On Ocean Boulevard

by Mary Alice Monroe

  Tonight, she was ready for a party. For the past month she’d avoided her old friends, not because she didn’t like them but because she needed time to land back in town and get her bearings before facing them. With her internship and this sporty car, Linnea had gotten her groove back. She felt good about her decisions, and the create your own narrative plan felt truer now. Plus, with her tan from all the beach walks and surfing, she definitely was ready to face her old friends. But first, she was picking up her new friend.

  She didn’t stall once as she buzzed along Middle Street to Marshall Boulevard into the Jameses’ expansive driveway. The monolithic white house rose up before her, as cold and uninviting as ever. She gave two quick beeps on her horn that sounded nasal, even cartoonish. A minute later the front door flung open and Pandora came rushing down the long flight of stairs, her impossibly high heels teetering on each step.

  Pandora flung her arms out dramatically as she drew near the car and called out, “Darling, whatever are you driving!”

  Linnea lowered her sunglasses and stared at the vision before her. Pandora had cut her long dark hair to bob length in the back and it angled longer below her chin in front; it was highlighted dramatically, so it now appeared more blond than brown. In her chic flowing pants with the wide belt and a midriff silk top she just looked cool. Edgy. But with a sweetness behind the pretty that made you want to like her.

  “Who are you?” Linnea asked.

  “Very funny. What do you think?” Pandora asked, twirling on her heel.

  “I hardly recognize you. You look even more gorgeous, if that’s possible. Very posh,” Linnea said, using one of the few British words she knew.

  “I decided I needed a makeover. Something more, I don’t know, fun.”

  “Maybe a little too. You’re not in the Hamptons, you know. This is the lowcountry. We go for Lilly Pulitzer and pearls around here.” She stared pointedly at the large Lucite dangling earrings and dramatic ring.

  “All the better. I like to stand out.”

  “You will,” Linnea said softly as Pandora climbed into the car. Her legs were so long her knees drew close to her chest. “You can push the seat back.”

  Pandora looked on the door for a switch.

  “Uh, no,” Linnea said. “It’s that bar under the seat. Lift it and push back.”

  “How… vintage,” Pandora quipped. She found the bar, and with a whoosh the seat pushed far back, stopping with a thump. She burst out laughing. “Well, this is an adventure.”

  “Meet the Gold Bug. It was my grandmother’s car but it has less than fifty thousand miles on it, can you believe it? It’s a gem.”

  “The Gold Bug. As in Edgar Allan Poe?”

  “High marks for you. You know I love anything vintage.”

  “I do indeed,” Pandora said, eyeing Linnea’s hunter-green shirtdress, a wide belt cinching her waist. “Is the dress your grandmother’s too?”

  She’d meant it as a joke, so it gave Linnea great pleasure to nod and answer, “As a matter of fact, it was. The pearls too.” She lightly touched the strand around her neck.

  Pandora slipped on her large sunglasses. “If I’d known there was a theme to the night, I’d have borrowed a frock from Granny James.”

  “You mean you didn’t?” Linnea deadpanned.

  Pandora burst into laughter and Linnea joined in as she pushed the gear into reverse.

  “Buckle up, girlfriend. It’s going to be a bumpy ride. I’m just getting used to manual transmission.”

  The Gold Bug purred as Linnea traveled to the Ravenel Bridge. The girls loved driving with the top down, catching the gazes of passersby and the occasional toot of a horn. Going uphill, however, the old car showed its age. Cars zoomed past them on either side.

  “Won’t it go any faster?” called out Pandora.

  “I’ve got the pedal to the metal,” Linnea called back. She made as if she were cracking a whip and called out, “Go, go!”

  Pandora began rocking forward, joining in the chorus, “Go, go, go!” as the little car chugged at no more than fifty miles per hour. They laughed hilariously as they puttered across the bridge, the soft summer air blowing through their hair. The sun was setting over the glistening river and Charleston’s spires loomed in the city. Whenever a car honked, they smiled and waved back cheerily.

  Linnea knew her way around the city and took shortcuts to the Battery, where some of Charleston’s greatest historic houses fronted the harbor. She circled the neighborhood until she found a place to park a few blocks away from the party’s address, then put up the ragtop with Pandora’s help.

  “I’ve grown rather fond of the bug, but I fear it’s been misnamed,” Pandora said, pushing down one of the roof fasteners.

  “Oh?” Linnea asked, locking the door.

  “Yes,” Pandora said, checking a fingernail. “The Gold Bug is a bit ambitious. Perhaps the Road Buzzard is better suited.”

  Linnea squelched a laugh. “Shhh, don’t hurt her feelings,” she said with a pat on the roof. “Dear old car.”

  “Posh neighborhood,” Pandora said, looking about.

  “The best,” Linnea replied as they began walking along the crooked sidewalk.

  Pandora grabbed Linnea’s arm to steady herself in her spiky heels. Linnea walked slowly, admiring the streets she hadn’t seen since she’d moved back. She knew every house in this neighborhood. She’d run along the tall walls of the gardens as a child to get to her friends’ houses, climbed the large oak trees that arched graciously over the cobbled streets. The neighbors knew her name. She’d never felt lost or alone in these streets growing up. Yet, like her parents, many of the families had moved away in the past decade, the homeowners either retiring or dying or simply taking advantage of the skyrocketing home values. Linnea paused to admire one of the window boxes overflowing with flowers.

  “I grew up here. I used to live a block away.”

  “Really? Whyever did you move?”

  “I didn’t,” she replied. “My parents moved. Short answer, it was the right decision at the time.”

  “It’s utterly charming. This is the Charleston I’ve read about. History, beautiful, important houses… reminds me of home.” She sighed. “I could get used to living here. Maybe I’ll find some handsome young man tonight who will sweep me off my feet,” Pandora said with a wry smile.

  “Or vice versa,” Linnea said. She looked at the arching trees and the meticulous gardens. “I love it here. But honestly? I prefer the beach.”

  “To each her own.”

  They’d turned onto East Bay and immediately felt the brisk, salty breeze from the harbor. Linnea guided Pandora across the street to stand at the tall wall that bordered the harbor. From this vantage point she pointed out Fort Sumter in the distance and explained how the first shots of the Civil War were fired there.

  Turning, Pandora took in the elegant, showy beauty of a row of pastel-colored houses. “This is lovely,” she said.

  “This area is called the Battery, named after an artillery battery during the Civil War.” She smiled wryly. “Also known as the War between the States. Or the Incident of Northern Aggression. But this here is called Rainbow Row for the thirteen colorful historic houses. Come on.”

  As they walked, Linnea felt she was surrounded by a history lived by her ancestors. She felt again that sense of belonging that stirred her consciousness. After a brief walk she stopped in front of an antebellum house the same color as the rosy sky over the Charleston Harbor. The house enjoyed gorgeous views from the three-story bay windows, and sea breezes from the patio and piazzas.

  “Here we are.”

  Pandora looked up at the house and smiled with contentment. “Lovely,” she said. Then she turned her head to face Linnea and said, “Oh, by the way, I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a plus-one.”

  Linnea looked sharply at her friend. “Pandora, you didn’t. This isn’t just some party. It’s an engagement party—held in his parents’ home. Very private.
You’re my plus-one; that’s how I could invite you.” She puffed out her cheeks. “It’s really not acceptable.”

  “It’s not a sit-down dinner, is it, darling?”

  “No—”

  Pandora waved her hand. “Then no worries! I promise you, my friend will fit in. He’s quite dishy and well-mannered. I’ve been dying to connect with him. He hasn’t asked me out and I’ve been flirting shamelessly. So rude. I simply had to use this opportunity. It’s the first singles party I’ve been invited to since I’ve arrived.” She made a sad face that looked bizarre with all her elaborate eye makeup. “Truly, Lin, I am sorry if I’ve overstepped. Forgive me?”

  Linnea swallowed her frustration. “Of course. It’s just… a bit awkward for me. Coming with another man. You see, the man who is engaged is someone I used to date. Darby Middleton. Actually, he proposed to me and I turned him down. He thinks it was because of John. It wasn’t, but you can see how awkward it is now that I’ve broken up with John and show up with another man.”

  “Well, that is a juicy story. But you aren’t showing up with a man. You’re showing up with me.” She tucked her arm through Linnea’s. “You worry too much. Come on, let’s go in. I’m dying for a drink.”

  The front walk was immaculately manicured with boxwood and a pair of black iron urns overflowing with summer annuals. Linnea couldn’t count the number of times she’d strolled up the stairs to the Middletons’ front porch. Their families had shared dinners, holidays, dances, and proms. Darby had been her date for her debut at the St. Cecelia Ball, the most coveted social event in Charleston. Only sons of members could invite a young debutante to the ball, and their parents had made the arrangements when Linnea and Darby were in middle school. Their families had planned on the two marrying, joining two historic families. It had taken a long while for Julia to forgive Linnea for breaking up with Darby. She wasn’t sure Darby’s parents had ever forgiven her for what must have been perceived as a slight.

  Standing at the front door, Linnea looked out at the harbor. She breathed deep the salty air, smoothed her dress, and pulled her lipstick from her purse. Finished, she caught Pandora’s amused glance. Linnea half-smiled and shrugged, then rang the bell. A uniformed maid opened the door and directed them to the party on the second floor. It was customary in historic houses for the ballroom to be located on the second floor where the breezes and breathtaking views of the harbor made warm evenings pleasant. Wood paneling and Tiffany-designed details caught the attention of Pandora as they made their way up the stairs.

  As they entered the party, it was quickly apparent to Linnea that no one would have noticed if she came with anyone, because no one noticed her at all. All eyes immediately went to Pandora. Tall, stylish, flashy, she was a flamingo amid a flock of marsh hens. As Linnea had predicted, there was a lot of Lilly Pulitzer or some version of the same. Her friends were all pretty and fashionable, but no one had the striking, Paris Vogue vibe that Pandora did.

  “Linnea, you came!”

  Linnea turned to see Ashley Porter hurrying across the room, weaving between guests. Sweet Ashley, she thought. Ashley had been a classmate and longtime friend. Impeccably groomed with her shoulder-length blond hair, slender figure, and blue eyes, she was the perfect choice of a bride for Darby. Linnea was truly happy to see Ashley smiling with such delight.

  They hugged, and when she drew back, Ashley proudly showed Linnea her engagement ring. It was a beautiful ruby with an equal-size diamond on either side.

  “It’s beautiful,” Linnea told her.

  “Isn’t it amazing? It was Darby’s grandmother’s,” Ashley said, then brought the ring close to her heart. “That makes it all the more precious.” She looked from her ring to Linnea with apprehension. “I wanted to call you,” she began in a rush, “to tell you about the engagement myself. But I didn’t have your number in California, and it wasn’t something to write in an e-mail, right? And, well…” She made a worried face. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it because… you know… you and Darby—”

  “No, not at all,” Linnea exclaimed, trying to put Ashley’s worries at bay. “That’s ancient history. Darby and I dated in high school. My God, we still had acne! We were children. We’re just good friends now, and I couldn’t be happier. I was just thinking how perfect you are together.”

  “Really?” Ashley appeared both relieved and eager to believe it. “I’m so glad. I mean, I didn’t want anything to come between us.”

  “It couldn’t.”

  Then Ashley gave a wide, slow smile and gently bumped shoulders. “You never had acne. You always had the best skin, but it was nice of you to say that.”

  “Linnea!”

  Linnea turned at the familiar voice to see Darby standing behind her. He was as handsome as ever in his seersucker suit and pale-blue shirt that brought out the remarkable blue of his eyes.

  “Darby.”

  Darby slipped an arm around Ashley and brought her closer. “Haven’t I got myself the best bride?”

  “Indeed. Congratulations,” Linnea told him. “I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

  “I’m a lucky man,” Darby said, smiling down at his intended. Then with a wink at Linnea, he added, “Dodged a few bullets to reach her, eh? I’m kidding.” He laughed and looked up, sweeping a shock of his blond hair back from his forehead.

  Linnea merely smiled.

  “Yes, sir, my parents are thrilled,” Darby continued. “We’re having a big wedding at St. Philip’s. Reception at the Yacht Club.”

  Linnea’s smile remained fixed. She’d received the invitation and remembered that it was the wedding Darby had told her he’d wanted them to have. Darby had his life planned out for himself. His wife was but one piece of the puzzle. She smiled at Ashley, glad it was her friend who had accepted that role, and not herself.

  “They bought us a house over near Hampton Park,” he continued in a tone that was boastful. “It’s a beautiful house, isn’t it, love?” he asked Ashley.

  She nodded dreamily. “Oh, it’s amazing.”

  “In Charleston?” Linnea asked. “What happened to moving to Columbia?”

  He raised his brow. “I did a two-year stint there. Now I’m back and going to work at my father’s law firm. Keep up, Linnea.”

  She shrugged amiably.

  “So, where’s your California surfer dude?” He looked around the room.

  Linnea ignored the barb. “John? He’s not here.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “We broke up.”

  Darby’s face stilled for a moment. “You broke up? When?” he asked sharply. Then, noticing that his reaction had drawn Ashley’s attention, he added with an urbane smile, “I mean, I hadn’t heard. Did you, honey?” he asked Ashley.

  Ashley clearly felt uncomfortable with Darby’s reaction. She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. So,” she asked Linnea, “if John isn’t here, who is your plus one?”

  Linnea looked across the living room and spotted Pandora holding court with a half dozen young men clustered around her. She almost laughed as she pointed. “That woman over there surrounded by all the men. Pandora James.”

  Ashley spotted her and giggled. “I wondered who she was. Look at those boys. I swear, she’s like Scarlett O’Hara at the barbecue.”

  “She’s not from around here,” Darby said.

  Ashley’s laughter pealed. “You think?” she asked him.

  “England,” Linnea replied. “Don’t let her looks fool you. Beneath all that beauty lurks a brain. She’s an engineer.”

  “Amazing,” Ashley said again.

  “No kidding,” Darby said, and took a long sip from his drink. “So,” he said to Linnea. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Linnea blithely shook her head. “Nope.”

  Darby took another long drink.

  “Hey, I’m monopolizing your time,” Linnea said. “You’re the celebrated couple. You need to circulate. I’m off to the bar. Congratulations again. And love to your par
ents,” she called out as she walked away.

  Darby’s reaction to the news of her breakup was getting awkward. And she desperately needed that drink. There was a cluster of people around the bar and she waited her turn, greeting couples she knew, catching up. As nice as it was to see her old friends, she felt a gulf widen between herself and them. She’d gone off in a different direction while so many of them seemed to have stayed in the same place. Coming back home, she wasn’t sure her square peg would fit into this round circle.

  When at last it was her turn at the bar, she did a double take. “Annabelle?” she exclaimed.

  Annabelle, dressed in black pants and white shirt with a black bow tie, looked startled at seeing Linnea, a bit embarrassed, but recovered quickly and smiled. “Hey, Linnea. I should’ve known you’d be here.”

  Annabelle’s husky voice was always unexpected for someone so slender. “I didn’t expect to see you. Behind the bar, at least.”

  “Yeah, well.” Annabelle quickly wiped a spill on the bar. “It’s tough to earn enough to live on the peninsula. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”

  Linnea felt a slight bump against her shoulder and looked to see that Pandora had wiggled through the line to reach her side.

  “God save me,” she said wearily. “I need a drink!”

  “Didn’t one of your admirers bring you one?”

  “They kept bringing me chardonnay. Ghastly stuff.” She looked over to Annabelle. “A whiskey on the rocks. Please tell me it’s good.”

  “We only have Maker’s Mark, which is a bourbon whiskey made in Kentucky. In my opinion it’s the best. And”—Annabelle lifted a brow—“it’s stronger than most others.”

  “In that case, make it a double.” Pandora squinted and, pointing a blue painted nail, asked, “Don’t I know you?”

  Annabelle merely shrugged and began fixing Pandora’s drink.