by Beth Wiseman
The comment sounded a bit snobbish, but Darlene let it go. She’d only taken a couple of sips of her champagne when the driver pulled up to Festival Hill. It was a beautiful campus of at least two hundred acres, all dedicated to the performing arts. Darlene, Brad, and the kids had visited the world-renowned Festival Concert Hall and couldn’t believe the ornate woodwork inside. It still amazed her that Round Top was home to such a facility. Surrounding it were architectural and horticultural wonders, including the Herzstein Plaza, the outdoor gathering area where the gala was being held.
As soon as she stepped out of the car, she glanced around at the other women moving toward the entrance. Most were in floor-length gowns, a few in cocktail dresses, and she spotted a couple of older women in their Sunday best. The men were in suits, and most of those attending were couples. She cupped a hand to her hair, hoping it stayed in place for the night. In the heat of the summer, she kept her hair up, but always in a ponytail, not anything like the twist she had now.
“There is Chuck Perkins,” Layla said as she and Darlene walked toward the steps leading to the plaza. As they stepped onto the red carpet, Darlene could hear a buzz of activity around the corner. “The people throwing this benefit will be glad to see him here. He’ll up the auction prices with his bids and also make a hefty donation. He’s got more money than God.”
“God doesn’t have money,” Darlene said casually.
Layla stopped and her bottom lip twitched as she spoke. “He doesn’t have any mercy either.”
Darlene stared at Layla for a second, then picked up the pace when Layla did. She knew there were two things not to discuss at a public function: politics and religion. But as the woman in front of them dug around in her purse for her ticket, a Scripture verse flowed into Darlene’s head with such ease that it made her shiver.
O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth forever.
Darlene was raised in the church, her kids were raised in the church, and she’d prayed her entire life. She and Brad didn’t talk a lot about God; it was just understood. A fact. But every now and then, God would send her a powerful message, a reminder that He was always present.
She thought about the verse for a few moments, then said softly, “Layla, you know God is good and merciful, right?”
Layla stiffened as her eyes rounded into balls of fire. “Don’t go getting all religious on me, Darlene. I don’t do the God thing anymore.”
“Okay. Sorry.” Darlene held up one hand, but the second she did so, another verse breezed into her mind: Thou art my God, and I will praise thee: thou art my God, I will exalt thee. Guilt flooded over her for giving up on Layla so easily.
As they entered the plaza, Darlene’s breath caught in her throat as she gazed around. It had been transformed into a ballroom beneath the stars. People began to swarm around Layla. If Darlene hadn’t known she was someone important, she would have figured it out tonight. She watched as Layla lit up the room with her smile and politely greeted everyone, but to Darlene it looked rehearsed, something Layla could turn on and off like a light switch. She didn’t introduce Darlene to anyone, and she kept walking as people spoke to her. Darlene followed, and they wound their way between tables covered with white tablecloths. Each had a large vase of red roses in the middle, surrounded by four white votive candles. Six place settings had been laid out, all fine china with crystal and white linen napkins.
“Here’s our table,” Layla said to Darlene, pointing to a white card with her name on it. Next to hers was a card with Darlene’s name. She glanced around. “I need a drink.”
“There are waiters walking around. I’m sure they’ll get to us.” Darlene scanned the area as people continued to come in. On one side of the plaza, a row of tables held the silent auction items, and all around the entire party area were dramatic stone structures, including two waterfalls and a statue of Saint Boniface atop a limestone-and-marble pedestal.
She loved silent auctions, although she always seemed to get outbid at the last minute. Tonight, she had a self-imposed limit of two hundred dollars to spend. Layla said there would also be a live auction after the dinner. That’s when the more expensive items would be auctioned off.
Darlene’s eyes rested on two stunning ice sculptures, a boy and a girl facing each other. Farther down was a chocolate fountain and what looked to be a variety of desserts. She lifted her chin to see better, but Layla blocked her view as she flagged down a waiter.
“What do you want?” she asked Darlene.
“Uh . . .” She wasn’t much of a drinker. Special occasions. That was about it. “Um . . .”
“Bring us both a glass of chardonnay, please,” Layla said as a couple walked up to their table, followed by an elderly man.
“Hello, Layla. I guess we’re sitting with you.” The woman pointed to the man by her side. “I believe you remember my husband, George, and this is George’s father, Bob.”
Layla said hello, then introduced Darlene. “Darlene, this is Penny Peters, George, and Bob.”
Penny gave Darlene an obvious once-over as she extended her hand. Penny shook hands like a girl, as Brad would say. Her husband believed in a firm handshake, even from a woman. Penny was petite, about Darlene’s size, so they both had to look up to see the faces of Layla and the men. Penny turned her attention back to Layla.
“Layla, you look fabulous as always. I don’t know how you do it.” Penny smiled. Her teeth were as straight and white as Layla’s. Darlene knew she had pretty good teeth, but these ladies obviously took things a step further than brushing every day and the occasional whitening strips.
Layla smiled back, the same smile she’d been flashing since they’d arrived, but she quickly turned to Darlene. “Are you ready?”
Before Darlene could answer, Layla turned back to Penny. “Excuse us, Penny. We were just on our way to look at the silent auction items.” She latched onto Darlene’s arm and coaxed her away.
“Now I’m going to need two drinks. Or four.” She rolled her eyes. “I will have Lacy St. John’s hide for putting me at the same table as Penny Peters. That woman irritates me to no end, and she’s as fake as they come.” Layla stopped dead in her tracks and faced off with Darlene. “I don’t like fakes. Or liars. Just so you know.”
“Okay . . .” Darlene took a deep breath, then let it out as Layla started to breeze between the tables where people were beginning to sit. After a few more interruptions from people who wanted to say hello to Layla, they made it to the auction tables. Making their way down the aisle, they both commented on the lavish offerings. There wasn’t anything here Darlene was going to be able to win with two hundred dollars. Almost everything had an opening bid of at least that much.
She thought about the silent auctions she’d been to in the past—for church or the kids’ schools or some worthy nonprofit. Most of them had opening bids ranging from five to twenty dollars, with the average selling for around one hundred dollars even if it wasn’t worth that much in monetary value. She figured most of these items would go well into the hundreds and thousands.
They saw lots of artwork. Expensive artwork, she thought, eyeing an oil painting depicting the square in the neighboring town of Fayetteville. Done by a local artist, the starting bid was twelve hundred dollars. She swallowed hard and moved on to the next item.
Darlene stayed in step behind Layla, hoping to find something she could bid on. Then, there it was. Layla passed right over it, but Darlene stared at the turquoise necklace and matching earrings. She had a set very similar to this one at home, although hers wasn’t real, just costume jewelry she’d picked up several years ago at a boutique in Houston. She lifted one section of the necklace. Much heavier than her fake at home. She thought about what Layla had said, about disliking anyone who was fake, and hoped that didn’t apply to a person’s possessions.
Opening bid—one hundred fifty dollars. Value—three hundred and fifty. She’d stretch her self-imposed limit if she could get it for th
at price. She scribbled in her name and the opening bid. Brad had bought her nice jewelry over the years for special occasions, but she couldn’t recall ever buying herself something this nice. She smiled, stood a little taller, and followed Layla, who she estimated had put her name on at least five different items.
Layla grunted as she put one hand on her hip. “Look at that. It doesn’t even belong here.”
Darlene leaned closer. It was a set of handmade cooking mitts, matching towels, and an apron, with an opening bid of one hundred dollars. Overly priced, like most of the items, but clearly crafted with love. “I think it’s lovely,” she said as she lifted her chin and looked up at Layla. Darlene could almost picture her grandmother making similar items when she was alive.
“You’re kidding, right? It’s cheap looking.” Layla turned toward their table. “I’m going to go get our wine. I’ll be right back.”
Layla walked off, and Darlene was glad she’d bitten her tongue and hadn’t told Layla she sounded like a snob. Layla’s comment made her question whether or not she would be able to have a true friendship with the former movie star.
She felt someone close behind her, then a tickle of breath on her neck. “See anything you like?”
She spun around. “Dave! What are you—” She smiled, shook her head. “Of course you would be here. How’s Cara?”
Dave had called the school on Tuesday to say that Cara had a bad cold. The next day, he took her to the doctor, and the doctor confirmed that she had strep throat. She hadn’t seen Dave or Cara since Monday when they came to see the chickens. She’d helped the other teachers with their one-on-one students the rest of the week.
“She’s much better. I stayed with her and worked from home all week.”
“Where is she now?” Darlene recalled Dave saying it was hard to get someone to watch Cara.
“With Myrna. She insisted I come, and she’s keeping Cara. She was babysitting her granddaughter too since her son and daughter-in-law were invited to come tonight. I’m sure you’ll meet them later.” He chuckled. “Cara talked about those chickens all week long. She’s probably going to drive you crazy.”
“Aw, I’m glad she had a good time. And you can bring her to see the chickens anytime you want.” She turned to her left when she caught a glimpse of Layla coming toward them with two glasses of white wine. She handed Darlene hers, smiled at Dave, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, followed by a hug. Darlene backed up to give them room.
“Dave, Dave. You are more handsome every time I see you.” Layla eased away, glanced at Darlene. “You know Darlene, right? She’s one of the teachers at the school.”
“She’s actually Cara’s private one-on-one teacher.” He smiled.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Cara’s lucky to have her.” Layla took a gulp of her wine. Such a nice compliment from Layla, and only minutes ago, Darlene had her pegged as a snob. Maybe she’s a nice snob. She took a sip of her wine, but lowered her glass when Dave spoke up.
“Yes, Cara is lucky to have her.” His voice was warm and genuine. Darlene felt her cheeks warm for the second time around him.
“Thank you. Cara is a pleasure to teach.”
Layla set her empty wine glass on the table with the auction items. “Penny is waving me back to the table in a very dramatic way. Good grief, I was just there. I guess I better go see what she wants now. Excuse me.”
Darlene picked up Layla’s empty wine glass, afraid someone would knock it into the kitchen items that Layla thought were so tacky. She eyed the mitts, towels, and apron again. She’d come to check on it later. If no one bid on it, she would give up the turquoise and do it herself. It would be a shame if no one showed appreciation for the craftsmanship and time that went into making them.
“Did you find anything you can’t live without?” Dave nodded down the table.
“I bid on one thing. A turquoise necklace and earrings.”
“A jewelry junkie?”
“No. I don’t ever buy jewelry . . . not jewelry like that.” She shrugged. “But I really like that set.”
“Then I hope you get it.”
“What about you? Find anything you like?”
Dave accepted a glass of wine from a passing waiter, took a sip. “I found a painting that I think Cara would like.” He laughed.
“Don’t tell me. The painting of the three chickens and the barn, the one down at the end of the table?” She nodded to where she and Layla had just come from.
“That would be the one. And there are a few things I’ll be bidding on in the live auction.”
Darlene shifted her weight. Her feet were already hurting in the silver heels. “So I guess it’s dinner, then the live auction?”
“Yes, then they have a dance. I guess they figure the longer they keep people here, the more they’ll drink, and the looser their checkbooks will get.” He grinned, then looked toward a small stage at the front of the plaza. A woman was adjusting the microphone. “I suppose we should take a seat.”
Dave stepped aside so Darlene could go in front of him. When she reached her table, which was right in the front, she noticed an area between her table and the stage that she assumed would become a dance floor later. She turned to see Dave sitting down beside her.
“How about that?” he said.
Darlene hadn’t even looked at the other name after she’d met Penny, George, and Bob. “This is great. It’ll be nice to sit next to someone else I know.”
He leaned close, put his arm around her, and whispered in her ear, “Penny and George are about as snooty as they come, but George’s father is a hoot. You’ll love him. He’s got a ton of money, and he only hands it out to Penny and George as he sees fit.” He nodded at Layla. “And of course, you know Layla. I don’t know of anyone with as big a heart as hers. I didn’t even think about the two of you knowing each other. I should have. Your farms are right next to each other.”
Darlene laughed. “Uh, Layla’s house is a lot more than a farm. It’s a ranch, an estate. Simply gorgeous.”
“Well, it takes time to get our places the way we want them. And Layla, as you probably know, is a hard worker.”
Dave still had his arm around her when she twisted to face in his direction. “Can you believe that I had no idea who she was until last weekend when she came to our house for dinner, for my daughter Grace’s sixteenth birthday?”
“Really?”
“But Brad knew who she was right away, and I think he’s been gaga ever since.”
“She’s a beautiful woman, inside and out.”
That was the second time that Dave had mentioned Layla being a good person. Maybe she’d misread Layla. But why the bitterness toward God?
Dave rubbed his chin for a moment, almost as if he was checking for stubble. “Don’t let her fool you. She puts on a big act. I guess it’s left over from her days of fame, but she really is as good as they come.”
Dave seemed very genuine when he spoke about Layla, and Darlene wondered if maybe her initial hunch had been right. Maybe Layla and Dave would be a good match.
“I heard my name.” Layla leaned around Darlene to peer at both of them.
Dave removed his arm from Darlene’s chair, and she sat back all the way so they could see each other.
“I was just telling Darlene what a wonderful person you are.” Dave finished off the last of his wine. Darlene still had almost a full glass.
“Don’t lie to her, Dave.”
They both laughed. When Layla went to the ladies’ room a few minutes later, Dave put his hand on the back of Darlene’s chair again and whispered, “Layla has been through a hard time. Did she tell you about Marissa?”
Darlene shifted her weight in her chair. His face was close to hers as he spoke, and she felt the need to back away just a little. He moved his arm and leaned back.
“Who is Marissa?” she asked.
“Marissa was her daughter.”
Darlene’s mouth fell open. “I didn’t know Layla ha
d any children.”
“Marissa died when she was fifteen, drug overdose.” Dave ran his finger around the rim of his wineglass and looked down. “No one ever knew if it was intentional, or if Marissa was just trying to get some temporary relief from all that ailed her. Layla told me once that Marissa was bipolar.” He paused as he looked back at Darlene. “Layla was never really the same. And it ended her career, although people moved mountains to keep the press away as best they could. But it still got out.”
Darlene was surprised Brad didn’t know anything about it. And poor Layla. “That’s terrible.” She paused. “I haven’t known Layla very long, and I don’t know her very well.”
“Well, maybe wait and let her tell you in her own time.”
Darlene nodded as she wondered if Marissa was why Layla had said God had no mercy. She couldn’t imagine anything happening to one of her children. It was every parent’s worst nightmare.
“Marissa is one of the reasons Layla is such a big supporter of the school and wants to see the addition built.” Dave eased his chair back. “Oh, excuse me. They are getting ready to start, and I need to go speak with that man over there. I’ll be right back.” He pointed to a man at a nearby table before hurrying away.
Darlene heard a loud squeak as someone fidgeted with the microphone onstage. A male voice said something about technical difficulties, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Her heart hurt for Layla. She wondered if and when Layla would tell her about it. And if she wanted to hear. She thought about Chad, Ansley, and Grace, and said a quick prayer.
Thank You, Lord, for my healthy children.
She just couldn’t imagine one of her children harming themselves.
Chapter Nine
Dave chatted with Chuck Perkins for a few minutes while people worked to get the microphone onstage working. Chuck was sure to make a sizable contribution, and he was a good guy in general.