Totlandia: Winter

by Josie Brown

  Brady realized it wasn’t their son’s shrieks of “Twee! Twee! Twee!” weren’t what put the jubilant smile on Jade’s lips. It was the knowledge that he still felt something for her.

  Still, knowing she’d always mistake his lust for love broke his heart.

  “Merry Christmas,” she whispered after him, as he tried to hop into his jeans and climb up the stairs at the same time.

  Then she readied her camera phone to record this most memorable day of all their lives.

  Chapter 18

  Monday, 31 December

  10:25 p.m.

  “My whole life should be a Stanlee Gatti production!” Bettina rhapsodized about San Francisco’s premier event planner whenever any of her guests asked how she was able to pull off this year’s theme to her annual New Year’s Eve party, Paradise in Paris. “You know, he stages our party every year. Says it’s the highlight of his year. I feel the same about him. If Stanlee staged every day of my life, I’d never have a cross bone in my body because my world would be all sweetness and light!”

  Some of the guests within hearing distance chuckled uneasily. While the Crosses’ party was filled with San Francisco’s best, brightest and most socially noted (all of whom sat with the Crosses on the city’s numerous cultural and charitable boards), too many of them were women whose lives were made miserable by Bettina’s silly club rules. They would have gladly chipped in to any fund that kept Stanlee at Bettina’s beck and call, if it made her human in any capacity.

  Bettina and Art’s condominium was located in the stratosphere-piercing Summit Tower on Russian Hill. While showing guests around their spacious and grandly appointed abode, Bettina never failed to mention that they lived on the floor directly above one of the city’s most revered couples: the former Secretary of State George Schultz, and his wife, Charlotte Mailliard Schultz.

  “I wonder what she’d do to Art if she knew he had once warned the Schultzes, ‘If the ceiling is a’rockin’, don’t come a’knockin’,’” Matt murmured to Brady.

  Brady doubled over with laughter. “You’re joking, right?”

  Matt shrugged. “You’ve met Art, right? What do you think?”

  Brady’s only thought was that he would never agree to invest his money with Bettina’s husband. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the dude gave him the creeps. Still, he would string Art along until the Onesies’ final cut was made in a few days. Then he’d find a gentle way to let Art down and pray that Bettina didn’t take it out on Jade in the coming years.

  He was in a great mood. Kimberley was out of his hair because of her family’s New Year’s Eve ski trip to Tahoe.

  “Will you miss me?” she asked him.

  It was pathetic that she was still hopeful about them. Still, he had pretended to be disappointed that she wasn’t going to be at Bettina’s party. She didn’t believe him. Her parting shot, a jab to the kidney, left him wincing, along with three words, “every vote counts.”

  But tonight she was too far away to get under his skin. Brady spotted Barry, who was standing next to a very handsome man whom Brady had never seen before. That meant Ally had to be somewhere close by. He excused himself from Matt and walked over to the two men, who were enthralled with a Jasper Johns painting hanging in the Crosses’ music room, and nodded.

  “Apparently it’s real,” Brady informed them. “Bettina pointed that out when she took Jade and me on the grand tour.”

  The stranger cocked his head at Brady. “Oh! Then you must be Ally’s fan boy, Brady. I’m—”

  “The infamous Christian, am I right?” Brady shook his hand, but his frown was meant for Barry. “At this point, is there anyone else who doesn’t know about my feelings for Ally?”

  “From the looks Jade has been giving Ally all night, I’m guessing the answer to that is no.” Barry nodded toward Ally, who was looking out the window at the colorfully lit yachts that dotted the bay. She was dressed in an electric blue backless floor-length sheath. “You see, Christian? I promised you an exciting night. We’re at Ground Zero for all this unrequited love.”

  Christian shook his head. “Don’t patronize me, lover. Enabling Ally’s little game of charades is not how I envisioned spending my New Years’ Eve. I’m only here to see Stanlee’s latest masterpiece.”

  His hand swept out toward the Crosses’ expansive living room. A replica of the Eiffel Tower stood in the center. At midnight, just as the fireworks were to begin right outside the window on San Francisco Bay, sparkly Mylar confetti would fall from its crown. An Edith Piaf double, accompanied by an accordionist, meandered through the vast room, warbling sad French ditties. Backlit plaster gargoyles, all replicas of those gracing the real Notre Dame, glowed and glared down at the party guests from the room’s many nooks and crannies. A Toulouse-Lautrec look-alike sketched the party’s newcomers while cancan girls flirted with the male guests. Their dance routine would begin a half-hour before the fireworks.

  San Francisco’s favorite event planner had also outdone himself with the food. Cater waiters passed around foie gras and pommes frites, the buffet was laden with steak au poivre, coq au vin, and cassoulet, and the dessert table was a fortress of éclairs, madeleines, and profiteroles.

  Christian sighed. “I’ve gained four pounds just looking at the steak au poivre. But I’m not the one who needs them. Has anyone else noticed that Ally’s losing weight over all this bullshit?”

  “She does that when she’s worried.” Barry glared back at Brady. “All the more reason to leave her be, lover boy.”

  Brady shook his head. “If I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.”

  “I’ll give it to you whether you want it or not. I’ve known Ally a long time. No one is going to hurt her if I can help it. Remember, I know your little secret, too. I know you’d hate to get kicked out of the club because of it.”

  “If it came down to choosing between Ally and the club, you’ve got me all wrong if you think I’d choose the club.”

  “Just keep things platonic. That way, you don’t have to call my bluff.”

  Brady left before he gave into the urge to punch Barry.

  He would never want Ally to choose between them.

  Maybe because he was afraid of whom she’d pick.

  11:13 p.m.

  “Where is Stanlee, anyway? And why has he sent a mere assistant to handle all the details? Don’t tell me I’m no longer his favorite client!”

  Bettina was miffed, and Dylan, the event planner’s assistant, knew it.

  He shooed away his catering manager before turning to Bettina. He was not smiling. “You’re right, Bettina. Stanlee is avoiding you. And frankly, he was surprised you still wanted him for this party, considering the issues you had with your last little soirée.”

  “Issues? What are you talking about? I’ve always sung Stanlee’s praises to everyone within sight!”

  “Yes, you’re a wonderful shill, my dear. Always have been.” He shrugged. “But Stanlee is just not used to anyone questioning his bills.”

  Bettina’s eyes grew wide. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your underling said you threw a hissy fit over the bill for that beautiful room we staged for your little potluck last month. She claimed you said that if you knew you were going to be paying top dollar for those beautiful pumpkins Stanlee chose himself, you would have picked some up at Safeway and carved them yourself. Bettina, you and I both know that centerpiece was a work of art! Why, Stanlee worked a whole two days on getting just the right backlighting through it.”

  “Wait a minute!” Bettina’s head bobbled in shock. “You mean to tell me that Kelly Overton hired Stanlee for that event?”

  Dylan raised a brow. “You didn’t know? Let me ask you, darling, who else could have pulled off that tablecloth? He sewed each Liquid Ash leaf onto it himself, not to mention the calligraphy on those recipe place cards. By the way, he relented and gave her the reduction she asked, but only out of deference to you…and Eleanor, of cour
se.”

  “I…I had no idea.” Bettina felt faint. So, Kelly’s event had been a total sham! By all rights, she should be the Probationary Onesie to be let go. But that would leave Lorna in the club, with everyone else’s events going off without a hitch.

  Maybe I should keep my mouth shut about Kelly, Bettina thought. I can always use it against her later if she continues to be a thorn in my side. As for Lorna, I’ll make up some infraction that the committee will buy into.

  Bettina’s mea culpa smile came with a pat to Dylan’s hand. “Send me a copy of the original bill and the revised one, as well as Kelly’s signed contract. I’ll make up the difference. And I’ll make sure Stanlee gets a bonus for the fabulous job you did tonight.”

  They made up with an air kiss.

  Art would howl like a stuck pig when he saw this bill. Even before the invitations for the party went out, he had been complaining that this annual shindig was a waste of money, and that this was the very last one they’d ever throw.

  “One commission off Brady Pierce makes it worthwhile,” she had retorted. “If he sees how revered we are, he’ll bite because he wants to play in our sandbox.”

  If Art could just keep away from chatting up the cancan girls…

  She looked up at the loft, where he was schmoozing Jade. Good, she thought. If Jade is how he gets to Brady, then so be it.

  11:31 p.m.

  “I know where I’ve met you before.”

  Art’s voice sent a chill up Jade’s spine. She didn’t turn around because she was afraid to see the grin on his face.

  Bluff, she warned herself. Call his bluff.

  “We met at Halloween,” she answered innocently.

  “Yeah, okay. Play it coy.” He cupped her ass and she jumped with a start. “Two words: Condor Club.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The way her voice quivered told him otherwise.

  “Don’t worry, Jade. I know that party’s over.” He shrugged. “But we can still be friends, if you catch my drift.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

  “Cut the bullshit.” His tone told her that he meant business. “What you have to offer me isn’t between your legs. All I want is for Brady to throw a little cash my way. It’s a win-win for everyone. I don’t squeal on you, I get a fat commission, and he actually makes a little money. And your secret is safe with me.”

  “He knows all about me and the Condor.”

  “Yeah, but Bettina doesn’t.”

  He had a point there, and she knew it.

  A win-win. For everyone. He’s right. Brady has to invest his money with someone. Why not Art?

  But she had no say-so at all where Brady’s money went.

  Hell, she had no say-so at all about anything in Brady’s life. The purple thong was proof of that.

  She nodded. “I’ll…I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Good girl.” He gave her a love pat to seal the deal.

  Right then, he noticed Kelly looking up at him. “Oh fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

  Jade resisted the urge to slap his face. Instead, she ran away as quickly as she could. She had to find Brady, fast. But where was he?

  11:36 p.m.

  Why that son of a bitch, thought Kelly. Why the hell is Art touching Jade Pierce’s ass?

  How he would pay for that transgression! She had recently carved a new paddle out of solid oak, with eight quarter-inch holes drilled through it, so that there would be no wind resistance whatsoever. Yeah, now that would do just the trick.

  “You know, I’ve figured you out,” Matt was saying to her.

  His words struck Kelly like a lightning bolt. She forced her lips into a smile. “Oh yeah? How so?”

  “I’ve been doing some soul searching, trying to see if my memories of prep school and college match up to yours.” He leaned back against the wall. His whole body seemed relaxed, except for his eyes. “I’ll be honest with you, Kelly. Other than the few times I remember Bettina screaming at you on the phone, or a time or two when you hung out at our house kissing up to my mom, there is nothing that rings a bell. So why are you doing it?”

  Kelly shook her head. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

  “I’m asking why you’re playing this little game. About us. Only there isn’t any ‘us.’ At least, not as far as I’m concerned.”

  “You’re getting old, Matt. You’ve lost a few too many brain cells. All that pot you smoked at Berkeley is taking its toll.”

  “No, Kelly. When it comes to the women who’ve made an impression on me, I never fog over.”

  Before he could say another word, she leaned in and kissed him.

  It took him by surprise.

  He may have wanted to think that’s why he didn’t pull back, but Kelly knew better. Matt Connaught wanted her to seduce him.

  But would he go as far as Art Cross? Probably not. So why bother? When it came to getting the better of Bettina, Art was the real prize.

  The thought of that made her double over with laughter.

  Her reaction confused both Matt and Art.

  Matt’s response was to walk away.

  Art’s was to follow Kelly’s command, which was given with the tilt of her head, toward the master bedroom.

  11:40 p.m.

  “I want to thank you again, Doctor, for your discretion.” The words tumbled out of Lorna. “I’m scared for Dante. For his future, of what people will think of him. I don’t even know how our family will take the news about his…his condition.”

  She knew Bettina’s party was the wrong place and the wrong time to bring up her feelings to Dr. Remfeld, but for once, she didn’t care. Too many Black Russians would do that.

  The doctor’s nod was slight, his smile sympathetic. “Lorna, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Dante’s autism isn’t your fault. No one can blame you for that. And they certainly can’t blame him for it, either.”

  “I guess deep down, I know that. And those who love him will come to accept it, eventually. They won’t stop loving him unless they are selfish, mean fools. But that’s the point, we live in a cruel world, one in which we’re judged by perception, as opposed to reality.”

  Dr. Remfeld patted her hand. “Dante has a very wise mother who is willing to fight for him. That will take him very far in life.”

  “Thank you. But…I can’t do it alone.”

  “I take it you still haven’t told your husband.”

  Lorna shook her head.

  “Told me what?”

  Lorna turned around to find Matt standing directly behind them.

  Dr. Remfeld gave him a nod, then turned to Lorna. “I wouldn’t normally advise a New Year’s Eve party as the time or the place, but you said it best, those who love Dante will do so, regardless of his reality.”

  Matt’s eyes didn’t waver from Lorna.

  “It’s Dante.” She waited a moment, then took a deep breath, “He’s autistic.”

  She didn’t know how long Matt stayed silent. All she knew was that the contentment that had always lit up Matt’s eyes suddenly went out of them. In its place was a dull darkness.

  She wondered if hers had done that, too, when she’d heard Dante’s news.

  When, finally, he spoke, his voice was low and sad. “Well, that explains a lot.”

  “Oh! So, you suspected something?”

  “I’m not blind, Lorna. I’ve seen him around the other toddlers and—” Matt stared out on the crowd laughing and talking in front of them. He sighed. “I guess I’ve always suspected something.”

  For some reason this comforted Lorna. “I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve done my best—”

  Before she could finish, he held her close. She didn’t realize he was sobbing until she felt his hot tear on her bare shoulders.

  Why do I have to be the strong one? she asked herself. Why can’t he let me cry? Why can’t he comfort me?

  She had a son who, she now knew, would never be the man she’d hoped he’d beco
me. Suddenly, she realized she could say the same about the man she married. She pulled away from him.

  “Wait! Where are you going?” He reached for her hand, but she slapped it away.

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Do what?”

  “I can’t always be the strong one! You have to be strong, too.”

  “But that’s why I married you. Because you are strong.”

  “How do I know that? Maybe you married me because Kelly wasn’t around.”

  “Kelly?” He shook his head, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you, kissing her.”

  He opened his mouth but nothing came out. What could he say?

  “I thought so.”

  “You thought wrong. I barely know the woman!”

  “Don’t lie, Matt. All she does is talk about you.”

  “I don’t know why. All she’s been saying are lies. She’s a tease, Lorna.”

  “I know. She’s the tease, and I’m the wife. And the mother. I’m everything.”

  Matt nodded through his tears. “Yes, you are. You’re my everything.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be. Have you ever thought about that, Matt?” Now she was crying just as hard as he was.

  My face is a mess, she thought. People will ask me what’s wrong. I can’t bear that.

  She ran from him.

  She had hoped to make it to the guest powder room before anyone saw her, but the door was locked. She could use Lily’s bathroom, but if she woke her niece, Bettina would never forgive her.

  Bettina’s master bathroom would be empty. She ran up the stairs, all the while praying that no one was watching her.

  She was relieved to find it empty. In the mirror she could see her eyeliner had run, leaving dark crescents under her eyes. Quickly, she splashed cold water on her face, then grabbed a towel to blot her face dry.

  And that was when she heard the frantic moans coming from Bettina’s bedroom.

  What the hell is happening in there? Lorna wondered.

  The door was open just a crack, enough for her to take a peek. The moonlight that glowed through the floor-to-ceiling bedroom window was just bright enough for Lorna to see the woman—not blond, like Bettina—straddling her brother-in-law.