Elizabeth said she counted over three hundred people strolling the grounds of Ophélie with their mint juleps and trails of gossip. Elizabeth wasn’t one to embellish, so that sounded right to Charles, and it certainly felt right, as he couldn’t even dip around a corner without someone appearing from nowhere to congratulate him or espouse their idea of sage advice on the subject of married life.
Dan Weatherly was the first. With a somber look more appropriate for a funeral, he’d clapped a hand on Charles’ shoulder and with a tight smile said, “My man. My man. This doesn’t have to be a death sentence. I’ve got you. We’ll get a regular rotation of beauties that will help you forget all about that cold hag.”
Charles didn’t need Dan Weatherly’s crude pimping to get laid and was sensitive to the insinuation. In fact, it had been at one of Dan’s parties that one of these so-called beauties had mounted Charles while he was completely out of his mind, only to later end up giving birth to a Deschanel bastard that Charles had used all his brainpower to forget about.
Fuck Dan for making him think about that shit again.
Irish Colleen had gone all out for the event. No barn ladder they owned was tall enough to hang the garlands from the upper portico, or stringing the light from live oak to live oak—Charles knew this only because he’d seen her try—so she’d hired professionals to both decorate and cater the event. Thousands of lights blanketed the property when dusk descended. The decorators had woven lilies and orange lantana through the garland wrapped around every column of the house. The last time he’d seen Ophélie so dressed was when Irish Colleen had the wild and terrible idea to host cotillion there and forced Colleen and Madeline to go through the torturous process of becoming debutantes.
He’d done his level best to avoid more than a passing glance at Cordelia for the past two hours. No one seemed to notice that they weren’t meandering the party together, arm in arm, as a couple in love would, and he wondered if everyone secretly knew how fucking miserable he was about the whole thing. Most of the advice he received, as people slipped an arm around his waist or shoulder, half-or-all-the-way drunk due to Irish Colleen’s open bar sensibilities, were along the same vein as advice you’d give a man with a cancer diagnosis.
Jamie Sullivan: Give and take. It’s all give and take. Sometimes you give more than you take, but them’s the breaks.
Jerome Sullivan, his brother: No one ever really tells you about marriage until you’re in it, but it’s really not so bad. Don’t let anyone scare you.
Claudius Broussard, who had married the infamous Blanche: Listen, Charles, marriage is wonderful, of course, but you have to establish your dominance before it’s taken from you. Women do that, and I don’t think they mean it, or maybe they do, but you gotta know your ground before it can be walked all over.
Pansy Guidry: You treat that woman like a queen, Charles, ya hear? Don’t let me go around hearing you ain’t her king.
Eugenia Fontenot: Marriage is a beautiful blessing. Truly, a blessing.
Wallace Fontenot, her husband, whispering out of her earshot: Pick your battles, son. Be prepared to lose most of them.
Pierce Guidry: Once you have children, everything changes. Everything.
Blanche Broussard, whose first two husbands died under mysterious circumstances: Best of luck to you, darling. And remember, marriage doesn’t have to be forever, unless you want it to.
Ophelia Deschanel, (laughing): Bless you, Charles. There’s a reason I’ve never married.
At one point, he’d let himself imagine his bride was Catherine and nearly replied that they didn’t need to worry, they’d keep each other on their toes, always guessing, always happy. The comedown from this was worse than a break from coke, though, and instead he resigned himself to the truth with the reminder from that sad sack Weatherly that this wasn’t the end of his sex life. His future wife wouldn’t even hold it over his head. She’d probably be off doing the same, if she wasn’t dead inside.
Someone rang the old plantation bell. Or several someones, he thought, because the cursed ancient thing was larger than a car. The crowds began filtering toward the rear of the house, to where the intricate parterre garden now housed dozens of benches and over a hundred folding chairs.
Charles hung out at the back of the unfolding events. Franz and Irish Colleen stood upon a small dais at the other end of the garden, both holding microphones. Franz looked pleased as punch, with a smile suggesting he’d stolen not one but all the cookies from the jar. Irish Colleen, on the other hand, wore the pained and uncomfortable look of someone who belonged where she was but wasn’t quite certain how she’d gotten there, or why.
Franz cleared his throat and made to speak into his microphone, when tiny Irish Colleen stepped forward first. That’s right, Mama. This is your show. “I want to thank you all for coming here today, to celebrate the marriage of my eldest, dear son, Charles, to the daughter of our old friend, Franz. Cordelia, I welcome you to our family with the open arms of a mother and ask you to look after my baby. And Charles…” She searched for him and failed to find him, hiding her frown in her next words, which were a touch less confident. “Charles, your father and I raised you to be a fair and dutiful husband, providing for your family in the way we taught you. Next summer, we’ll be here again to watch the two of you say your sacred vows, and that will be the proudest day of my life.” She blotted her eyes.
Augustus appeared at his left, cradling a whiskey. Charles gave him an approving look. “I’ve never seen you drink.”
“Under the circumstances,” Augustus said, without elaboration.
“Have you seen…” Charles stopped himself.
“Catherine?” Augustus nodded to the left. He tugged at his tie, loosening it. “Over there, other side of the garden, trying her best not to appear as if she’s looking at you.”
Charles chuckled to himself. The small victories were all he had left.
“She had a bit of a run-in with your fiancée earlier.”
“She… what?”
Augustus grinned into his drink as he took another sip. “She tried to congratulate Cordelia, and Cordelia asked her just what was there to be so excited about? Catherine’s feathers got a bit rankled, and she came to your stirring defense.”
“Shit.” Charles chanced a look at Catherine and caught her eye. She looked miserable. “Did Colin see?”
“He was there, but I don’t think he made the connection, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That is what I’m asking.”
“You’re safe for now.”
“Thank you, Colleen.” Franz stepped not just forward but around Charles’ mother. “We are joined here today, to celebrate the impending union…”
Charles zoned him out. He felt someone come up behind him and turned to see his baby sister. “Lizzy. Thank you for joining me for my sentencing.”
Elizabeth snickered. “The whole family is a bunch of buffoons. Have you met the brother?”
“Oh, Darwin,” Augustus said. “He’s a charmer.”
“You know him?” Charles asked.
“I know of him. He’s not well regarded in the business world. No one will loan him a penny without his father in the room.”
“Where’s Cordelia?” Elizabeth looked around.
“Drowned in the river, one can hope,” Charles murmured.
“Huck!” she chided. “That’s never funny. What would be funny is if she got lost in the maze of sugarcane and starved to death.”
Both Augustus and Charles gaped at her.
“Sorry to say, that’s not her future,” Elizabeth said under her breath and shoved the straw from her Coke in her mouth.
Everyone around them applauded, and the three joined in without knowing exactly why. Franz had finished his droning speech and now was asking if anyone else had well wishes for the couple.
Colin handed Catherine his drink and went to approach the podium, but was blown aside by Rory stumbling past him and stealing the microp
hone.
“What a party!” he cried out, tripping over his own feet. Franz steadied him and then retreated quickly.
“Jesus Christ, we need to stop him.” Colleen appeared. “He’s had way too much to drink. He never drinks like this. I don’t know what he’s thinking.”
“I’m sure he’s just high on love,” Charles quipped.
Colleen raised both of her judgmental brows on him. “He can’t hold his liquor. He’ll make a fool of himself, and possibly you.”
Charles crossed his arms and swirled his drink. “That’s exactly what this party needs!”
Colleen grunted and turned to Augustus. “Are you going to stop him?”
Augustus shrugged with a and just what am I supposed to do about it? look.
“Only a Deschanel could command an audience like this!” Rory went on. “All the important people are here. Would be a great time for someone to drop a bomb.”
A ripple of silence passed through the crowd. Murmurs followed.
“Yeah, well, who knew Charles would be marrying Cordelia Hendrickson? Who even knew they were dating?” Rory finished off his drink and tried to set it aside, but there was nothing to place it on and it dropped to the ground. “Yeah. Yeah, marriage. Marriage, man. It’s a beautiful thing. It’s a mystery… and you know what else is a mystery to me? I’m talking a real bona fide mystery, the kind that Agatha What’s-Her-Face might write about…”
“Christie,” Colleen whispered with a disapproving sigh.
“What’s a mystery to me is how my brother married Catherine, and now Charles is marrying Cordelia, but just a few months ago Charles and—”
Augustus pulled the microphone from Rory and passed it back to his mother before ushering the drunk man off the stage. Charles hadn’t even noticed him leave his side, and the matter was dealt with so swiftly that Charles hardly had time to process that Rory had very nearly, almost revealed Charles and Catherine’s secret. One more word… had Augustus arrived even a second later… and at the very least Charles and Catherine would have some explaining to do.
At worst, Catherine and Colin’s lives would have come crashing down, and Charles’ with it.
Augustus delivered Rory to Colin, who tugged at his brother and escorted him somewhere out of sight. Catherine’s wide, terrified eyes darted between her Sullivan family and Charles, unsure of where to land.
“All right! Who else?” Franz asked.
Someone else, Charles never saw who, went up to give their speech for the couple. He didn’t see or notice because Catherine shuffled over to him, trying to get to him quickly without drawing attention. Augustus was right behind her and, wordlessly, provided a barrier with his stance, and Colleen, quietly, joined him. Elizabeth slipped in beside them. Catherine disappeared behind their shield and wiped at her eyes.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she sobbed.
“Probably not,” Charles agreed, but, briefly, squeezed her hand in his and dropped it. It fell back to her side. He regretted it immediately.
“How can you marry her, Huck? She’s horrible. She’s…”
“Not you? Could have been you, but you two-timed with Colin and then married him, for reasons that still make no goddamn sense,” he said and didn’t care if his siblings heard. By now they must know. “Am I supposed to wait for you to get tired of him? Is that it? Or if you can’t have me, then no one can?”
“No… no, that’s not what I meant…”
“Then what, Cat? What did you mean? I’d make it quick, before Colin figures out where you went.”
“You deserve better, that’s all. You deserve someone who will love you and not marry you because they have to.”
“You just described Colin, you know that? That’s what you did, and you don’t think he deserves better?”
“Colin’s back and looking for Cat,” Maureen said, appearing from apparently nowhere to round out the protection.
“Go to your husband, Catherine,” Charles said. “Stop worrying about me and start worrying about him.”
Cat opened her eyes wide and blinked to push away the tears. She sniffled and leaned in. “You think you understand me, and my choices, and what I’ve done, but you have no idea. You sit there in judgment, when you once loved me, and think you know it all. You don’t know a thing, Charles. Not a thing.”
Catherine broke through the barrier between Augustus and Colleen and disappeared into the crowd.
“She’s gotta learn some tact, Huck,” Colleen said. “She can’t be doing this at your engagement party. If not for your sake, then for her own.”
“Stay out of it,” Charles barked and left them all, heading for the river, for a spot none of them knew; a place where he was not in this terrible situation and his heart wasn’t broken.
* * *
Elizabeth could not have said why she followed Cordelia into the horse barn. She didn’t trust the wretched woman, and there was nothing in the barn these days, certainly not horses, or anything useful for that matter. I just want to talk, Cordelia said, but when had those words ever been safe?
She stepped into the wide, empty space, which smelled faintly of old hay and not much else. When she reached the center of the floor, she heard the whoosh of the old double doors closing behind her and then the thud of the latch striking. Most of the light disappeared, except the few swashes of moonlight streaming through gaps in the wood siding.
Elizabeth turned. That weirdo, Darwin, grinned at her as he leaned into what was both the only entrance and exit.
“What’s going on?”
“We just want to talk,” Darwin said, and his smile was now like that cat, in Alice in Wonderland, and she didn’t trust anything about it. Not a thing.
“Yes, don’t be alarmed, Elizabeth. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She turned toward this second voice, another man, and found it was Franz Hendrickson. He stepped from the other end of the row of stalls, emerging from the darkness.
Cordelia slapped the flashlight against her thigh and it shuddered to life, flickering. “Cursed thing.”
“Let me out. Mama is expecting me to help her in the kitchen,” Elizabeth said, searching for an excuse. She was terrible at this… she had no courage. If they intended to murder her, which was a possibility in her mind, as it started to make sense of this, began to wrap around, she would probably lie there like a limp doll and let them stab her into oblivion.
Where was everyone else? Had no one seen them come in?
“Darling, you look frightened. You don’t need to be,” Franz said. “I only have a few questions, and I’m told you’re the perfect little girl to help me with them.”
“I’m not a little girl,” Elizabeth said. Her hands turned to fists at her sides. “And if you don’t want me to be frightened, stop being so frightening and let me out of here.”
Darwin kept his body pressed into the barn door. “After a few questions. Not so hard.”
“Your brother told me about your little trick,” Cordelia said, stepping forward. She pointed the flashlight at Elizabeth, and the light was so bright against the darkness that Elizabeth’s arms flew up to shield herself. Cordelia instead pointed the light beyond her. “We think you can help us.”
“My brother?”
“Charles. He told us you could…” Cordelia seemed unable to finish.
“See the future,” Darwin said with a flippant hand wave. “You can, yes?”
“What’s it to you?” Oh, Huck, what have you done? Why did you tell them this?
“I’m about to make a decision that will affect the future of Hendrickson Enterprises,” Franz said. His words rolled out with a softness that was not natural to him, possibly to neutralize her fears, but it only increased them. Disarming someone wasn’t a tactic one used to befriend them. “I need you to tell me which way to go.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because we’re family!” Darwin cried.
“Charles wouldn’t have told me this unless he hoped you could be
useful to us,” Cordelia said. The way she moved around the room reminded Elizabeth of a slithering snake, drawing circles around its prey before striking. “Unless he was lying?”
“He was lying,” Elizabeth lied.
Darwin laughed. Franz joined in. Elizabeth couldn’t fathom what was funny.
“Help us, and I’ll try to be nice to your brother.” Cordelia curled her mouth in a sneer. “I will try not to make him miserable.”
Elizabeth had seen her brother’s future and didn’t know that Cordelia’s promise would do much, but the helplessness that had nagged at her as she watched his years unfold started to fray at the edges. What if she did help them, and Cordelia was slightly less insufferable? It wouldn’t be a change to the future; only a softening of the inevitable.
“What do you want to know?” Elizabeth crossed her arms. From the corner of her eye, she watched Darwin, waiting for him to let down his guard.
“I want to know whether I should make the investment or not. Simple,” Franz said.
It wasn’t simple at all. Elizabeth couldn’t curate her visions, or search for answers within someone’s mind. She saw what she saw, and it was rarely what she’d come for. But they weren’t letting her out of here without something.
Elizabeth closed her eyes. She reached a hand forward, but stopped short of making contact with Franz. She didn’t want to touch him… sometimes when she did that, she saw beyond the future, to the heart of who a person was.
There was an incident… an incident so many years ago, which was the past, yes, but this incident had carried Franz into the present and would be both his future and his end.
Should she tell him?
Elizabeth opened her eyes, letting her gaze travel between the pack of carrions. Not a one of them had a conscience. Not a one of them deserved hers.
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