Evvie at Sixteen

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  “Who spoke first?” Thea asked.

  “Nicky did,” Meg said. “He asked me my name. And I said Margaret, because that was what Aunt Grace insisted on calling me. And he said no, that wasn’t right for me. I should be called Daisy, he said. Had anyone ever called me Daisy?”

  “That was what your parents called you,” Sybil said.

  “They were the only ones who ever did,” Meg said. “And of course no one had since they had died. Not until Nicky. All his friends called him Nick, but he was Nicky to me, or Nicholas. And I was Daisy. I knew the first time we danced together that my life had no meaning without him, and Nicky knew that someday we’d be married. He told me so, before Clark stepped in to claim his dance. And I nodded because I knew he was right. From that moment on, the only person I lived for was Nicholas.”

  “But Aunt Grace tried to break you up,” Evvie said.

  Meg smiled. “She tried, but it didn’t matter,” she declared. “Nicholas was my soul. That didn’t mean I loved her any the less.”

  “Does everyone fall in love with someone who’s their soul?” Thea asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Meg said. “I know, I’ve always felt the luckiest of women.”

  Evvie looked at her mother and marveled not for the first time at her capacity to love and accept. And looking at Megs, she knew what she had to do.

  “I’ll go,” she said. “I’ll go tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Evvie,” her mother said. “I’m very grateful.”

  “Go?” Sybil asked. “Where are you going?”

  “To take care of Aunt Grace,” Evvie said.

  “How long will you be gone?” Thea asked.

  “For as long as Aunt Grace needs me,” Evvie replied. “Maybe the whole summer.”

  “Can I have your room then?” Claire asked.

  Evvie laughed. “It’s all yours,” she declared. “I guess there’ll be room enough for me at Eastgate.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  I am not a poor relation, Evvie told herself as she kissed her family good-bye. I am not a poor relation, she whispered as she boarded the train to Boston. I am not a poor relation, she hummed as she waited for the evening train to Eastgate. I am not a poor relation, she repeated endlessly as the train made stop after stop along the Atlantic coastline.

  Evvie tried convincing herself that she was the exact opposite of a poor relation, that Aunt Grace was the real poor relation. Not in terms of money, of course. Nicky claimed Grace was positively loaded, and nothing about Grace’s life-style argued otherwise. The live-in servants, the annual trip abroad, the summer cottage in the exclusive village of Eastgate, the stingy Christmas gifts. Grace Winslow was old money personified.

  But that didn’t make Evvie a poor relation. Poor relations went calling because they were desperate, and Evvie didn’t feel the least bit desperate. Terrified maybe, irritated, lonely, and tired, but not desperate. Nicky was the desperate one, and since he wasn’t there, he didn’t qualify for poor relation status, either. He didn’t qualify for any relation status, at least in Aunt Grace’s eyes.

  Grace was the poor relation because she was all alone. She’d never married, and had no children of her own. She’d outlived her brothers and sisters as well. And while she had nieces and nephews, the one she was closest to had to have been Megs, since she was Megs’s legal guardian. The spinster aunt had gotten the orphaned girl, and the two of them had shared a home from the time Megs was eleven until Megs had eloped with Nicky. If Grace had only been willing to accept Nicky, then the girls would have regarded her as a grandmother, rather than the forbidding great-aunt of family legend.

  Megs loved Grace though, and that was why Evvie was there. Not to maneuver her family into Grace’s will, no matter how much Nicky might dream. When her mother had come into her room, had helped her to pack her suitcase with her best summer clothes, and had kissed her lightly on the cheek and said, “Thank you. I feel so much better about Aunt Grace now that I know you’ll be there to help her,” Evvie had felt better.

  It wasn’t as if Megs had that much family, either. Evvie could spend a few weeks making an old lady’s life a little more pleasant. It was an act of charity on her part, and that was why she was nobody’s poor relation.

  “Eastgate!” the conductor called out. “Eastgate!”

  Evvie wondered what would happen if she stayed on the train until the end of the line. Would they let her turn around and go back to Boston, and then back home again? Would she be arrested for having ridden further than her ticket warranted? Who would bail her out? Not Nicky, she knew that.

  With a sigh, Evvie got up, grabbed her suitcase from the overhead compartment, stretched, and walked toward the train door. When the train jerked to a stop, her body jerked with it. But the suitcase steadied her, and she was able to get off with a certain amount of dignity.

  She stood on the platform for a moment, uncertain of what arrangements had been made. Was Mr. Baker, Aunt Grace’s caretaker, supposed to pick her up? And if so, how would she recognize him? Did caretakers wear uniforms? Evvie suddenly cursed her lack of knowledge of the old rich.

  “Evvie! Evvie, is that you?”

  Evvie turned around, and saw Clark Bradford walking down the platform in her direction. “Clark!” she cried. “Clark!”

  He reached her just as she was picking up her suitcase to walk toward him. “Evvie, you look beautiful,” he said, and embraced her. “More and more like Meg every day.”

  “Thank you,” Evvie said. “Oh, Clark, I’m glad to see you. I didn’t know who’d be picking me up, or if I should find a cab, or what.”

  “Meg and I had a dozen conversations today, trying to make arrangements,” Clark replied. “And I’m sure she had as many with the Bakers. We decided you should see a friendly face on your arrival. So I volunteered to take you to Grace’s.”

  “She is expecting me?” Evvie said, as Clark picked up her suitcase and started walking toward the staircase. She followed him gratefully. “I’d hate to think I was a surprise.”

  “Oh, she knows you’re coming,” Clark replied. “I visited her this afternoon and assured her it was true. The poor dear. She’s gotten a bit crotchety over the years, and this accident of hers really has her out of sorts. So pay her no mind if she goes on a bit about Nick.”

  “Oh great,” Evvie said. “Clark, what exactly did she say about my coming?”

  “Nothing at all for you to worry about,” Clark declared. “You know Grace never warmed up to Nick. He wasn’t her sort, that’s all. So she has trouble believing the promises he makes. In this case, that you would be on the evening train tonight. Or any other night for that matter. I’m sure Grace will find it a pleasant surprise to see you.”

  “She didn’t believe I was coming?” Evvie asked, and stood in the stairwell not caring to move.

  “She simply had her doubts,” Clark replied. “Evvie, she’ll be delighted. She’s been confined since her first day in Eastgate. She went on her daily constitutional, tripped over something, and the next thing she knew, her foot had ballooned to twice its size. At the hospital, they x-rayed her foot, found it had been broken, and put it in a cast—up to her knee.”

  “From what Nicky told me,” Evvie said, surprised, “I pictured her in a full body-cast.”

  Clark smiled. “They kept her in the hospital for observation for a couple of days,” he continued. “And then they sent her home. She was advised to stay off her feet completely, so she only hobbles around to get to the bathroom. She has a wheelchair, but the doctor doesn’t even want her using that for another couple of weeks. So she’s stuck in her bedroom, lying in bed, feeling lonely and miserable. She may not be in a full body-cast, but she’s a very old woman and it’s a terrible way to spend a summer. That’s my car, over there.”

  Evvie followed him to it. Clark put her suitcase in his trunk, and then opened the car door for her.

  “I’ve been checking often, of course,” Clark said. “I would anyway, it’s a
habit I’ve gotten into, but with her laid up, I try to look in morning and afternoon now. Of course Mrs. Baker is there, and the maid, but that’s still no company for Grace. Her friends drop by, but they’re old, too, and they can’t always be there. Naturally she didn’t want to get too excited about your coming, so she used Nick’s, shall we say lack of reliability, to keep herself from getting her hopes up. It can hardly come as a surprise to you that Grace finds Nick unreliable.”

  “I’m not shocked,” Evvie admitted. “Clark, I’m sorry. This morning I woke up and everything felt normal, and the next thing I knew I was packing my bag to come here. I’ve been in stations or on trains for close to twelve hours and I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I’m starving.”

  “Didn’t you eat in Boston?” Clark asked. “Or on the train ride here?”

  Evvie shook her head. “Everything was so rushed when I left,” she replied. “Nicky paid for my ticket and then he gave me a hundred dollar bill. I didn’t have the courage to try to break it anywhere. Isn’t that just perfect Nicky? He sent me off with a hundred dollar bill and three cents to my name.”

  “Are things all right at home?” Clark asked. “Or did you take their last hundred with you?”

  “We’re okay,” Evvie replied. “The trust fund check came. And Nicky has some schemes he’s working on. By the end of summer, we’ll be millionaires again.”

  “I worry about them sometimes,” Clark said. “Meg is my dearest friend in the world. And once I got over the heartbreak of her choosing Nick over me, I came to like him as well. You have to work very hard at it not to like Nick. And when you girls started coming along, well, you were the daughters I never had. I suppose it would have been different if I’d fallen in love again, gotten married, had a family of my own. But once you love Meg, no one else can ever be good enough for you.”

  Evvie nodded. It was a comfort to have Clark around. He knew most of what there was to know about the Sebastian family. She could tell Clark things she wouldn’t dare let anyone else know about. Much as Clark might love Megs though, Evvie could never picture her mother with him. Clark was dear old Clark, always smiling and kissing, handy with the caviar, willing to keep an eye out on Grace, generous with Christmas and birthday presents, happy to join in when invited, never resentful when not. Sweet lovable Clark. The old family pet.

  “I haven’t wished you a happy birthday yet,” Clark said. “I hope your birthday was a bit happier than the day after has been.”

  “It was very nice,” Evvie said. “It feels like it was a million years ago already.”

  “I wanted to get you something special for your birthday,” Clark declared. “Sixteen is such a special age. Meg at sixteen was extraordinary. Of course she was in the first blush of love, and that must have added to her loveliness.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Evvie said. “So I guess I’m going to have to be extraordinary on my own.” Her stomach growled in agreement.

  Clark laughed. “What would you like for your birthday?” he asked. “Other than a five-course dinner?”

  “I had one of those yesterday,” Evvie said. “Clark, I really don’t need anything.”

  “Think about a birthday gift, anyway,” Clark said. “And you can do me a favor, if you’re willing.”

  “Name it,” Evvie said. No favor she could do for Clark would ever begin to repay him for all he’d done for her family.

  “My young cousins are spending the summer with me,” Clark said. “They’re arriving on Wednesday with their parents. That’s my cousin Brad and his wife Vivienne. Brad and I never got along, but I’m very fond of Vivienne and she of me, and they needed a place to park their sons while they go off to Egypt on business this summer. Brad does something international and mysterious for a living, and Vivienne enjoys traveling with him. Since the boys are in prep school all winter long, it didn’t seem fair to dump them in a camp. Vivienne volunteered me. There’s certainly space enough in the cottage for them. And it’ll be fun, I suppose, having them visit. But frankly I’m not accustomed to having young people around the house, so if you could do something with them occasionally, it would be a great help.”

  “I’d be happy to,” Evvie said. She might as well baby-sit for little kids as for old ladies, she figured. If nothing else, they should provide a change of pace.

  “Wednesday then,” Clark said. “Come for lunch. It’ll give you a chance to meet Brad and Vivienne. Your mother would remember Brad. He summered here. He was a bit older than we were, went with a different crowd, but I’m sure he had a dance or two with Meg at the cotillions.”

  “Wednesday for lunch,” Evvie said. “If it’s all right with Aunt Grace.”

  “It’s fine with her,” Clark said. “I mentioned it to her already. She isn’t your jailer, Evvie. She’s going to appreciate your company, but she’ll hardly expect you to wait on her hand and foot. She has servants for that.”

  “Hand and broken foot, you mean,” Evvie said with a giggle.

  “Hand and broken foot, then,” Clark said. “But try not to make jokes about it in front of her. It bothers her that she’s laid up for the summer. Grace is a very active woman for her age. I think once you’ve spent some time with her, you’ll grow to like and admire her.”

  “I’ll certainly try,” Evvie said.

  “You’d better start trying right now,” Clark declared. “Because this is her cottage.” He pulled the car into a long circular driveway. Evvie stared at the house and tried hard not to laugh.

  “Cottage?” she said. “This is a mansion.”

  “Not exactly,” Clark said. “Mansions are ostentatious. Think of this as a large summer home.”

  Evvie raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. It was always possible that the inside was primitive, dirt floors, ragged curtains. For all she knew it had a thatched roof, and you could see the stars through the gaps in the straw. You should never judge a cottage by its outward appearance. But from the length of the driveway and the formality of its front entrance, Evvie had to conclude that she and Clark had very different cottage images.

  “Mr. Clark,” a woman said as she opened the door for them. “And this must be Miss Evvie.”

  “It is indeed, Mrs. Baker,” Clark said, and he ushered Evvie into the house. “Evvie, this is Mrs. Baker, your aunt’s housekeeper.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” Evvie said, and shook Mrs. Baker’s hand.

  “The pleasure is all mine, miss,” Mrs. Baker replied. “Miss Winslow will be so pleased to see you.”

  “Has she been running you ragged today?” Clark asked, putting Evvie’s suitcase down.

  “She’s changed her mind a hundred times over,” Mrs. Baker said. “I’ve stopped and started all day long. You’re to have your mother’s room, Miss Evvie. It’s all freshened up for you.”

  “Evvie could use a little freshening up herself,” Clark said. “And she’s terribly hungry as well. Could you work up a little sandwich for her?”

  “There’s cold roast beef and fresh baked bread,” Mrs. Baker said. “Would you care for some iced tea to go with that, Miss Evvie?”

  “That sounds perfect,” Evvie said. “Thank you.”

  “Why don’t I take your bag upstairs, and show you your room,” Clark said. “Then you can peek in on Grace. Miss Winslow is still up, isn’t she, Mrs. Baker?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mrs. Baker replied. “She’s been having trouble sleeping lately, poor thing, anyway, but she was determined to stay awake until her niece arrived. It’s a good thing you made the last train tonight, Miss Evvie. Otherwise I’m sure Miss Winslow would have kept herself awake all night long until the morning train arrived.”

  “I told you how excited Grace was,” Clark declared. “Evvie’ll be down for her sandwich in a few minutes, Mrs. Baker,” he said. “And save some of that iced tea for me.”

  “There are oatmeal cookies, too,” Mrs. Baker said.

  “Thank you,” Evvie said again. She followed Clark up the staircas
e, not knowing what she wanted most, food, a few minutes alone in the bathroom, or a guided tour. What she could see of the cottage looked wonderful: white walls, casually slipcovered furniture, and lots of windows. It wasn’t at all like Grace’s Beacon Hill home, where Evvie had spent a few miserable afternoons in her life. That house was Victorian formality personified. The cottage looked positively summery.

  “This is your bedroom,” Clark said, putting Evvie’s bag down gently. “It was Meg’s, the summers she stayed here.”

  Evvie looked around the room and thought she might start crying again. The room had soft blue walls and white lace curtains. The bed was a canopied four-poster, and the spread on it was antique crochet. There was a little chair with a blue and white slipcover, and the pictures on the wall were old botanical prints of flowers.

  Evvie had seen her mother’s room in Boston, and she could understand why she’d been so eager to give it up for Nicky. But this room was a delight, especially compared to the monstrosity she’d left behind. She wished her sisters could see it.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “There’s a view of the ocean from that window,” Clark said. “And of the gardens from that one. It’s my favorite room in this house, although, of course, Grace’s is the master bedroom.”

  “I think I should look in on her now,” Evvie said. “I hate to think I’m keeping her up.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Clark said, and he led Evvie out of her bedroom and down the hallway. “Grace, dear, here’s Evvie,” he said as he walked into Grace’s room.

  “Evvie.” Grace pulled herself up into a sitting position on the bed. “Come over here so I can have a better look at you.”

  Evvie did. Grace looked pretty much the same as the last time she’d seen her, ancient and formidable. She had pure white hair, a beak of a nose, and eyes that missed nothing and objected to everything.

  “It was very sweet of you to come,” Grace said, and she tilted her head in Evvie’s direction. Evvie took that as a command to kiss her, so she pecked her aunt’s cheek. The skin was surprisingly soft.