Parchment and Old Lace

by Laura Childs

  Chapter 28

  CARMELA sat at her dining room table, watching her nail polish dry. Mostly, though, she was admiring the rich claret color that perfectly matched the glass of Pinot Noir she was drinking. As she was painting her toenails to match, two thuds sounded at her front door. Ah, Ava and her stash of dresses had arrived. Which, of course, jacked Boo and Poobah into high alert.

  “Okay, okay,” Carmela told her pups. “Chill, babies.” She got up and waved her hands around in small figure eights. Maybe the extra air circulation would help the enamel dry faster?

  Carmela gingerly opened the door using just the pads of her fingertips. Ava immediately tried to thrust an armful of garment bags at her.

  “No, no, I just did my nails,” Carmela screeched, jumping back. Which caused Boo and Poobah to lunge forward.

  “Down, dogs,” Ava cried. “Auntie Ava is dying out here.” Like a pack animal trudging through the Gobi Desert, she dragged three garment bags into Carmela’s apartment and piled them on the chaise lounge. “Dresses,” she huffed, trying to catch her breath.

  “Great,” Carmela said. She was looking forward to trying on some party dresses.

  “Take a gander and let me know which ones you want dibs on. Then I’ll do a little picking and choosing for myself.”

  “What happened to the red dress? From this afternoon?”

  “Ah, I decided it was plenty sexy, but maybe not quite classy enough for our big casino shindig.”

  “Ava, we’re talking gambling and men who probably wear pinkie rings,” Carmela laughed. She knew what kind of men hung around casinos. She’d been to Moonglow Casino over in Biloxi.

  “Still, I want to look upscale,” Ava said. “Like one of those rich society babes you see on the cover of Town & Country.”

  “That might be a stretch.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Never mind,” Carmela said. “Let’s take a look. Go ahead and do the big reveal.”

  “You got it.” Ava hastily unzipped one of the bags. Red, pink, purple, and black dresses spilled out, all in vivid Technicolor, like hybrid roses from some exquisite garden.

  Carmela was impressed. “Where’d you get all these gowns? These are pretty high caliber.” Ava’s closet was jam-packed with sexy dresses, but these were a big step up in taste and design.

  “I made a detour to the Latest Wrinkle.”

  “Ah,” Carmela said. “Our favorite resale shop.”

  “Don’t tell anybody, but I got all these dresses on approval.”

  “Meaning . . . ?”

  “We don’t have to pay for them.”

  “But aren’t they expecting us to buy a couple?”

  Ava put a finger to her mouth. “Shh. That’s our little secret.”

  “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Ava pulled out a long black lace dress that was slit all the way up the front. “Lots of leg action going on here.”

  “Maybe a little too much.”

  “Okay, be a Puritan. I’ll try it on.” Ava pulled off her sweater and slipped out of her jeans. Within seconds she’d slithered into the dress. “Hah. It fits. And I didn’t even have to use Crisco or fishing line.” She did a pirouette and struck a runway-type pose, her legs looking long and shapely in the reveal from the dress.

  “It’s certainly more your style than mine,” Carmela said. She picked up a bright blue dress with a flowing skirt and held it at arm’s length, examining it critically. “This might work.” She took off her blouse and jeans and slipped the dress over her head.

  “Pretty color,” Ava said. “Brings out the blue in your eyes.”

  Carmela smoothed the skirt down over her hips. “Not bad.” Then she did a half turn and glanced in the mirror over the fireplace. “Oh no.” Panic rose inside her. “There’s no back.”

  “So what?”

  “I mean nothing at all. I’m hanging out like a very naked lady.”

  “Shoulder blades and a hint of spine can be very sexy,” Ava said. “Men enjoy a sneak preview.”

  “This isn’t just a preview, it’s a coming attraction.”

  Ava picked up a red dress that was spattered with sequins. “Maybe you should try this one, cher. Red is another color that looks très jolie on you.”

  “Sequins.” Carmela made a lemon face. “You know I pretty much exist in a sparkle-free zone.”

  “Which makes it very difficult to find something that screams par-tay,” Ava grumped. She slithered out of her long black dress and pulled on a skintight black leather dress. “Zip me up, will you?”

  “Leather?”

  “Leather says party,” Ava said.

  “Yeah, but what kind? S&M? B&D?” Carmela jerked and tugged at the zipper, but wasn’t able to budge it. “You’re gonna have to really suck in, kiddo.”

  “I’m trying,” Ava said. “Wait.” She held up a hand and inhaled deeply. Still holding her breath, she gestured for Carmela to go for it. The zipper started to move and finally slid all the way up to the top. “What do you think?” Ava gasped. “How do I look?”

  “Honey, that black leather dress gives off such a dominatrix vibe that you’re gonna need a safe word.”

  “I love it,” Ava choked out.

  “But can you breathe?”

  Ava nodded. “Some.”

  “Okay.” Carmela had just noticed a chiffon dress way at the very bottom of the garment bag. It was a long dress that was almost the same deep red color of her nails. She pulled it out and smiled. It had a sweetheart neckline and a nice flowy skirt. She decided it was modest but not veering into Amish territory. It could probably work.

  The dress slid over her body like hot butter on a biscuit. “What do you think?” Carmela asked.

  “Good,” Ava gasped. “Pretty. Even matches your nails.”

  “You want me to unzip you?”

  Ava nodded. “I need a breather while we do our makeup. Then it’s back to the old bondage and discipline.” She picked up an oversized tote bag and dumped the contents onto the coffee table. Compacts shot out like hand grenades, and lipsticks glanced off the table like bullets. “I brought everything we need to get glam.”

  “The glam squad,” Carmela said. She was usually okay with just lipstick and mascara, but this was a special occasion.

  Ava held up a silver compact and twirled a fluffy pink brush. “How about we add a touch of shimmer to your décolletage?”

  “You think I need it?”

  Ava cocked her head. “Please.”

  Carmela threw back her shoulders. “Okay, let’s go for it.”

  They patted on makeup base, lined their eyes, arched their brows, and spackled on highlighter.

  “This is fun,” Ava said. “Like playing dress-up.” She swirled a flat brush in a palette of blusher and aimed it at Carmela. “You need powder on your cheekbones, too.”

  “Just a dab,” Carmela said, as Ava dabbed away.

  Ava pursed her lips and studied them in the mirror. “My lipstick. Should I go with lilac or lavender?”

  “Which color’s more of a cool blue?” Carmela asked.

  “Um, probably the lavender.”

  “Then that’s the one.” Carmela finished with a hit of Dior’s lip gloss in Vertigo. Then she fluffed her hair, which was always easy, and said, “What do you think?” She was waiting for a critique from Ava. Instead she got praise.

  “You look fantastic,” Ava declared. “If Babcock saw you now he’d never let you leave the house without himself as your escort.”

  Carmela laughed as she threw her lipstick into her black satin clutch and then set it next to Ava’s larger beaded bag. “Now if we can just . . .”

  The telephone rang, interrupting her train of thought.

  Carmela snatched it up. “Hello?”

  It was Babcock. Which i
nstantly put her on high alert. “How’d your meeting with the big muckety-mucks go?” she asked.

  “It got delayed,” Babcock said. “I’m just heading in there now.”

  “Okay.”

  “Listen, when I’m done here I’d like to drop by.”

  Carmela wavered. “Um. I’m not sure . . .”

  “Wait a minute,” Babcock said. “Are you on your way out? For the evening?”

  “Something like that.”

  There was a slight edge to his voice. “Where are you off to?”

  Carmela hesitated a fraction of a second longer than she should have, allowing Babcock to pretty much figure it out.

  “Holy crap, Carmela, you and Ava are headed for that casino party, aren’t you?”

  “Uh . . . yes.”

  “Carmela, I don’t think you should go to that party.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s just a silly casino party. With a bunch of local politicos.”

  Babcock was firm. “I’d rather you not mingle with that particular crowd.”

  “Really,” Carmela said. Now there was an edge to her voice. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Then I’m going to send someone over there.”

  “To keep an eye on me? Are you serious?”

  “Completely.”

  “Don’t,” she said. “Just . . . don’t.”

  When Carmela hung up the phone, Ava said, “That didn’t sound good.”

  Carmela flapped a hand. “That was just Babcock being overly protective.”

  “Nice of him,” Ava said.

  “Sometimes.”

  The phone rang again.

  “There,” Ava said. “I bet he’s calling back to apologize.”

  “You think?” Carmela grabbed the phone for a second time.

  But it wasn’t Babcock at all. It was Boyd Bellamy, her landlord at Memory Mine.

  “Carmela?” he said in his squawky old-man voice.

  “Yes?”

  “There’s a problem.”

  With the rent? No, I just sent it in. “What’s wrong?”

  “Some jackhole smashed your front window,” Bellamy said.

  “At my shop? At Memory Mine?” Carmela was stunned.

  “Better get down here,” Bellamy said. “And deal with the problem.”

  “Is . . . is everything ruined?”

  “Ruined?” Bellamy said. “The place is a shambles!”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Carmela and Ava stood on Governor Nicholls Street peering at what remained of Memory Mine’s front window. Boyd Bellamy was pacing back and forth on the street, red-faced and angry, arguing with a rotund man who was apparently an insurance adjuster.

  “You really got bashed,” Ava said.

  The gently curved bow window wasn’t just cracked, it was completely smashed. Jagged shards of glass lay scattered on the sidewalk, creating kaleidoscope reflections of neon signs from across the street. Fragments of glass had fallen inside the bay window, too. A miniature theatre, a couple of albums, and three collaged memory boxes were completely destroyed.

  “It’s toast,” Carmela moaned. “Our projects are toast.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Ava said. “If there’s anything I can do . . .”

  “Maybe call that hardware store down the street from you? See if they can come over and nail some plywood across the windows?” She paused to correct herself. “Nail it across where the windows used to be.”

  “I’m on it,” Ava said.

  Bellamy seemed more upset than Carmela. “Look at this,” he said, gesturing wildly. “Ruined. This fine bow window is completely ruined.”

  “Was that your insurance adjuster you were talking to?” Carmela asked.

  Bellamy ignored her question. “You have business insurance, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” A long time ago, Shamus had urged her to get it. Now she was glad she’d listened to him.

  “Good,” Bellamy said. “Of course, this is still gonna be a damn mess to straighten out.” He looked around, as if he might catch a glimpse of the perpetrators. Then his eyes landed on Carmela. “Why are you so dressed up?”

  It was Carmela’s turn to ignore his question. Mostly because it was none of his business and partly because she wanted to know what he was going to do about the broken window. He was the landlord, after all. The legal property owner.

  “You’re going to restore the window, right?” Carmela asked.

  “We’ll see, we’ll see.” Bellamy rocked back on his heels and let loose a sigh. “You’ve turned into a not-so-desirable tenant, it seems.”

  Carmela was incredulous. “What? You’re upset with me?”

  Bellamy gave a guttural harrumph that Carmela took to be an affirmative answer.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with this,” Carmela said, furious now. “A pack of crazy vandals did this. Probably a bunch of marauding drunks from one of the bars on Bourbon Street.”

  Bellamy wasn’t convinced. “You never know. You could have brought this on yourself.”

  “What?” Carmela said again. “I offended somebody with my floral scrapbook designs and miniature theatres? Are you serious? Are you crazy?”

  Ava tapped her on the shoulder. “The hardware store guy is here.”

  “Thank goodness,” Carmela said. She watched as the True Value Hardware pickup truck pulled to the curb and a tall guy in white coveralls got out. He had a drooping mustache and an unlit Camel cigarette stuck in one corner of his mouth.

  The hardware store guy surveyed the window, scratched his head, and said, “I hope I brought enough plywood.”

  Carmela and Ava watched as the man angled big hunks of plywood over the windows and began nailing them in place. It was slow going, but the plywood was thick and all the pounding and banging made it seem fairly secure. Carmela figured the whole thing would hold for a few days, until they sorted out how to replace the window. And who would pay for it.

  When the last nail had been driven, Ava looked at Carmela and said, “There’s nothing more we can do here. Now what?”

  Carmela shrugged. “Go to a party?”

  Chapter 29

  THE first thing Carmela and Ava saw when they arrived at the casino party was an enormous white tent rising up in the middle of a field like a just-grounded UFO. Moonlight shone down like silver icing, while four giant searchlights scoured the night sky, casting long beams and adding to the carnival atmosphere.

  “That tent looks like a giant Jiffy Pop,” Ava said. “You know, when the popcorn is all popped and the tinfoil bubble top is ready to burst?”

  Carmela figured that with Babcock being so tense, something else might be ready to burst. But after sniping with Babcock, and the shock of seeing her front window destroyed, she was ready to turn a blind eye to the problems of the universe. At least for tonight, anyway. Tonight she was going to relax and have a good time. And what better place than a gala to celebrate the groundbreaking of the new Elysian Fields Casino?

  Thanks to valet parking, they were able to exit their car right at the entrance to the tent. And, wouldn’t you know it, there was a plush red carpet for guests to walk down and a couple of hired photographers to add some glam and sizzle.

  “This is fantastic,” Ava squealed. “A genuine red carpet. With paparazzi and everything.” She clutched Carmela’s arm. “We so deserve this.”

  “You realize that all the guests get this same treatment,” Carmela pointed out.

  “Still, a girl can pretend she’s a star, can’t she?”

  “Then enjoy it to your heart’s content,” Carmela said. She lifted her eyes and saw, in the background, the jagged, dark ruins of the old Enchantment Amusement Park. The half-demolished roller coaster poked up, looking ominous and spooky behind the white tent. The bones of other attractions were starkly vis
ible, too. The humped roof of the fun house, the peaked roof of an old shooting gallery. Sad, she thought. All the families that had enjoyed riding the roller coaster, shooting the log flume, taking pictures there. Gone now. Just a faint memory.

  Ava gripped her arm as they were carried along with the crowd into the giant white tent. “This place is a madhouse,” Ava cried.

  And it really was. Off to their left, a group of tuxedo-clad men and evening-gowned women, all dignitaries, no doubt, posed with shiny silver shovels. They hunched together, giving a token dig into the wooden floor, grinning like mad for a gaggle of news photographers.

  “Look,” Ava said. “There’s Zoe and Raleigh from KBEZ-TV.”

  “Here to cover the symbolic groundbreaking,” Carmela said. “I guess a press turnout is de rigueur for any big new building project.”

  Ava pantomimed a yawn. “That part is kind of boring.” Then her face lit up with sudden delight. “But look at all the good stuff that awaits us.”

  Spread out before them, like jewels in Ali Baba’s cave, were gambling tables, a glittering bar, waiters passing out hors d’oeuvres, a full orchestra, and a genuine dance floor.

  Caught up in the excitement, Ava did a little jig. “Good thing I wore my dancing shoes.”

  “But first a drink,” Carmela said. “I need to calm my nerves.”

  “I hear ya,” Ava said.

  They sauntered over to the bar where five white-coated bartenders were working frantically.

  “You want a Cosmopolitan?” Carmela asked.

  “Absolutely,” Ava said.

  “Two Cosmopolitans,” Carmela told the bartender. She slid him a five-dollar bill and, a few minutes later, two Cosmopolitans slid across the bar to them.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” the bartender said. “But you know it’s an open bar.”

  “Goody,” Ava said.

  Carmela smiled at him and he gave a little salute as he tucked the tip in his shirt pocket.

  “Come back anytime. I’m Tony.”

  “Tony’s cute,” Ava said.

  “Tony’s working,” Carmela said.