“Christ, Michael, I don’t know. You pick what you think is best.”
“I thought women were into choosing china patterns. When Pats got married, she spent days deciding on the right china.”
He continued to badger me by following me around his house and holding out a catalog with different china patters in it.
“I have other things to plan, Michael. The engagement party Auntie Val is giving us is only a few weeks away, and I haven’t even gotten together with her yet to discuss the details. I just have so much on my mind.” I examined the diamond on my left hand. “There are more important things to consider when getting married than china patterns.”
“Like what?”
I didn’t answer him. I just darted into the bathroom to be alone.
***
Two weeks later, I was to meet Michael at a flower shop in Lakeview to discuss possible arrangements for the wedding. He and his mother had been trying to cram a lot of the wedding planning into the few weeks before I started work in late July. The owner of the shop was apparently an old friend of Mrs. Fagles. I was sure Michael’s mother had already decided on the appropriate floral combinations, and I was just going to make an appearance as the bride-to-be.
Turning off the interstate, I found myself back in the familiar stomping grounds of my days with David. When I parked in front of the flower shop, I sat in my car for several minutes, trying to find the strength to go inside. I couldn’t do it. Instead, I put the key in the ignition, turned off my cell phone, and backed out of the parking lot. I knew I would probably never hear the end of it from Michael, but I didn’t care.
I drove along the bumpy roads and around the quaint neighborhood. I liked this small, quiet area of the New Orleans. It was isolated from the hurried atmosphere of the city, and surrounded by an expansive park filled with trees, green grass, and open canals. I wound my way through the streets knowing where I was headed, but not in that big a hurry to get there.
Eventually, I pulled up to the familiar blue cottage with its quaint front porch. There was a For Rent sign on the left side. I got out of the car and breathed in the air, feeling the tension of the past few weeks retreat. I strolled under the shade of the wide oaks and down the walkway to the porch. I sat down on the bottom step and marveled at the trees and sky. It was so far removed from the other world in which I was now buried.
“Nicci, is that you?”
I turned to see Cora smiling down on me from her side of the shared porch.
I stood from the steps. “Hello, Cora.”
She hugged me close, as if I were a long lost child. “How are ya, girl?” Cora looked me up and down and then the flash of my engagement caught her eye. “Now, I know this here’s too big for a friendship ring,” she clucked, examining the ring
“It’s an engagement ring. It just happened recently.”
“For a woman that just got engaged, ya don’t look none too happy ‘bout it. Anybody I know?”
I forced a smile. “He’s a psychiatrist. We met at my cousin’s wedding last November.”
“He works fast, don’t he? I mean, if y’all jus met last year and all. Why ya rushing things?” Her hands were on her hips. “You pregnant?”
“No. We just want to get married. That’s all.”
“That don’t sound right to me. Most folks in a hurry to get married are usually crazy in love. You ‘bout as in love with this fella as a snake with a mongoose.” She glimpsed my car by the curb. “Why don’t ya come on in for a bit and we’ll talk a spell.”
Her place was filled with musty furniture, worn throw rugs, and a collection of tattered old dolls. Everywhere I looked there were dolls on the chairs, tables, sitting on the windowsills, and even on top of the coffee table. Their lifeless eyes gave an eerie ambience to cozy home. Cora saw me inspecting the collection and giggled, sounding like a little girl.
“I used to collect ‘em when I was a young’un. I guess I jus never gave up the habit.”
She disappeared into the kitchen while I made myself comfortable on the sofa. When she returned, Cora was carrying a wooden tray with two mugs of coffee and a cream and sugar on it. After setting the tray on a cluttered coffee table, she got comfortable in a well-worn brown recliner.
“He sent me a letter few months back. Said he was in New York paintin’.” She paused and blew on her mug of hot coffee. “He sent me another three months of rent and an apology. I kept the place for him for a while, thinkin’…well, hopin’ he’d come back. I jus put it up for rent a few weeks ago, but I haven’t liked much of what’s been comin’ round. I’m real particular.”
“I never got a letter.” I placed my mug of coffee on the table in front of me. I had to move a doll or two out of the way to make room. “I saw his picture in the paper a few weeks back; that’s when I knew where he was. It was an article about an exhibition of his paintings.”
“You mean his Jennys. I saw that article, too.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So this fella ya gonna marry, mind if I ask why?”
“Why not?” I shrugged. “He’s a nice guy and he’ll take care of me. He can be kind and generous and—”
“But ya don’t love him,” she interrupted. “Not like ya loved our boy.”
“He’s gone, Cora. It’s time to pick up the pieces of my life and go on.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl. “Child, ya sound like one of my soaps. Ya life was that boy. Him leavin’ didn’ change that.”
“Yes, it did. Even so, Michael, my fiancé, is a good man.”
“So you keep sayin’. Funny, ya never struck me as the kind wantin’ to be taken care of, Nicci. David would never have fallen in love with ya if ya had been. Y’all two was jus the same, ya know, like fish outta wauta. He didn’ have no business with those fancy friends of his. And ya don’t belong with them people, neither.” She grinned, noting my quizzically gaze. “I read the paper. I see ya name in them social pages,” she clarified.
“I don’t belong anywhere, Cora. So I better just stick with what I know.” I sat back and picked up the mug from the table.
“No, ya jus haven’ found what ya want yet. What ya want to be or who ya want to be. When ya do, you’ll know where ya headin’.”
“I wish I had your confidence. I used to think I had it all figured out, but then David came along and changed everything. I wonder if I’ll ever get it straight.”
“Sure ya will, honey. Everyone does, sooner or later. We all come to our senses. Wake up and see what life’s really about.”
My eyes caught a flash of the time from a doll’s face made into a clock, hanging on the wall. It was getting late, and I knew Michael would be worried.
Outside on the porch, I gave her one last hug. “I hope you find someone soon for your place, Cora.”
I thanked her for the coffee and headed back to my car. Before I climbed in, I turned and looked back at the old blue cottage. As I drove away, I watched the structure grow smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror, until it completely disappeared.
Heading back to the city, the scar on my heart burned. Resigning myself to my fate, I willed my tears to stay away. It was time to forget about the man who had forgotten all about me.
Chapter 23
The night of Val’s engagement party had arrived. I dressed quietly and waited in my room until it was time to go, hoping to avoid another confrontation with my father. He had been sulking around the house all day. Our relationship had deteriorated to casual greetings in the hall and utter silence the rest of the time. He never asked about Michael, or my life, anymore. He would just grunt, “Good morning” to me and keep walking.
When I finally went downstairs, I found Uncle Lance dressed in a very smart double-breasted tuxedo.
“Nicci, you look awful.” Uncle Lance frowned. “That is the ugliest dress I have ever seen. Did the moron buy that for you?” He pointed to the shapeless olive green gown I was wearing.
“His name is Michael. I wish you and Dad would
stop calling him that.”
My father came down the stairs dressed in his only tuxedo and fixing his gold cuff links. He looked at me and shook his head. “Nicci, you cannot wear that. Go upstairs and change. Put on that black dress you wore to Val’s party last year. You looked so pretty in it. I don’t want you looking like a frumpy old maid at your own engagement party.”
“Fine,” I griped, heading back up the stairs. “I won’t argue with both of you.”
“Thank God,” my father muttered. “For once you’re being agreeable.”
I found the black off-the-shoulder gown in the back of my closet, hidden behind a selection of frumpy dresses that Michael had bought for me. After slipping it on, I went to the mirror and fixed my hair. The sight of my reflection sent a jolt roaring through me. I was inundated with memories of champagne, music, dancing in David’s arms, and the picture he had painted of me in that very dress.
“No, you are not going to think about him again,” I chastised.
When I went descended the stairs for the second time, Uncle Lance and my father were smiling up at me.
“You look beautiful, kiddo,” Uncle Lance beamed.
“Much better.” My father nodded approvingly. “I’ll pull the car around,” he added, walking out the front door.
Uncle Lance focused his green eyes on me. “Your father and I are worried about you.”
I studied his tanned and wrinkle-free face. “Let me guess. ‘Michael is no good for me. I’m throwing my life away.’ I’ve heard it all before, Uncle Lance.” I moved past him to the table by the door to get my purse.
“Your father feels that you are jumping into this marriage because of the break up of your other relationship.”
I spun around to him. “What do you know about that?”
“I’m not blind. I figured something was up. Your father told me a little. The rest I got from Val. None of us want to see you throw your life away with the moron.”
I was shaking with anger. “Uncle Lance, stop!” I tried to calm my voice. “I appreciate what you and Val and Dad are trying to do, but it’s my life. Let me make my own decisions. If Michael turns out to be a mistake, then let me learn that for myself. Isn’t anybody happy for me?”
“I’m happy for you, dear,” my father proclaimed, coming back in through the front door. “Lance, she’s right. We have to let her make her own mistakes.” He turned to his brother and gripped his shoulder. “I want Nicci to be happy and if she feels the moron will do that then we have to respect her wishes. No more discussion.”
Uncle Lance nodded in agreement. The two brothers stood side-by-side, staring at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Can we please not call him the moron?”
My father straightened his tie. “I’ll think about it,” he uttered, as he went to the front door.
“Hey, I like moron,” Uncle Lance remarked.
***
Val’s lakefront home was awash in silver and blue. There were silver bells hanging from the trees and bushes, with blue lights draped along the walkway. At the front door, we were greeted by the thumping beat of dance music, and the smell of grilling fish. Val had hired a disc jockey to play tunes in her oversized living room, while the three-course meal was to be served on the patio that overlooked the lake. Waiters and waitresses were wandering around the empty living room, carrying trays filled with a wide assortment of hors d’oeuvres. Val waved at us as she entered from the patio. Decked out in a beautiful silver gown, she had sparkling buttons down the sides of each sleeve, and silver ribbons woven into her hair.
“Well, there is the woman of the hour. I’m glad you got here before the guests,” Val said in her bursting-at-the-seams voice. “I’ll be damned, Lance. You get better looking with age.” She kissed him, then turned to my father. “Billy, keep an eye on him.” She glared at Uncle Lance. “I didn’t invite any fourteen-year-olds, Lance, so you might be bored.”
My father heartily laughed at that one.
“Tactful as ever, Vallie,” Uncle Lance returned, giving her a mischievous grin.
Through the glass patio doors, I caught sight of the glistening gardens. White tea lights adorned all the shrubs and trees surrounding the patio, while several black wrought iron tables had been set up for dinner service. Just beyond the patio, I could see the dark water of Lake Pontchartrain shimmering beneath the moonlight.
“It all looks wonderful, Val. It’s more than I expected.”
“Well, nothing is too good for you, dear. Wait until you see the present I picked out for you. I hope you like it.” She winked at Uncle Lance and my father. “I have to go check on that disc jockey. The guy’s gonna drink all my damn gin before we even get this party started. The bar is in the den. Hattie and Ned are already back there. You know the way. Go get a drink.” She was off again, her glittering silver dress swaying behind her as she made her way toward the kitchen
We all headed straight for the bar.
We found Uncle Ned and Hattie in the den. Uncle Lance ordered champagne for all of us.
Hattie’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Val told me she invited a hundred people.” She was wearing an ill-fitting pink dress that gathered up in a bow at her shoulder.
“I don’t think we know a hundred people,” Uncle Lance challenged, sipping slowly on his champagne. “I think everyone we know is already here.”
“Colleen is coming,” Hattie said, ignoring Uncle Lance.
We stayed in the den for some time before more people arrived. The bar soon began filling up, and our group was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. Some of the guests must have been friends of the Fagles, because I didn’t know many of them.
Uncle Lance was making eyes at some attractive woman in a green dress, when I elbowed him to get his attention. I figured it wouldn’t be long before he was by the young woman’s side, bragging about himself.
Hattie eventually dragged me away, claiming she wanted to introduce to her friends at the party. I met some of the people she knew from her participation in different clubs and charities. Others were friends of the Fagles. While my aunt shuffled me from one group of guests to another, I kept looking around the crowded rooms for Michael. Pretty soon, even Hattie was starting to get anxious about the late arrival of the groom-to-be.
It was close to nine when he finally showed up with his parents in tow. I was in the den, trying to keep an eye on Uncle Lance and his drinking, when Michael came up and grabbed me from behind.
“There you are!” He picked me up off the floor and whirled me around.
“Michael! Put me down,” I ordered, hating such silly displays of affection.
As soon as my feet hit the floor, Michael eyes were all over me. “Hey where’s the dress I bought you for tonight?” I could tell by the way he was glaring at my form-fitting gown that he was not pleased.
“I, ah….” Words failed me.
“I asked Nicci to change into this dress,” my father injected, coming up to Michael. “I wanted her to look…unforgettable this evening.”
Michael eyed my father and uncle. “Ah, the Beauvoir brothers.”
I noticed how my father’s amused expression changed to one of cool detachment when he shook Michael’s hand.
“Well, Mr. Beauvoir,” Michael declared, tugging me to his side.” I guess this makes it official.”
“My dear boy,” my uncle voiced, trying to sound condescending. “It isn’t official until she says ‘I do.’” He turned and strode to a pool table a few feet from the bar. “I was told you are something of a pool shark.” He picked up a pool cue and twirled it expertly in his hand. “Why don’t we shoot a few?”
Michael smirked, smelling the challenge of competition. “Sounds great. Shall we make it interesting and put some money on this?”
Uncle Lance grinned. “Why not! Eight ball. Let’s say twenty bucks a game to start.”
“All right,” Michael agreed, taking off his tuxedo jacket and rolling up his sleeves.
“Gre
at. It will give my brother a chance to earn back some of the money he is shelling out for this wedding.”
“Careful, Michael,” I warned. “My uncle cheats.”
I walked out of the room, as my father made himself comfortable on his stool by the bar to watch the game. I hoped it would give the three men an opportunity to get to know each other.
I investigated a few of the other rooms and smiled at the growing sea of faces, most of whom I didn’t know. I nodded to Michael’s family, who were sitting around one of the patio tables eating—stuffing themselves, actually. His mother waved me over to their table and I grudgingly complied.
“Hello, dear.” She kissed my cheek, and then had to wipe the red lipstick stain away with her napkin. “This is a wonderful party. I can’t get over this house. It’s huge. One can get lost in a place like this.”
“Yes, it is big.”
“Your Aunt Val must be very influential to know so many important people. Do you know I met the director of the New Orleans Museum of Art a little while ago?”
“Val sits on the board of the museum, Mrs. Fagles.”
“I didn’t know that. I’ve been trying to get on the women’s museum committee for years. Everybody who is anybody sits on that committee. Maybe your Aunt Val could put in a good word for me?”
I choked back a cough. “I’ll talk to her about that,” I said, trying to get away.
“Come and sit with us. You must help me talk our Leanne into getting her nose done for the wedding.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“It would make her look more attractive in the wedding pictures and be less embarrassing for you,” Mrs. Fagles explained. “Don’t you agree?”
All eyes turned to me.
Luckily, Leanne spoke up. “Mom, I’ll get my nose done when you get a face lift.”
I excused myself, trying to hold back my laughter. I headed to the steps on the back lawn that led to the pier by the lake. The stars were bright, and the calm water reflected the heavens like a mirror against the sky. I took a seat on one of the benches overlooking the cool, inviting water. Candles scattered around the dock flickered gently in the warm breeze. I breathed in the night air, washed the tension from my body, and then crumpled against the bench.
The Nicci Beauvoir Collection: The Complete Nicci Beauvoir Series Page 27