The House on Honeysuckle Lane (14 page)

C
HAPTER
25

T
he Lower Waterville Country Club's annual Evergreen Ball. Andie looked around the dining room that had been decorated for the event and suppressed a smile. She never thought she would find herself back here, the scene of all those uncomfortable family meals, when all she'd wanted to do was to go running out of the room, tearing off her restricting, irritating panty hose as she fled.

Still, it wasn't terrible being there now. The dining room was festive enough, even if the tree that had been given pride of place by the DJ was made of some sparkling white, no doubt toxic material and topped with a glittery red star.
Mom would shudder,
Andie thought, remembering Caro Reynolds's refined taste in decor.

“It's a real family affair,” Emma noted as they watched Rumi pass among the guests. Both Rumi and her father were acting as circulating waiters, and Anna Maria was acting as her husband's sous chef and supervising the club's kitchen staff.

“Waiting is hard work,” Andie noted. “I hope Danny can afford to pay his workers a decent wage.”

“I'm sure he pays them well,” Emma said. “Danny is nothing if not scrupulously fair.”

Except when he's being testy and unfair
, Andie thought, but she kept that thought to herself and instead admired her sister's appearance. Emma had had little problem putting together an outfit suitable for the Lower Waterville Country Club's big event. She was wearing a cream-colored cashmere sweater over a slim gray pencil skirt and houndstooth fabric pumps. Emma always looked effortlessly and perfectly put together. Obviously, she had gotten that talent from their mother.

“I stick out like a sore thumb,” Andie said. “Not that I thought there'd be anyone else here wearing a bright red dress with an image of Ganesh around the hem and Sanskrit printing across the bodice.”

“You're definitely more comfortable than that woman by the bar in that sequined number,” Emma whispered back. “How does she breathe? And she must be sweating like mad. I guess she's never heard the term ‘overdressed.' ”

A waiter approached the sisters with a tray of blinis topped with sour cream and caviar. Andie politely refused while Emma took one of the appetizers. Daniel hadn't provided many vegetarian options, Andie thought. Then again, there was a good chance she was the only vegetarian in this crowd. She knew she shouldn't make assumptions, but this one seemed likely to be correct. The men and women gathered at the party seemed to Andie all versions of her parents, respectable, conservative in their tastes and probably their politics, not the sort to want to be seen as different in any way at all. Well, Andie thought, each to his or her own.

“Here comes Rumi,” she said, as her daughter made her way toward them carrying a tray of appetizers. “No unpleasant guests I hope?” Andie asked when Rumi had joined them.

“Not so far,” Rumi said. “Sometimes a man can get gropey at these events, in a discreet sort of way, of course.”

Emma frowned. “That's disgusting. How do you handle it?” “I tell him, quietly, that if he attempts to touch me again I'll go straight to his wife. That type always seems to come with a wife. Poor woman. Imagine being married to a creep?”

“No,” Emma said. “I can't.”

“I'm sorry you have to deal with bad behavior,” Andie said. “It's so unfair.”

Rumi shrugged. “It could be worse. And I can take care of myself. Hey, Mom, anyone ask for an autograph yet?”

“No,” Andie said, managing a smile. “And I'd be happy if no one did, not at Danny's event. The spotlight should be on him.”

“Come on, Mom,” Rumi said with a laugh. “You love being sought after.”

Andie ignored her daughter's comment. “How's your father doing?” she asked. “I worry about him reinjuring his knee, carrying those heavy trays.”

Rumi rolled her eyes. “He's not a weakling, Mom. He's fine.”

“Still, you'll keep an eye on him?” Andie asked.

“He can take care of himself, too, Mom. He's never had a choice about it. Look, I have to keep moving.”

When Rumi had gone off Andie turned to her sister. “I think that comment about Bob's having to take care of himself was meant for me.”

Emma frowned. “You think? And that comment about your wanting to be sought after? She's definitely got a bee in her bonnet. I wish for your sake she'd just come out and say what's bothering her. She's toying with you, Andie, and I don't like it.”

Andie chose not to reply to her sister's comment. “The Evergreen Ball,” she said instead. “A euphemistic name for what amounts to a cocktail party.”

“It was a real ball at one point in time,” Emma pointed out, “with a live band, not a DJ spinning rap versions of classic carols. How do the older people here tolerate it? Anyway, there's no harm in keeping the name. The Evergreen Ball. It has a nice ring to it.”

“A nod to the past?” Andie said. “I'm not so sure that's always wise. But in this case I think you're right. There's no harm in a bit of nostalgia.” She remembered how she had felt when she had unearthed her mother's Lenox tea set earlier that day; the flood of emotion was too strong to be denied or tossed off as mere sentimentality.

“And we're here, so we might as well enjoy ourselves, and more of Danny's cooking. The meatballs are fantastic. Sorry. I know you can't eat them.”

“Not can't,” Andie said. “Choose not to. Look, here comes Bob.”

“Evening, ladies,” he said with a grin. “Can I interest you in a shrimp puff, Emma?”

Emma took one from Bob's tray. “Going well, Bob?” she asked.

“It's a job and not an unpleasant one.”

“Well, you look quite dapper in that white shirt.” Emma sighed dramatically. “There's something about a man in a buttoned down white shirt that always gets me. I know, how boring!”

Andie raised an eyebrow. “Not boring at all. You're drawn to the notion of restraint, to the idea of a man's reigning in his dangerous masculine energy with starch and cuffs and collar.”

Bob cleared his throat. “I'm glad I could generate such an interesting topic,” he said, “but I'd better get back to work. Mrs. Duran, the woman standing over by the coffee urns, the one in the bright green dress, has a thing for Daniel's shrimp puffs. She's already had four and she's been following my every step since I last passed her way.”

“I wonder if Rumi tells her father about the gropers,” Andie mused when Bob had gone off.

“My guess is no. What could he do about them anyway? Though he might be tempted to have a stern word with the offender.”

“I'd be tempted to do more than that,” Andie said, “and I'm staunchly antiviolence. When it's your own child at risk, pacifism tends to wear thin.”

Emma put a hand on her sister's arm. “Let's talk about something more pleasant. Like how silly that man over by the ice sculpture looks. Does he really think we can't tell he's wearing a toupee, and a bad one at that?”

“Now, Emma,” Andie said, with mock sternness. “We shouldn't make fun. But it is really awful, isn't it?”

“Do you remember that client of Dad's,” Emma said suddenly, “the man with the blindingly white teeth?”

“How could I forget? They looked as if they would glow in the dark. What on earth do you think he was putting on them to get that effect?”

“Bleach?” Emma shuddered. “I wonder what ever happened to him. He left Oliver's Well ages ago.”

“Whatever happened to him,” Andie said darkly, “I bet he's wearing dentures now.”

C
HAPTER
26

E
mma breathed in the chill December air. She had gone outside to get away from the DJ's questionable taste in holiday music only to find at least five of the party guests standing around smoking a cigarette or a cigar. She wasn't one of those people who demonized smokers. It was just that the smell had always made her feel slightly nauseous. So she had made her way around the building and down to the dock, where the boats gleamed whitely against the night sky.

Morgan Shelby hadn't made an appearance and, given the fact that the party had been in full swing for over an hour, Emma doubted that he would now. She was disappointed but not unduly so. She was having fun being at the country club, in spite of the bad music. Memories had begun to surface . . . people coming up to Cliff and Caro to say hello, to admire Caro's outfit, to shake Cliff's hand and thank him for his sound financial advice. For years Emma had enjoyed basking in her parents' reflected light. Once she became fifteen or sixteen, her interest in being her parents' satellite had waned and she found all the attention paid to them simply annoying. Who cared if Caro had gotten her dress at the Saks Fifth Avenue in Boston? Who cared if Cliff had saved someone a few thousand dollars on their taxes? Typical teenage crankiness, Emma had come to realize. Nothing more than that.

After a few minutes in the night air Emma went back inside the club. She didn't want to leave her sister on her own for too long. There had been a lot of talk in Oliver's Well back when Andie took off to study in the East, leaving Rumi with her father. Emma was already living in Annapolis by then, but Maureen had kept her posted and Caro herself had been openly critical of Andie's decision. Cliff, as always, had said little, but often enough his silence spoke volumes.

Not that her sister couldn't handle criticism or worse, condemnation, but she certainly didn't deserve either. Thankfully, the people they had spoken to that evening had been nothing less than gracious.

“I'm back,” Emma announced, joining Andie, who was seated at one of the small white-clothed tables set around the periphery of the room.

“Got your fill of fresh air?” Andie asked with a smile.

“Yes. And I love looking at boats bobbing at their moorings. There's something so peaceful about the sight.”

“If you're not the type to be seasick,” Andie pointed out.

Emma laughed. “Look,” she said. “There's Danny. He's finally emerged from the kitchen to make a round of the guests.”

Emma watched her brother with admiration. He had successfully forged a unique and important place in Oliver's Well and the neighboring towns. And she thought again about what her life would be like if she did decide to move back home. She probably wouldn't be joining the country club—she and Andie were the youngest guests that evening by a good ten years—but she would have to become a genuine part of the community, and that would take some effort. The burning question remained: did she want to make that effort?

“Working the room, shaking hands, no doubt graciously accepting compliments. Danny's a bit of a celebrity himself.” Andie nodded. “You know, I think that's why he wanted us here, to prove that to us. To prove he's done well for himself. To make us sit up and take notice.”

“I think you're right. It's kind of sweet, really,” Emma said. “Little Danny still wanting to make his big sisters pay attention to him. Like the time when he found a fifty-cent piece when he was about five and wouldn't stop showing it to us. You'd have thought he'd found a cache of diamonds he was so excited.”

“Or the time he won that poster contest at school. I think the theme was conservation of forests or water.”

“Gosh, I'd forgotten about that. He talked about winning that contest for weeks! But it wasn't bragging as much as it was making sure we'd noticed he'd done something good.”

Andie smiled. “It was pretty cute. But it shouldn't matter to Danny at this point in his life what we think of him. His opinion of himself should be important. Providing it's not too distorted, of course. You know, one branch of Buddhism teaches that only if we can see through the delusion of an individual self will we be able to experience nirvana. But I don't think nirvana interests our brother all that much.”

“Doubtful,” Emma agreed. “And the bottom line is that our good opinion does matter to Danny whether it should or not. Of course, he'd be the last person to admit it. I wonder if it's always that way with the youngest child, wanting to be recognized by his older siblings.”

“It seems likely.” Andie sighed. “Honestly, I don't know why Danny would want my good opinion when he seems not to have much respect for me these days. But desires and needs among family members are complicated things, ever variable.”

They certainly are,
Emma thought. Daniel had been perfectly nice to their sister at Caro's funeral. Whatever had changed for him seemed to have happened only recently, within the past fourteen months. But nothing ever stayed the same. Daniel would get past this current state of dissatisfaction; he
had
to get past it. Emma only hoped it happened soon. Andie would be the first to say that their brother's belief that people never lived up to his expectations would make him increasingly miserable.

“We've got company,” Andie said under her breath. It was a moment before Emma could put a name to the vaguely familiar faces of the couple coming toward them.

“I don't know if you remember us,” the woman said, extending her hand first to Emma and then to Andie, who had both stood. “Marcia and Terry Parker.”

Mrs. Parker was wearing a dark green A-line dress with a red and brighter green silk scarf artfully draped around her neck. Diamonds sparkled in her ears. Mr. Parker looked dapper in what Emma would have put money on was a Brooks Brothers blazer—navy, of course—white dress shirt, red tie, and gray wool slacks.

“Of course,” Emma replied. “I went to school with your youngest son, Robin. It's so nice to see you both again.”

“And I went to school with your middle son,” Andie told the couple. “Ned.”

“Oh, it's so nice that you remember!” Mrs. Parker glanced around the room and then looked back to Emma and Andie. “It's a nice party, isn't it?” she went on. “Not what it was in the old days, but then again, everything changes and so often not for the better.”

Mr. Parker made a noise of agreement and smiled at the Reynolds sisters.

“And the club is certainly not the same without Cliff and Caro Reynolds.” Mrs. Parker put her hand to her heart. “They really lit up a room. It was such a tragedy they died as young as they did.”

Mr. Parker spoke for the first time. “Now, Marcia,” he said, “there's no need to—”

“Yes,” Andie said. “It is a tragedy.”

“Will you be selling the house?” Mrs. Parker went on. “It's such a lovely place. I used to drive by just to see Caro's garden. I suppose someone's been tending it since—”

“Yes,” Andie said again. “My brother has been wonderful about taking care of everything.”

Mrs. Parker clasped her hands before her. “It's so lucky,” she said, “that Daniel stayed on in Oliver's Well, especially with you girls moving so far away and you, Andrea, living such a carefree sort of life.
Someone
had to be there for Cliff and Caro, even if it was the son and not one of the daughters.”

Mr. Parker cleared his throat in a meaningful way. “Marcia, we really should say hello to the Bakers.”

“Are they here? Well, good-bye, girls. It was so nice to see you both again.”

Mr. Parker led his wife away by the elbow.

“Not the most tactful woman,” Emma commented. “Or the nicest.”

Andie sighed. “Oh, she's all right. So many people start babbling or say the wrong thing when someone dies. I'm sure she didn't mean to be insensitive.”

“Maybe not. Look, here comes Danny.”

“Enjoying the party?” he asked. He was wearing a chef's coat, pants, and clogs. His face was flushed and Emma thought he looked almost exuberant.

“The music could be better,” she said with a smile, “but the food is wonderful.”

Andie nodded. “You've outdone yourself, Danny. And not for the first time, I'm sure.”

“I saw the Parkers descend on you a moment ago. He's a sweetheart, but she can be a bit . . .”

“Yes,” Emma said. “She can. She thinks Andie lives a carefree sort of life. I wasn't aware such a thing existed.”

Daniel grimaced. “But she did tell me she'd never tasted a more delicious preparation of ahi tuna in her life, so I personally can't complain.”

“One of your legion of fans,” Andie said.

Daniel laughed. “I don't know if I have an entire legion, but I do have some.”

“So, no complaints?” Emma asked her brother. “No one claiming the chicken satay is undercooked or the savory tartlets are too salty?”

“Not that I've heard, but I'll quiz the staff when we're through here. Someone might have picked up a critical comment or two. I do try to pay attention to the comments, good and bad. It's the only way to learn.”

“Unless the commenter is completely uninformed or simply a troublemaker,” Andie pointed out.

“You've probably had your fair share of people going after your work,” Daniel said. “And worse than Mrs. Parker.” Emma thought he sounded genuinely sympathetic. She was pleased. Andie had been enough of a punching bag lately.

“More than my fair share,” Andie told them. “I've been called everything from a quack to a criminal. But you try to keep your focus away from the haters and firmly on the people you've touched in a positive way.”

“Easier said than done,” Emma remarked.

“Thanks for being here tonight, guys.” Daniel briefly put a hand on each woman's shoulder. “It meant a lot. Well, I'd better get back to the kitchen. I'll see you both tomorrow.”

Daniel walked purposely off to rejoin Anna Maria and the other kitchen staff.

“We were right,” Andie said with a smile. “He did want to show off for us.”

Emma slipped her arm through her sister's. “I think we can go home now,” she said. “And you must be hungry. Let's raid the fridge. I think there's a pint or two of ice cream in the freezer with our names on them.”