is, no, except for the actors.”

“I have a cape,” Eugenia said.

“What have you drawn?”

“A pirate ship.” Eugenia showed Nancy
and Derek her drawing, which consisted of primitive ovals with triangular
shapes.

“Hmm, a deconstructionist approach.”

Derek moved to Eugenia’s side of the
table and took a Rapidograph from his pocket. “Here,” he said, and drew a grid
of boxes with the fine black ink. “Draw a picture in each square and we’ll add
the captions, that is the story, later about the pirates.”

“Okay,” Eugenia said and Derek returned
to his seat beside
Nancy
.

She smiled at him and said, “I’d like to
hire a boat. We’ll have everyone walk out to the pier after a few hours in the
warehouse and then we’ll give them a ride around the bay and have fireworks.”

“Would you like me to find a suitable
vessel for hire, Madame?”

“That would be fab. We can have the crew
dressed as pirates, I think.”

Here she was a professional woman
discussing exciting business plans with her fabulous assistant. Looking out the
window,
Nancy
recognized a member of the ballet board. The woman glanced into the restaurant
and
Nancy
waved
hello. The woman turned her face away and kept walking.

The rebuke was as keen as a slap. “Did
you see that?”
Nancy
murmured.

Derek’s hand slipped under the table and
rested just above her knee. He gave a gentle squeeze. “The window there
reflects the street. I’d noted it myself as we came in.”

She shook her head and laughed. “I must
be getting paranoid. I’m imagining that everyone is out to get me.”

He pulled his hand from her knee and
said somberly, “It does no harm to err on the side of caution, Madame, to guard
yourself against those who might not have your best intentions at heart.”

“Do you mean Bailey? If we go out, it
will be completely platonic, like the relationship we have,” she said and
touched Derek’s long, elegant hand. “Did you get a good look at him at the
slumber party? He’s very good-looking, don’t you think?”

“I suppose women might find him so. He’s
not my cup of tea.”

“You don’t go for straight men?”

“I couldn’t be less interested in them.”

After lunch, they went to a chocolate
cafe and bought fleur de sel chocolate cookies.

“That’s not pudding,” Eugenia observed.

“Pudding means dessert,” Derek said. “Even
a boiled sweet can be pudding.”

On the way back to Chateau Winkles,
Nancy
paused in front of
the children’s store where she’d met Junie. She’d thought her friend would be
thrilled to have her nearby, but maybe they’d get together when Junie had more
time. Now
Nancy
looked at Eugenia’s shoddy boots. “We’ll just buy you some shoes,” she said. “And
some clothes that are not made with petrochemical byproducts.”

Derek paused at the door to the store so
Nancy
added,
“Why don’t we meet in half an hour? That should be enough time.”

When he came back 30 minutes later,
Nancy
was just coming out
of the store with a shopping bag. “She is nieceish and I have missed her
birthdays. Eugenia, do you like your new clothes?”

Eugenia was stepping carefully in a new
pair of red tennis shoes, staring at each foot. “I like my red shoes. Can we go
to the park now?”

“You are a monomaniac. Say thank you,
Aunt Nancy.”

“Thank you, Auntie Nanny.”

“Your mother can thank me properly when
she returns,”
Nancy
said, thinking that Birdie would show up this evening. “Yes, we’ll go to the
park. Consider it your first annual outing with your favorite aunt.”

Eugenia seemed happy to clamber up and
down the steep steps and she also liked petting the neighborhood dogs, allowed
to run amuck despite the numerous All Dogs Must Be on Leash signs in this
section of the park.

Nancy and Derek enjoyed the views out to
the bay. They didn’t talk much, just sat there in the sun and the fresh breeze.
Something fluttered on a nearby shrub and
Nancy
said, “Look, a butterfly! I love butterflies, don’t you? I’m always astonished
that something so beautiful can exist.”

“Indeed, Madame,” he said and they
watched the colorful insect before it flew away on the breeze.

Nancy
said, “I love this city.”

“I enjoy it more each time I visit.”

“I thought you lived here permanently. With
Prescott
.”

“Our paths take us apart for months at a
time, but I am here for the foreseeable future.”

She exhaled in relief. “So you
successfully live apart and then come together again? Perhaps that’s the key to
a healthy relationship. I never thought it would be so hard to live with a man.
My parents think I should compromise more with Todd.”

“When one is co-habiting, compromise is
necessary, Mrs. Carrington-Chambers.”

“I like it when you call me that. It’s
like Mrs. Thatcher, a voice of authority.”

“Or Mrs. Peel,” Derek said.

“Who’s that?”

“A character in an old programme called
‘The Avengers.’ She wore a skin-tight black leather, uhm what is the word for
it, a one-piece outfit?”

Nancy
smiled. “I know that catsuit! John
Bates designed it. He also created the miniskirt, even though most people think
it was Mary Quant, and bare midriffs, see-through panels, and PVC dresses. He
was a visionary.”

“Did you study fashion, Madame?”

“I wanted to, but my father refused to
pay for fashion design school. He wanted someone to follow in his footsteps,
and I was his last hope. My oldest sister, Blaire, is married and doing art
history post-doc work in
Germany
,
and Ellie is a vet in
Boston
.
I studied economics.”

“You could have survived on Pot Noodles
like many students.”

“I thought about it, but I realized that
I have a talent for appreciating design, but not for creating it. My cousin,
Sissy, has real talent and she’s starting her own design line,”
Nancy
said. “My talent is
knowing when something is beautiful and true. It calls to me. I recognized it
when I saw you.”

“You enjoy offering extravagant
compliments, Madame. No man could be worthy of such praise.”

“I’m serious. It was different with my
husband, because he’s not fabulous,” she admitted. “But everything else was so
right about us. We were so popular together.” She looked out toward the water,
remembering sailing parties, first nights at the symphony, ski weeks at his
family’s lodge, tailgaters, weekends surrounded by friends.

“How did you come to plan parties,
Madame?”

“I was a financial analyst, but I was
miserable being in a hideous office every day. I swear, the ‘corporate art’
used to taunt me. I used my wedding as an excuse to quit and found out that I
loved planning events,” she said, thinking of how happy she was to walk out of
that office tower for the last time.

Derek seemed to be actually listening,
so she said, “Something magical happens when the ambiance is right and people
are celebrating. It’s momentary and elusive, but it’s still important. I want
to think that helping create that shared joy is important.”

She smiled and said, “Then I got stuck
in the House of Horrors and here I am. The short and dull history of Nancy
Edith Carrington Chambers. We’d better go or I’ll be late for my meeting about
the warehouse.”

She and Derek collected Eugenia, who was
throwing a ball to a slobbery
Labrador
, and
walked back to the apartment.
Nancy
set the girl on the sofa to watch a cartoon about a smart-aleck cow and said to
Derek, “I know you will manage beautifully while I’m gone.”

“You are more confident than I, Mrs.
Carrington-Chambers,” he said with a look toward Eugenia.

“She seems to like you. Why shouldn’t
she? You’re irresistible,”
Nancy
said with a smile. “My opinion on these things is inflatable.”

“Does Madame mean infallible?”

“No, inflatable, likely to swell.”

“Things that swell are inclined to explode,”
he said. His mouth edged up a bit at the corner and she had a mad desire to
kiss him.

She bit her lip and then said, “I’ll
rely upon you to make sure nothing does explode.” She really needed to go out
with a heterosexual man because this was the dirtiest conversation she’d had in
years.

Nancy
’s meeting with the leasing agent went
well. They negotiated until they found a rental rate and conditions that suited
them both, but he was firm about a high insurance limit.

“I always get special events coverage in
excess of any possible damage,”
Nancy
assured him. “Not that you need to worry. I stringently control all aspects of
my parties.”

She drove back to the Chateau hoping
that Birdie had reappeared.
Nancy
wanted to celebrate with Derek --- celebrate the job, the warehouse, surviving
a day with a child.

She found him sitting with a sketchpad
beside Eugenia, embellishing her drawings, and saying, “If he’s a boy, why is
he a cow? He should be a bull.”

“He gots an under and cows got unders. Dinosaurs
don’t got unders.”

She felt sorry that Derek had had to
endure this blather. “Thanks for watching her. Birdie didn’t come by or call?”

He shook his head and stood. “No, but
Mr. GP called to say he was able to lease the sets and costumes under the
projected sum, and he’ll send you the logistics tomorrow. Was your meeting
satisfactory?”

“Yes! Now that it’s settled we can move
onto the invitations, caterers, staging, la la la. Did you find a pirate ship?”