Keep Your Mouth Shut and Wear Beige (34 page)

She entered my room a little hesitantly. “I came to say goodbye. I’m leaving. There was an unfortunate family emergency.”

“A family emergency?” That surprised me. She’d never mentioned any family. “I’m sorry. . . . Who is it? I’m afraid I don’t know anything about your family.”

“There’s nothing to know. I haven’t had any contact with them for years. This is an excuse. I think it would be easier for everyone if I weren’t around.”

That was certainly the truth. “Is Mike taking you to the airport?”

She shook her head. “He offered, but I’d rather use the car service. I wanted you to know that everything is set for the dinner. I left all the paperwork on the kitchen desk. I can’t imagine that there will be any problems. Mike has my cell-phone number, but please don’t let him call me. I can’t be involved.”

She sounded sad, and although she was facing me, she was once again not looking at me. But this time she wasn’t ignoring me, she was avoiding me, dreading what I thought of her. All the air had gone out of the vinyl Bobo doll.

And I was too tired to be angry. “I know how disappointed you must be.”

“No,” she said softly, “I don’t think you do. I don’t think anyone can. Yes, I do care about the dresses and the article.” Her voice grew a little firmer. “Those dresses represent weeks and weeks of unremunerated work, but that was a business decision that didn’t work out. I can accept that. It’s harder to accept what’s happening with Mike because I don’t know what I could have done differently.”

“Is it over between the two of you?”

“He’s too polite to say anything this weekend, but it is. Of course it is. I can’t look at him again without remembering that I disappointed him, that he felt the need to apologize for me.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“But I won’t.” Now she wasn’t even facing me. She had turned to the window, unable even to pretend to have any direct contact. “I so badly wanted this relationship to work. It was my reward for working so hard all these years. You can’t know how hard I’ve worked. All week long I’m at the computer or sewing machine. Then I spend all my weekends packing and unpacking sample garments, staying in the best room in the midpriced hotels that sewers choose. For years I’ve been making all these gorgeous clothes for myself and had no place to wear them. Then I met Mike. He took me to plays and parties. Yes, the parties were fundraisers where I didn’t know anyone, but I was there, and I had never been
there
before. Then the Zander-Browns and the house in the Hamptons—this is what I had always dreamed success would be like. I was so amazed on New Year’s Day that you didn’t want to go to those open houses because you didn’t know anyone and would never see any of them again. That seemed so trivial to me.”

I shrugged; I didn’t know what to say.

“I did hear you this afternoon,” she continued, “when you said that my whole life was online. That’s right. When I’m home, unless a client is coming for a fitting, I can go days and days without speaking to a person face to face. But knowing people on the chat lists and blogs is enough. It may not get me invitations to parties, but it’s what I’m comfortable with . . . and maybe you’re right that I need to be in control like that, but that’s who I am, and I don’t want to change. I don’t want to compromise. If I went on learning to play golf, that would cost me as much in lost income as
those dresses. It isn’t worth it. I can’t be you. I can’t play flashlight tag.”

Nobody wanted her to be me. But family life would require her to compromise, accommodate, not think of everyone as her audience silently admiring her performance. That was not going to happen. She was too afraid of what would happen if the audience didn’t approve.

I stood for a moment, silent and awkward, unsure of what to say. “I hope things work out for you. Do take care of yourself.”

“That I will do,” she answered. Then she glanced at her watch and left the room, closing the door behind her.

It was Rose, calling from the hospital. “Oh, Darcy, I know I’m waking you up.” She was half whispering. “But I finally told myself that it was okay.”

“Of course. Of course. You know it is. Do you want me to come to the hospital?”

“No, I just need to talk. I’m with Finney. I’m finally putting it together. You saved him. If it hadn’t been for you, he would be . . .” She couldn’t say it.

“I wasn’t going to let him die, Rose. And it wasn’t just me. Dad talked me through it and Zack was great. I was so proud of him.”

“How did it happen? You said Claudia and the photographer took the fanny pack. But we were there. Why didn’t we notice?”

“Because they made sure that we didn’t.” I reminded her how Finney had been clinging to her, blocking her “unifying diagonal.”
The photographer’s assistant had taken him aside. “That’s when it happened, and because he had that blazer on, none of us spotted it afterward.”

“I suppose they thought that his fanny pack was ruining the pictures.” She was having trouble keeping her voice low.

“Yes.”

“And if someone had been on oxygen or wearing a Medic-Alert bracelet, that would have ruined the pictures. Torturing Annie wasn’t enough. Not only did Claudia give Finney the water, she took away his EpiPen. Oh, God, Darcy, maybe I’ll forgive her someday, but I can’t imagine how I’m going to come home tomorrow morning and face her.”

“You don’t have to. She’s left. She had a family emergency.”

Rose exhaled. “That’s a relief . . . no, I don’t mean that, not about her family emergency, whatever it was. What was it? I never heard her talk about any family.”

“She doesn’t have any, at least none that she sees. The emergency was simply an excuse.”

“Well, good. I’m not going to let myself think about her. But I do need to know everything that happened with Finney. Did it hurt when you cut into him? No, no, start from the beginning. Tell me everything.”

So I did. I gave her every detail that I could remember: how we had had to reroll the tablecloth; how Zack had put his phone on speaker so that we could all hear Dad; how I suddenly remembered the illustration from the textbook. She asked question after question. And then I found myself remembering more; how the chef had brought three knives from the kitchen and I had chosen the smallest; how someone had brought three bottles of vodka from the bar in case we needed to sterilize the field with Grey Goose; how the dark-haired waitress, the one who had helped the most, had whispered to me afterward that she had always dreamed
of being a nurse. She was trying to save her tip money for school. I hadn’t remembered that until now. Rose asked me her name— which I didn’t know—and what she looked like. “Don’t let me forget to tell Guy about her,” Rose said.

The Zander-Browns were, I guessed, going to do one small bit toward easing the nationwide nurse shortage.

That had to be one of the best parts of having money, to be able to turn to a very deserving young woman and say to her,
Yes, if you are willing to do the work, here is your dream
.

Then Rose and I talked about Annie. “I keep asking myself why she didn’t come to us,” Rose said. “Ultimately, I think she was trying to protect me. She didn’t want to cause me a lot of trouble. Can you imagine how guilty that makes me feel? Here she knows that I went to the ends of the earth for Finney, and I’ve spent a year twisting myself into knots over this wedding. So she took this enormous risk rather than bother me.”

“She probably didn’t think it was as risky as we would.”

“No, but still . . . Did you hear her saying that we couldn’t cancel the wedding because I had worked so hard? And that’s what Cami and Guy were thinking about it. That Mom’s little project had to be protected and patronized? How did I get here? I thought I was supposed to be able to do both—to take care of my children and work. And then Finney was born, and I couldn’t. It wasn’t just an issue of having the time; I didn’t have room in my brain for anything else. I’d read a manuscript and not have any insight into whether it could be fixed. So I told myself not to worry, that as soon as he was settled in a school, I could go back then.”

But Finney had settled into his school last year. This would have been her year. “Back at the restaurant we were talking,” she continued, “and you said you were scared at the thought of not working in a hospital. That’s why I’ve thrown myself into planning this wedding. I was scared about what I was going to do
next, scared that I might not be able to do it anymore. As much as I disliked all the lists and phone calls, that was better than having to face what I was going to do with the rest of my life.”

I wasn’t going to tell her that I was sure her skills would come back. What did I know? But they certainly wouldn’t come back if she didn’t try.

“Look here,” I said. “By nature you’re a Mary.” I reminded her of the Bible story. “You’ve been a Martha for eight years, and one thing about Marthas is that we don’t quit. We might whine, feel sorry for ourselves, spin our wheels, and appeal to Jesus to get us more kitchen help, but we don’t quit. You never quit on Finney, so don’t quit on yourself.”

“I was doing that, wasn’t I?” She sighed. “But there may be hope. Guy got me Mrs. Gaskell, and I’m doing okay.”

“Mrs. Gaskell? Is that a private nurse?”

“Oh, no,” she said, laughing. “She’s a Victorian novelist. He had someone pick up
Wives and Daughters.
I hadn’t read her in ages. Apparently my problem all these years was that I only ever had one child in the hospital. Now I have two, and I’m able to read one of the Victorians. That must count for something.”

Friday evening was the nonrehearsal dinner. Mike took a carload of bridesmaids over early to check on the arrangements at the restaurant. Guy came with me. He didn’t particularly like to drive at any time, and the Hamptons traffic made him crazy. I had backed my car around and was reminding myself to look for the shoes I’d left at the restaurant when Jill Allyn Stanley’s beat-up BMW turned up the drive.

Guy got out of the car, in part to greet her, in part to keep her from parking us in.

“Have you checked in already?” he asked. She was staying at
the nearby inn. “We’re about to leave for the dinner. Do you want to hitch a ride so you don’t have to drive home?”

“I would love a ride,” she said as she went around to the back of her car. “But I need to shower and change first.” She lifted a big suitcase. “You can wait, can’t you?”

“No,” he said. Her request was absurd. Couldn’t she see that we were thirty seconds from leaving? “Darcy and I need to get there early. And why the suitcase? Aren’t you staying at one of the inns?”

“Well, I was, but I called Mary Beth, and she said that Rose’s sister’s family wasn’t coming, so it was okay if I stayed here.”

Guy paused. And kept on pausing. I glanced over at him. I had a feeling that he had just put his poker face on.

“No,” he said deliberately. “Mary Beth may have told you that Holly wasn’t coming, but she wouldn’t have invited you to stay here. She wouldn’t have done that.”

“Maybe she didn’t
say
it”—Jill Allyn was disconcerted by Guy’s tone—“but it would have been obvious . . . I mean, the room was empty, and you know how well I work in that room.”

“I don’t think that this is an ideal weekend to plan on getting a great deal of work done.”

“Well, no . . . I guess not.” Then Jill Allyn collected herself and went on the attack. “Rose said something to you, didn’t she?”

“No. What would she have said?”

“Oh, I don’t know . . . she’s been on sort of a power trip ever since you got this house.”

Guy blinked. “I beg your pardon? A power trip? Rose?”

She was startled by his tone. “Oh, come on, Guy, you know what I mean.”

“Actually, no. I do not know what you mean.”

“She’s been complaining to you. I knew it. That’s so petty of her. She’s gotten so
small
.”

I had to think that Rose had had it worse than me. Claudia had simply wanted me not to exist. She thought she could get away with ignoring me. Jill Allyn want to humiliate Rose.

“She has not said one word to me about you,” Guy say to Jill Allyn. His voice was firm. “She wouldn’t. But I hope you haven’t canceled your other reservation, because, except for the bridesmaids, we’re sticking to the original plan. We’re only having family at the house.”

“But, Guy,” she protested, “I
am
family, you know that. I’m Rose’s best friend.”

“Then why aren’t you at the hospital with her?”