Viva Vermont! (3 page)

DJ nodded silently, but her eyes were still locked on Taylor and Eliza. Fortunately, they were being separated by several of the other models and some of the fashion show helpers. Grandmother was fanning herself with her notes and looked as if she might faint. How on earth was she going to get out of this little mess?

3

BUT GRANDMOTHER,
being Grandmother, managed to maintain her usual sense of style and confidence. She even attempted to make light of the fiasco, saying things like “girls will be girls.” Then she asked the stunned audience to forgive the girls for their foolishness.

“I suppose they simply wanted to liven things up a bit,” she said finally. “I had encouraged them to keep the energy up.” She laughed, but it was an uncomfortable laugh. “And with that in mind, where is the music? I believe it's time to start this up.” So the music began once again, and the next model emerged.

In the holding room, DJ realized that she never had completed her whole run, not that she cared. And certainly no one could blame her now. In fact, she felt fortunate that she hadn't been seriously injured.

“What happened out there?” asked Rhiannon with wide eyes. She was just finishing getting her outfit on. “I heard the commotion, but I was still in my underwear so I missed everything.”

DJ gave her the lowdown.

“No way!” exclaimed Rhiannon as she slipped into her shoes.

Then Taylor joined them. “Can you believe what that witch did to DJ?”

“She really did that?” asked Rhiannon with disbelief. “She actually tripped her?”

“I saw her do it with my own eyes.” Taylor glared over to where Eliza and her mother were now having what looked like a pretty heated conversation in a far corner of the room. “While DJ's cane was in the air, Eliza gracefully swung her foot directly at it, which is why the cane missed the floor and why DJ did her little acrobatic act.” Taylor grinned at DJ. “That was quite a flip you did off the runway, Deej.”

“You really did a flip off the runway?”

“I guess … or more like a somersault …” DJ was still watching Eliza and her mom and, although she couldn't hear anything, she could tell by their expressions that Mrs. Wilton was not the least bit pleased with her daughter. In fact, DJ suspected that the mother had observed Eliza's little stunt as well.

“Don't look now,” DJ whispered, “but I think Eliza's mom is on her case for tripping me out there.”

Naturally Taylor turned and stared, but fortunately not for too long. “Wonder of wonders …” she said with some satisfaction. “I think you're right.”

“Taylor Mitchell on deck,” called one of the helpers from the front now.

“Come with me,” demanded Taylor. Then she grabbed DJ by the arm and actually tugged her along.

“Why?”

“Because you still have to do the runway.”

“But I—”

Taylor gave DJ no chance to argue. Before DJ knew what hit her, Taylor had tossed her cane aside, linked arms with her, and they were walking the runway
together
. There was no way DJ could get away without hurting her leg. Fortunately, Taylor paced herself so that DJ could keep up. Taylor held her head up with a smile that simply oozed confidence. And DJ, despite all her insecurities, tried to imitate her.

Grandmother looked surprised, but recovered quickly. “Well, isn't this sweet,” she said. “Our lovely Taylor Mitchell is helping my own granddaughter, Desiree Lane. Such a thoughtful girl! Some of you may know that DJ recently broke her leg while rescuing a little boy … perhaps you read about it in the paper?”

The audience broke into applause now, and Grandmother looked extremely pleased with herself as she began to describe DJ's outfit in detail.

“It seems only fitting,” said Grandmother as DJ and Taylor reached the center of the runway and paused, “that Crescent Cove's royalty should participate in today's fashion show. Some of you may have missed it, but Desiree Lane was crowned homecoming queen last night.” More applause. And to DJ's relief, Taylor slowly maneuvered the turn, which actually turned out to be somewhat graceful.

Finally, after they finished their paces, Taylor escorted DJ back to the holding area. But DJ felt bad that there hadn't been time for Grandmother to describe Taylor's outfit.

“There ya go!” Taylor handed DJ her cane, then grinned and waved as she headed back out and did her own walk. DJ stood on the sidelines to watch. This walk was much faster, bigger strides, one foot in front of the other, and with such amazing confidence, she could've easily passed as a professional model. Even more pleased, Grandmother now gushed about Taylor. “And here's a little something you may not know,” she added. “Taylor's mother is the famous jazz musician Eva Perez.” The crowd seemed appropriately impressed. Then Grandmother continued to describe the outfit with enthusiasm as Taylor strutted back and forth. Naturally, this was followed by even more applause—in fact it seemed to be a thunderous applause—like maybe Taylor would be crowned queen of the fashion show. Not that she didn't deserve it. She probably did.

“Way to go,” said DJ, giving Taylor a high five as she returned to the holding area. “You were awesome out there.”

“Thanks. I better go change.”

It seemed everyone in the room was moving at fast speed now. Girls were in various stages of dress, all hurrying to be ready for their next runway walk. And, despite all her complaints, DJ felt a little left out as she moved to the sidelines. Eliza's mother had disappeared, and a sulky Eliza was changing into her next outfit. She obviously had no intention of abandoning the fashion show. Or maybe her mother wouldn't allow it. Still, DJ wondered how Grandmother would react to her next run. Then again, knowing Grandmother, she wouldn't bat an eyelash. After all, Eliza was a beauty. Wasn't that all that mattered, really?

DJ glanced over to where Taylor was making final adjustments on a gorgeous red silky dress. She looked amazing. She notice DJ watching and tossed her a wicked grin, like she knew she looked amazing. DJ gave her two thumbs-up, and Taylor winked.

Okay, DJ had to wonder. Was it possible that Taylor had planned that whole thing simply to get some more limelight? Oh, not the part where Eliza tripped DJ, or how the two girls got into the subsequent fight … but what about the sweet little escorting of the poor disabled girl down the runway? Did Taylor see her opportunity and snag it? Or was she genuinely trying to be helpful? Who could tell with someone like Taylor? And yet, DJ had been touched by the seeming act of kindness. She wanted to believe that Taylor really cared about her. Who knew that Taylor had it in her?

“Despite some young ladies' efforts to spoil things today, the fashion show was a total success,” announced Grandmother at dinner that night. “We raised more money than ever before.”

Everyone at the table clapped, including Eliza's parents, who had surprised Grandmother by joining them for dinner. DJ had overheard the intense conversation between Grandmother and the cook and housekeeper at the announcement late in the afternoon.

“We will be dining formally,” she had informed them. “And I expect a delicious six- to seven-course meal.” Well, the end result was calling out for catering service. Still, Clara and Inez were expected to put everything together and serve this meal “with perfection.” DJ couldn't help but feel sorry for them.

This dining development came after the wealthy Wiltons spent about an hour “in conference” with Grandmother this afternoon. DJ knew that they were considering pulling Eliza from Carter House, and DJ had actually hoped that it would happen. Perhaps it would help to bring peace to their chaotic household. Because, despite Eliza's “sweet” smiles and compliments, she seemed to have a real streak of meanness beneath.

But after their conference, the Wiltons seemed somewhat appeased. How Grandmother had managed to reassure them that she was not running a sloppy establishment was a mystery. But apparently she had.

“Desiree,” Grandmother had said quietly as she caught DJ heading upstairs that afternoon. “Please inform the girls that we are dining formally tonight. I expect them to dress accordingly, and I expect everyone to be on their best behavior.” She frowned at DJ. “Is that perfectly clear?”

DJ shrugged. “Clear enough. I'll let them know.”

Grandmother smiled then, patting her hair as if a single styled hair might possibly be out of place. “Thank you, dear. I am in need of a little rest.”

So DJ had told the other girls what was up, and, although they had complained, everyone had complied. As they sat around the formally set table, DJ thought they'd all make a good ad for a food and fashion magazine, not that she knew of such a thing. Anyway, Grandmother should be appeased. General Harding had joined them as well, sitting at the opposite end of the table from Grandmother and looking very pleased with himself.

The turkey bisque soup had barely been served (and to DJ's relief, this was not tasting like their typical low-fat, low-cholesterol, low-calorie fare), when Eliza's mother used her butter knife to ding on her crystal glass. The table grew unusually quiet. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “But Eliza has something to say to everyone.”

Eliza sat up straighter and looked around the table with what seemed a contrite but not completely genuine smile. DJ got the distinct feeling what they were about to hear had been carefully rehearsed.

“I want to apologize to everyone,” she began in her soft, lilting Kentucky drawl. “And particularly to Desiree.” She smiled at DJ now. “I simply do not know what came over me today, except that I was probably having a severe case of pea-green envy.” She sort of laughed, probably in what might be described as a “southern genteel” sort of way, but it grated on DJ's ears. “I am truly sorry for creating such a spectacle at the fashion show, and I hope that y'all can find it in your hearts to forgive me.” Eliza looked at Taylor now, but DJ couldn't see her expression, only Taylor's, and it didn't look very convinced. “And I apologize to you too, Taylor. I should not have reacted as I did. Please, forgive me.”

“Well, of course we forgive you, Eliza,” said Grandmother happily. “As I said, girls will be girls. And although I'm training you girls to be ladies, I must remember that Rome was not built in a day. We have made progress, but we still have a long way to go yet.” Then she turned to the Wiltons. “However, I was quite encouraged to hear from some of my New York friends. They were very impressed with the Carter House girls, and felt that some girls might have a future in the fashion industry.”

Mr. Wilton frowned now. “It's fine for Eliza to learn to act like a lady, if that's actually the case, but we would never approve of her taking up modeling as a profession.”

“Although she might dabble with it a bit,” added her mother. “Just for fun.” She smiled at Eliza now. “It does seem like fun, doesn't it?”

Eliza sort of shrugged. “Oh, I don't know … I doubt that anyone would take me seriously out there.”

“Oh, don't be too sure of that,” said Grandmother. “Based on some of the remarks I heard today, there is some very serious interest.”

“Well, I'm far more interested in seeing Eliza maintaining good grades,” said her father. “That's more important than fashion.”

Grandmother looked slightly stunned, but said nothing. “You must be pleased that Eliza got the starring role in our musical,” said Kriti positively. More than ever, it seemed Kriti was Eliza's biggest fan.

“Really?” Mr. Wilton peered curiously at his daughter. “I hadn't heard about this.”

“Oh, I thought I mentioned it to Mom.”

“Which musical is it?” asked Mrs. Wilton with interest. “South Pacific,” said Kriti.

“Ooh, I loved that movie,” gushed Mrs. Wilton. “Eliza, why didn't you tell me about it?”

“I thought I had.” Eliza smiled and shrugged in what seemed faux humility.

“Eliza is playing the nurse,” said Rhiannon.

“Nurse Nellie,” offered Kriti. “And she's really good.”

“Wonderful,” said Mrs. Wilton. “I can just see you in that role, Eliza.”

“Yes,” said Kriti. “She's perfect for it.”

“And I'm playing Liat,” said Taylor, perhaps a little too smugly. “Remember the island girl who Lieutenant Cable falls for.”

“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Wilton. “The talking hands song.”

“That's right.”

“And Taylor has a beautiful singing voice too,” said Rhiannon, which DJ thought was unnecessarily gracious since Taylor had sort of blackmailed her way into a role that had originally belonged to Rhiannon. But to be fair, that was really Casey's fault. Whatever.

“When will the performances begin?” asked Mr. Wilton.

“The week following Thanksgiving,” said Rhiannon. “Thursday through Saturday.”

“Oh …” Mrs. Wilton looked disappointed. “We'll be back in France by then.” She glanced at her husband. “But maybe we could hop back.”

He nodded and smiled. “We wouldn't want to miss it, would we?”

DJ wondered what it would be like to have a full set of “original” parents who were that interested in their daughter's life. Oh sure, they weren't interested enough
not
to put her in boarding school, but their willingness to hop across the Atlantic Ocean just to see her in the school play was impressive.

DJ felt an unexpected pang of longing now. Of course, she knew that if her mom was still alive, things would be different. Very, very different. But she also knew that it was out of her control, and all she could do was move on and make the best of it.

“Not to change the subject,” said General Harding. “But I wanted to invite you girls to use my lodge next month.”

“That's right,” said Grandmother. “General Harding has generously offered us the use of his lodge for Veteran's Day weekend.”

“And if we're lucky, there will be skiing by then,” he told them. “I hear the forecast is for a lot of early snow this year. What do you girls think?”

“Ooh,” said Eliza. “I love to ski.”

“And I love to snowboard,” said DJ.