“Well.” Julia dipped her voice in the way that meant a biting remark was coming. “If you weren’t so busy playing around, maybe you’d at least learn the basics. Red means stop, green go. Dogs chase cats. Too much boozing equals skipping class—”
Sebastian laughed. “Touché. Tree pose?”
“Fine,” Julia shouted, lifting her mouth above the water. “Tree pose.”
“Tree pose?” I shivered, making small ripples around me. “I need my clothes for yoga, Julia.”
“No.” Julia started swimming for the dock. “It’s shorthand for truce,” she shouted over her shoulder. I stayed out in the dark water.
“She speaks!” Sebastian turned his head in my direction and I swear his fingers were spread just slightly, like a little kid peeking during the scary part of a movie. I ducked back into the water so that up to my mouth was covered again.
“Of course she speaks. Now, will you grab our clothes and go get Cordelia started on reciting the European capitals or anything else to distract her? Keep Mummy and Bradley out of the kitchen and Boom in his office. We’ll go in through the side door and they’ll just think we’ve been in town.”
Sebastian, his eyes firmly covered once again, gave a little bow in Julia’s general direction. Only after he turned around did he drop both hands by his sides. As he walked back to the shore he stopped to pick up our bathing suit tops and bottoms. He pivoted about, gathering all the clothing into a pile at the end of the dock. When he was done he waved at us, then jogged up to the house.
As soon as his back was turned, Julia climbed up the dock ladder. I floundered after her, missing the bottom step twice before I got the footing. I tried to pull on my shorts at the same time as I was yanking my shirt over my head. It didn’t work. I had to stop with my shorts around my knees to get it right. Neither Julia nor I bothered with our bathing suits. Holding them to our chests, we dashed to the kitchen door, and only when I tried to turn the knob with my wet hands did I realize how hard I was laughing.
By the time we managed to get the door open, I was hiccupping and Julia had to cross her legs as she shuffled across the kitchen because she swore she was going to wet her already soaking shorts.
When I got to my room, I felt something in my shorts pocket. I pulled out a bottle cap. It was one for peach juice this time.
It is physically impossible for you to lick your elbow.
I tried. It was true.
“Fascinating,” I whispered and put the cap in the side pocket of my duffel bag with the other.
I had just stepped out of my room, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved shirt—even though it was midafternoon in August, I was set on covering as much skin as possible—when Cordelia, in shorts that matched the pink in her floral top, appeared from around the corner.
“Oh, there you are. Nanny said that Julia had a friend here. Do you speak French? Parlez-vous français? I’m practically fluent, but I’m taking Chinese because Boom thinks China is the future. Do you go to school with Julia? I’m not going there. Mummy says that I’ll probably get into one of the Phillips because my grades are so good. I skipped second grade, that’s why I’m the shortest one in my class. What’s your name again?”
“Charlotte,” I coughed. “Charlotte Ryder. But your sister calls me Charlie. We met at my school. Remember? You were hiding behind your brother.” I paused. “I thought you were shy.”
“I’m only shy when I’m not here,” she said slowly as if she were explaining directions to a foreign tourist. “It’s good you already have a nickname.” A little bit of her belly stuck out over the top of her shorts and her cheeks had a roundness to them that made her look like a well-fed doll. Her hair was dark like Julia’s, but a mess of curls instead of pin straight, and the bridge of her nose was covered with freckles and peeling from a recent sunburn.
“What’s yours? Your nickname, I mean,” I said.
“Well, Bradley calls me Pest, Nanny calls me her petit canard, and Mummy used to call me cheeky monkey. But Sebastian and Julia call me Oops because they say Mummy and Boom weren’t expecting to have another baby, but here I am.”
“Yes.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Here you are.”
“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs. “Julia is having one of her college talks with Mummy and those can go on forever. Come meet Casanova.”
“Is that a pet?” I asked, letting her lead me down the curving front staircase.
Cordelia sighed so dramatically that her bangs flew up on one side. “My brother, Bradley. That’s what Julia and I call him. He dropped out of law school, but it’s okay because now Sebastian is the one who’s going to be a senator like Boom, and Mummy thinks Bradley’s a genius and that he’s going to sell his techy company for millions. But he’s never serious. Julia says he can’t go to Rome ’cause he’d try to flirt with all the naked lady statues.”
“What?”
Cordelia, her hair swinging back and forth across her shoulders, tugged me into the library. The light streaked across the floor, filling the space and making the gold threads in the carpet glisten. A guy about a foot or so taller than me was standing by the far window, looking at his phone and smiling as if he were reading a secret. His fingers danced across the screen.
“Hey,” Cordelia called as we entered, but he barely shifted in our direction. “Come meet Julia’s friend. Her name’s Charlotte, but we’re calling her Charlie. Charlie,” Cordelia said formally, “this is Bradley. Bradley, this is Julia’s artsy friend Charlie who Nanny told us about.”
Bradley met us in the center of the room. His face was square-shaped just like Sebastian’s. But that was about where the resemblance ended. He was classically handsome in the way that catalogue models and actors in commercials are: perfectly proportioned nose, even-set eyes, side-parted hair. When he smiled at me, I saw two rows of white, straight teeth.
I stretched out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Brad.”
“It’s Bradley,” he replied, shaking my hand firmly. “I go by Bradley.”
“Bradley.” I clenched and unclenched my hand once he let go, trying to get some circulation back into it. “I’ll remember that.”
“Just kidding. You, Charlie, can call me whatever you want.” He winked. His posture was relaxed, yet full of energy, as if he could walk out of the room and be ready to play a round of golf or talk to a room full of investors without changing his stance either way.
I would have kept staring at his blue eyes, but the sound of Julia’s voice made me spin toward the door.
“Hands to yourself, Bradley.” Julia plodded across the carpet and slipped her arm through mine.
“Oh.” Bradley lifted one eyebrow and both hands. “Pip, Oops didn’t say this was a ‘special friend.’” He made air quotes.
“We’re not . . . I’m not . . . Julia and I aren’t together . . . not like that.” I mimicked his air quote gesture and glanced at Cordelia, who had settled stomach down on the sofa and was staring up at us, her chin in her hands.
“Charlie’s my friend, you moron,” Julia said. “Besides, she’s not my type.”
“Why not?” I said.
Bradley clapped his hands. A little boy delighted at the trouble he’d caused.
“Julia, there you are!” A half-naked man stood in the door of the library. His arms opened wide as if he wanted to hug the whole room.
To be fair, he was wearing a bathrobe, but I still got a glimpse of his fleur-de-lis boxers when he flung his arms around Julia.
“Miss me, kiddo?” His voice was deep and thundering like a radio news announcer or the referees who call the beginning of boxing matches on TV. His round stomach pushed against the sash of his robe, and his bare legs were tan and thick with dark hair. His face was as ruddy as a construction worker’s. He had deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that could only have come from a lifetime of loving the sun.
“Mon Dieu, Boom. Could you put some pants on? Or at
least wear underwear that’s not boring,” Julia said, her face pressed against his chest.
He released her as suddenly as he had hugged her and turned toward me. “This must be the lovely and talented Miss Ryder.”
“Her name is Charlie, Boom. We’re calling her Charlie.” Cordelia jumped up from the couch and started tugging on his sleeve.
He reached down and picked her up with one arm, extending his free hand to me. “Welcome to Arcadia, Charlie. I was in such a rush to see my adoring daughter here”—he jerked his head toward Julia—“that I forgot a few things.”
Bradley chuckled. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw that even Julia couldn’t help smiling.
I shook his hand. “It happens, Mr. Buchanan.”
“Call me Boom.”
“Okay, Boom.” I tested the word out. “Boom.” It’s so rare that names, or even nicknames, capture exactly who we are. It’s a matter of luck really, what we end up answering to. Was I a Charlotte? A Charlie? I wasn’t sure, but he was unequivocally a Boom.
Julia grabbed my arm. “Charlie and I are going riding at the Homers’ before Mummy comes down the stairs in her bra and underwear or Nanny streaks across the lawn.” She started tugging me toward the door. “Ma famille est folle!”
“Can I come?” Cordelia wiggled out of Boom’s arms to stand by my side.
“Are you going to be a pain?” Julia had to lean in front of me to see Cordelia since she couldn’t see over me.
“No!” Cordelia jumped. “I’ll exhaust maturity. I’ll even ride the pony so you can have Little Miss Sunshine.”
“Don’t you mean ‘exude,’ Webster?” Bradley asked.
“That’s what I said. Exude, to project or display abundantly. Exude. And I prefer the Oxford English Dictionary over Webster’s.” Cordelia put her hands on her hips.
“Oh, come on, Oops,” Julia said. “Les deux clowns, on vous verra au dîner.”
Boom made a motion with his hands as if he was trying to keep a bee away from a glass. He then clapped an arm across Bradley’s shoulders and gestured toward the sofa. He was in no rush to go upstairs and put on pants.
“She called them both clowns,” Cordelia whispered to me right before Julia yanked me through the front hall and out the door.
By the time Julia had saddled up Little Miss Sunshine and Cordelia had outfitted the aptly named Gumdrop at the farm across the road, the sun was beginning to set. The scrappy pine trees that dotted the edges of the riding ring cast shadows on the faces of animals and riders. Cordelia’s eyes were as much on Julia’s back as they were on her reins. Every time Julia sped up, Cordelia kicked her heels into poor Gumdrop’s side, and he would trot a few feet and then resume his languid walk. Eventually she gave up and let him plod in a small circle in the center of the ring as Julia rose and fell with her horse’s graceful canter on the outside. She was beautiful anyway, but on a horse she looked like she was meant to have wings.
“She’s always been a magnificent rider,” I heard a low, rich voice say behind me.
When I turned around I saw a petite, finely boned woman just slightly taller than Julia walking toward me. She had on navy slacks that grazed the freshly mowed grass and sandals that showed her red toenails. The white sweater looped loosely around her neck only made her look more delicate, emphasizing the narrowness of her shoulders and her perfect posture. Her blond hair was pulled back into a smooth bun. The closer she came, the more I was able to see Julia in the high, sharp line of her cheekbones.
I wiped my hands on my pants and stepped away from the railing.
When she was just feet away she uncrossed her arms and raised one hand to her mouth, using two fingers to make the kind of ear-splitting whistle I had only seen and heard women do to hail cabs in old movies. Almost instantly, three dogs charged from the direction of the back field: a fat black pug that I could hear snorting even when it was yards away, a silver greyhound that ran like a horse and was tall as my waist, and a golden retriever that loped on three legs and looked like it was smiling with its tongue hanging out of its mouth.
“Meet my other children.” The woman began furiously petting the golden retriever, which was almost knocked off its three legs by her enthusiasm. Then she bent down and grabbed the pug, hugging the little dog to her chest as she stood. “This monster is Henry.” His bug eyes looked ready to pop out of his head. She pointed to the retriever, which was watching Julia ride and shaking its tail so hard that its entire body was moving side to side. “That’s David, but we sometimes call him toui.” She reached down with one hand and stroked the silk ears of the greyhound. “And this dignified lady is Thoreau because she’s the smartest of the bunch.” She kissed the snorting pug on the nose.
“They’re very . . . canine,” I stammered as David loped over and put his nose under my left hand. I started petting him, shaking the fur that came off with each stroke onto the lawn.
“And I’m Teresa, Julia’s mother.” She kissed the pug one more time before pouring him onto the ground. When she stood up, her entire front was coated in fur. She reached out one hand. “It’s not particularly original to say this, but I feel like I know you already, Charlotte.”
“I . . . I think I saw you at parents’ weekend at St. Anne’s,” I said, grabbing her hand. It felt as fragile as a tightly stretched canvas. “Thank you. For . . . for everything. For the tickets . . . for having me here. And the watch. I brought it with me. I can’t . . . I can’t keep it.”
“It’s a gift, dear. Please, you must.” She crossed her arms, stepping closer to the railing. “Well, I’m glad you’ve been able to keep Julia company this summer. Been enjoying yourself?”
“It’s been amazing.” I moved to stand beside her. “I brought chocolates, but Julia and I ate them a while ago.”
She smiled. “Normally I’m here all summer, but Cordelia had her camps, and then work at the office has been crazier than usual. I feel like my eyes are permanently squinted from reading grant proposals.” She raised her manicured hands to her eyes and rubbed at them dramatically.
“What do you do?”
She dropped her hands and tilted her head. “Julia doesn’t tell you much, does she?”
I started to shake my head, but then thought better of it, and shrugged.
“I work for my husband’s foundation. We basically channel money to deserving organizations for, as Bradley calls them, our ‘do-gooder’ projects.” She tapped her fingers against the railing. “If I’m not reading grant proposals, then I’m on the phone bugging one of Joe’s former colleagues for money or a favor. I’m just happy someone was here to keep Julia out of trouble in my absence.” She raised her eyebrows and looked at me as if asking a question. I didn’t know what else to do, so I leaned on the fence and pretended to be fascinated with watching Julia turn Little Miss Sunshine one way, then the other, as if she were pivoting around poles.
“She’s always been so good with animals. As a little girl, she was forever picking up creatures and trying to rehabilitate them. Frogs that were half dead from being squished in the road, baby birds with broken wings, a cat with an injured paw. God, she must have only been ten the time she dragged David home after he was hit by a car.” Mrs. Buchanan propped herself against the railing, resting her small chin on her arms as she gazed across the ring.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said, mimicking her pose.
Mrs. Buchanan sighed. “She’s something.”
The mixture of pride and sadness in her voice was enough to make me turn my head to look at her. She had her fingertips pressed to her temples and her eyes squeezed shut.
“Are you all right?”
“Oh, dear, it’s nothing. Just a headache. I’m going to go back to the house now to lie down.” She dropped her hands and straightened up. “If you need anything at all just let Sophie know. And if you need anything ironed or steamed for the party tomorrow, give a shout, okay?” She patted my arm and gave a sharp finger whistle. The three dogs were immediat
ely by her side, circling around her as she made her way across the road to the Arcadia gate.
“Party?” I said, more to myself than to her.
“Yes, we have one every August.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder at me. “I’m surprised Julia hasn’t told you all about it.” She frowned and shook her head. “Or maybe I’m not.” She began walking again.
While I was watching Mrs. Buchanan, Cordelia had disappeared into the barn with Gumdrop, but in the ring Julia hopped down from Little Miss Sunshine. Standing next to him she looked so small, so fragile that I wanted to swoop in and drag her away—anywhere where she’d be safe from the too large hooves and oversized teeth. Instead when she began to lead him out of the ring, I stood where I was, and waited for her to come to me.
THE PARTY
“So you met Mummy, then?”
“Yes. She’s wicked nice. Not what I—”
“Let me guess. The dogs jumped all over you and then she charmed you and left.”
“Well. She had a headache, but she was very nice.”
“You already said that. What did you two talk about?”
“Something about a party tomorrow?”
“Merde! We don’t have to go. We can go into town and sneak into Melville’s. If we close the place out, the whole lot of them might be gone by the time we get back.”
“A party here could be fun.”
“It’s going to be un spectacle de merde.”
“Translation?”
“A shit show. Buchanan parties always are.”
“If it’s terrible, we can hide in Sophie’s house with junk food and watch old movies until our teeth rot or everyone leaves . . . plus your mom did kind of invite me. I’d feel bad just leaving.”
“Oh, Charlie. The things I do for you.”
FOURTEEN
I HAD HEARD THE TENT going up and a crew of men and women clicking, clacking, and shouting around the yard, setting up tables, bars, and a dance floor in front of where Cordelia told me the band would play. Through the open window of my room, I heard the musicians tuning their instruments, bottles popping, and the sound of tires on gravel as the first guests arrived.
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