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Toxic New Year: The Day That Wouldn't End: The Day That Wouldn't End (Alex Desephano Series Book 4)

Page 6

by Judith Lucci


  Alex laughed, “You need to drink more often, Joe. It only takes a little bit to put you over the edge, and you don’t drink much. Let’s go inside where it’s warm and have some coffee. What do you say?”

  Jack nodded in agreement, and Robert said, “It needs to be a quick cup. Your Grand sent me out here to bring you back to the farm. The party starts in a couple of hours and I think she wants to be sure you’re ready.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “Of course I’ll be ready! I always am.” Her voice was impatient. “I’m frozen, let’s go get some coffee.”

  Robert’s voice was chiding, “Now Alex, you know how your grandmother loves to show you off. She just wants you at your best, like you always are.”

  Alex playfully poked him in the gut and said, “Got it, Bonnet. Enough said. Let’s just quickly have a warm-up cup of coffee and get back.”

  After some great conversation, laughter, and coffee, the three friends rose to leave. Alex reminded Joe, “You know Grand and the Congressmen are expecting you at the house for the brunch, right.” She gave him a stern look. Often times, in the past, he had claimed work as a reason for not attending. “You’ve gotta come. After all, I have done your work,” Alex teased.

  Joe shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, well, that’s that. I’ll be there, I promise. First I need to go up and check on that old tractor because I think someone was up there earlier fooling around with it, or with the Christmas lights. Someone was out there last night during the wedding and I figured it was the caterers delivering something, but not this morning. Then, I saw you guys waving at me and, well, here we are.”

  Jack was immediately alarmed, “What do you mean you saw someone up by the tractor? Who was it? Did you recognize them?”

  Joe searched his mind for a moment and replied, “Can’t be sure, Commander. He was all bundled up for the weather, just like all of us. I couldn’t see his face because the snow was so thick, but I think he had a gun. Most likely he was a hunter. He could have been poaching on the Congressman’s land. Even though it’s posted, we still have poachers every year. And you know New Year’s Day is a big hunting day in Virginia.”

  Jack nodded, but he still harbored concerns. Anybody local who was poaching on the land must’ve known about the New Year’s Day brunch. They'd be a fool to trespass today. He made a mental note to tell either Seth or John Cole when he returned. He didn’t like the idea of anyone snooping around Wyndley Farm, particularly in view of recent history.

  Alex placed her coffee mug on the wooden farm table in the barn. “Thanks for the coffee, Joe. We'll see you in a little while and remember, you owe me a dance. Promise?”

  “I promise to be your partner in the Virginia Reel. We can lead off,” Joe agreed, grudgingly. “But just once,” he added.

  Alex hugged Joe and waved goodbye, as the three of them trudged back to the main residence in the thickening snow. The wind was blowing, and deep drifts of snow surrounded them. It was difficult to hear each other in the wind.

  Jack couldn't contain himself any further and asked, “What the hell is the Virginia Reel?”

  Alex laughed and grabbed his arm, “Commander, you can rest assured that you and your lovely bride will be leading the Virginia Reel by two o’clock this afternoon.”

  Jack, never known for his dancing steps, was defiant. “Alex …,” he began in protest, but Robert interrupted him, hollering through the wind.

  “Let it go, man. It’s easy and I’ll show you. Trust me on this one,” Robert assured him. Jack nodded, mainly because the wind was howling so loud he didn't feel like arguing, and the cold hurt his teeth.

  Chapter 18

  Alex checked her watch. It was almost noon. She looked around her grandparent's magnificent home, her childhood home. Everything was beautiful and spotless, and offered everything you could ever want or expect at a party.

  Wyndley Farm was decorated beyond anyone's imagination. The dining room was festive, honoring the New Year and the marriage of Monique and Jack. A classical string quartet played in the large foyer under the massive staircase while a Dixieland Jazz musician, in honor of all the guests from New Orleans, plucked the ivories of the grand piano in the Great Room.

  In a few hours, the order of the day would be country music, mixed in with a little bluegrass. Alex knew that a local country rock band, with a voluptuous blonde female vocalist, was grinding away in the party tent. Around two or three in the afternoon most guests would migrate to the party tent, where shaking a leg would be the order of the day.

  In the meantime, guests were feasting upon Kathryn Rosseau Lee’s perfectly prepared cuisine. Virginia ham and roast beef biscuits were piled high on silver platters in the dining room, the kitchen, and also in the Congressman’s study. Caterers assisting Kathryn were stationed throughout the house, ready and willing to take an empty plate, assist with a refill, or fetch guests anything they might need to make the day more enjoyable.

  Alex stood by the stone fireplace in the great room, surveying the room and the crowd. The fire was blazing, and Alex reminisced a bit as she looked around. The walls were painted forest green, the furniture was upholstered in a country plaid, and beautifully upholstered Queen Anne chairs graced the fireplace. The room was exquisite, a mixture of old family pieces and newer pieces that her grandmother had purchased for comfort and style. There were beautiful Italian leather sofas with their wonderful buttery feel that Alex often curled up on to watch the gigantic TV that was currently hidden from sight. Pretty soon though, her granddad would open the cabinet doors and many football fans would gather to watch the New Year’s Day lineup.

  “Alex, would you like a Mimosa?”

  Alex, startled from her daydream, looked at the lovely young girl balancing a silver tray of mimosas. Her eyes sparkled with recognition and her smile broadened, “Shelley, I hardly recognized you! You have grown up. How in the world did I miss that,” Alex questioned, shaking her head in bewilderment. Alex’s grandmother often hired young local teenagers to assist her with this party, as well as the big hoedown they hosted every July 4.

  Shelley Dixon laughed and said, “You’re never here! You’re always in New Orleans, and don’t forget, you promised me I could come visit for my senior graduation trip. I’m holding you to it!”

  Shelley had been the pain-in-the-butt little sister of one of Alex’s best childhood friends, Shannon Dixon Smith. Alex was delighted to see her. “How’s everything at Airedale? Are you riding every day? And, how is your big sister? Is she coming today?”

  Airedale Plantation had been in the Dixon family almost as long as Wyndley had been in the Lee family. The estates were similar in size and both were active, working farms. Airedale, like Wyndley, was a land grant farm about 10 miles down the road from Wyndley. The Dixon family had been friends with Alex’s grandparents for as long as Alex could remember, and Shelley’s dad was actively involved in state government. They were a wonderful family.

  Shelley bobbed her head excitedly and replied, “Yes, I think Shannon will be here. The baby is due most any day, and we went shopping yesterday and bought her a beautiful, long, cashmere sweater to wear today with her jeans. She’s excited to see you! And Airedale farm is the same as always, just like this place. I’m wondering if I’ll be able to leave it in the fall when I go to college.”

  Alex’s heart ached for just a moment. She had forgotten that Shannon was pregnant. What kind of a friend was she? Usually her grandmother kept her up to date but with all of the commotion and October, and her grandmother’s recovery, she had gotten behind.

  Alex was aghast. “You’re going to college? I can’t believe you are old enough. Are you off to UVA?”

  Shelley shook her head, “No, I got accepted to UVA, but I decided to go to JMU. I’m planning to study speech therapy and JMU has one of the highest ranked speech pathology programs in the nation. Besides, I have a ton of friends that are already studying at JMU or are planning to go this fall.”

  Alex nodded, “Great cho
ice. James Madison is a great school. I hear they’re giving UVA a run for their money by picking students who’d gone there a few years ago. You’ll have a blast there.”

  Shelley nodded, “Yes, I can’t wait!”

  “Well, if for some reason I don’t see Shannon today, tell her I want to see her tomorrow or the next day, or at least before I return to New Orleans. We have so much to catch up on. I so miss being in Virginia,” Alex admitted.

  Shelley turned her head as she heard someone hiss her name. She spied one of the waiters glaring at her and beckoning her to come. “Oops, gotta go. I’ll catch you in the dancing tent later and we’ll plan my senior trip. By the way, I’d like to bring a few friends and visit the Gulf Coast and do some gambling.”

  Alex‘s jaw dropped and she said, “That’s not likely, but I can promise you a great time and some time on the beach! Plus, we can catch some great entertainment at the Casinos, but no gambling, young lady!”

  Shelley flashed her a brilliant smile, and scurried off to refill her silver platter with Mimosas. Alex watched her depart and, for a moment, felt old. Wow, she’s a beautiful young lady. So fresh and naïve.

  As she turned to remove her drink from the mantle, Alex felt a soft touch on her shoulder. It was Robert. He smiled at her, his eyes bright with approval. “You clean up well quickly! You look great. The barn smell is definitely gone,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek.

  Alex was appreciative of the admiring look and Robert’s gray eyes as he surveyed her outfit. She was dressed in best country chic Hanover County could offer. She had selected a pair of tight, skinny jeans, a white cashmere sweater that hit her at hip length, and a pair of tall, brown leather boots with 2 inch heels. She also had on a triple strand of creamy white pearls, gold earrings, and her beautiful Auburn hair, expertly highlighted with blonde, flowed down her shoulders. Her only other accessory was a beautifully hand-painted silk scarf that she had painted herself and taken out of the steamer several days ago. The beautiful colors in the scarf emphasized her skin coloring and hair. She was a vision of loveliness as she stood by the hand-hewn log mantle, sipping champagne and orange Juice.

  She brushed back her long auburn curls and her blue eyes crinkled in the corners. Her face lit up with a smile. “Thank you, Dr. Bonnet! You’re looking pretty debonair yourself.” He really does look great. Why in the world don’t I just remarry him and we can live happily ever after? Maybe I should include that as a New Year’s resolution.

  Even before the thought left her mind Alex knew it would most likely never happen. It was a pipe dream. If I could just get over what happened years ago, maybe I could really do it. He is one of the most handsome men I have ever met. And, he is kind and caring. I could do far worse, and I know he loves me. But, how do I know he will stay with me, a little niggling voice asked her.

  Robert continued to smile at her and said, “I really could go for a Virginia ham biscuit. Shall we go to the dining room and pig out?”

  “Pig out we shall,” Alex agreed. “Let’s stop by the bar and granddad's study and get us a new drink. Are you ready for one,” she asked, eyeing his empty Bloody Mary glass.

  “I am. Your grandfather’s Bloody Marys are the best I’ve ever had, and I really mean that. You know that I’m an expert on Bloody Marys, and I have had them in every bar in New Orleans! But I must say, that Adam’s kick butt.”

  Alex nodded and smiled. "I know. Everyone agrees, and we both know the recipe is a matter of national security. To tell the truth, I’m not sure if my grandmother even knows how to make them, and he certainly hasn’t entrusted ‘the recipe’ to me,” she joked and changed the subject. “Look, there are the newlyweds talking to Travis Stoner. Let’s go break it up.”

  Dr. Monique Desmonde–Francoise was stunning in her cranberry blazer, white silk blouse, gray wool slacks, and three-inch stiletto heels. The lapel of her blazer was beautifully adorned with an antique rhinestone brooch that she and Alex had found at a shop on Magazine Street in New Orleans. It went perfectly with her outfit. She also wore the stunning ruby earrings that Jack had given her as a wedding gift. Her glossy, dark hair was arranged in a formal chignon, with tendrils of dark curls that framed her face. She was exquisite and looked like a beautiful, French, porcelain doll.

  The groom, on the other hand, was back to his normal dress. No suit and tie for him. Jack had donned jeans, a flannel shirt, and heavy boots for the occasion. Alex smiled to herself. She's never going to change him, but then, why would she want to? They are perfect together.

  Monique was positively ebullient about the snow. She gave Alex an enormous hug. “I am so excited! I have never seen this much snow in my entire life. It is just perfect. I never imagined I would have a blizzard on the first day of my wedded life with this old lug next to me! Honestly, Alex, when I woke up in the yellow room upstairs and looked out the windows and saw the snow I felt like it was a gift, an omen of great things to come.”

  Alex smiled at her friend. “I ordered the snow for you and Jack and your New Orleans friends, and by the way, you look lovely. Did you sleep well?”

  Monique hesitated for a moment and said, “Yes, yes, I did. But I heard the strangest thing. It sounded like a drum beat, kind of like the tap-tap-tap of a drum. I got up and looked out of the window, but all I saw was a distant light in the woods. Did you hear it, hon?” she asked, looking at Jack.

  “Hell no! The only drum beat I heard last night was in my head. Caused, most likely, by the damn champagne,” Jack reiterated, feeling a little sick from the memory.

  Monique shook her head at him and said, “Jack, you probably had your own bottle. Seriously, I heard drums. I just can’t explain it, but it seems pretty real.”

  Alex smiled and said, “You probably did hear them. I’ve heard them, and so have lots of people who stay in the yellow room. It’s the ghosts of Confederate soldiers as they muster for war. Most of this land is a battlefield, you know.”

  Monique gave Alex a strange look and said, “Um. Ghosts, OK. That works for me. We have tons of ghosts in New Orleans, as you know, and these ghosts don’t bother me a bit.”

  Jack was surprised. “OK, so you all have your own army of ghosts? That’s pretty special. I’ll listen for them tonight. That’s actually pretty cool,” he added, as he mused about the ghosts on the Lee estate. “I like it.”

  Robert, who had been following the conversation, nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard them too, Monique,” Robert admitted. “It’s a very distinctive sound. I’ve never seen anything though,”

  Alex smiled to herself. She’d seem them many times, but decided to keep that to herself for a while. Monique interrupted Alex’s thoughts as she looked out the French doors at the mounting snow.

  “I love this place. It is beyond belief. This farm looks like a winter wonderland and I have to say this party is absolutely grand!” She hugged Alex. “I am so thankful that I know you and so grateful that you have done all of this for Jack and me. I told your Grand how amazing everything is – my wedding, this party, everything --, and she just shrugged it off and smiled. They are incredible people.”

  Alex hugged her back and agreed, “Yes, they are the very best and I can assure you that Grand loved hosting your wedding. This party is old hat for her. They’ve done it since I can remember. It runs like clockwork,” she added.

  Jack hugged his bride’s shoulder tightly and said, “nevertheless, how can we ever thank them?’

  Alex smiled and said, “You can’t. This is a gift of love from my grandparents. They love you. And Robert and I special ordered this snow for you and Jack in order to make your wedding extra special, right Robert?”

  “Absolutely, anything for the two of you because I still can hardly believe that Jack Francoise has a wife, especially a wife like you, Monique.”

  “Nor can I,” interjected Travis Stoner, the straight-laced Secret Service agent and frequent head of the President’s security team. Alex, Jack, Monique, and Robert had met Stoner just a few mo
nths ago in New Orleans. They had all become good friends, and Jack was delighted when he’d accepted the invitation to their nuptials in Virginia.

  Alex turned to hug Stoner. “Stoner, how’s that Bloody Mary? A little birdie told me you may have been one of the ‘over served’ guests last night. Is that true?”

  Stoner turned a little red and said, “That vicious rumor must’ve come from the bridegroom, and for the record, we were both ‘over served’.”

  Alex laughed and said, "Who cares, it doesn’t matter. Do you like Granddad’s secret Bloody Mary recipe?"

  Stoner nodded and was about to answer when Jack interrupted, changing the subject. “Alex, who is that guy standing over there next to the grandfather clock? Do you see him? The man in the deerskin coat. I was just talking to him and he said he lives in an old log cabin down the road that doesn’t have any electricity. He says he's a farmhand. Works in your grandfather’s fields. Is that true?”

  Alex laughed as she glanced toward Digger Stildove. “Yep, it’s all true. He has a couple of acres of prime farmland and an old log cabin that was built by his family in the late 1700s. He does have a propane tank that he uses and a wood stove to keep them warm. He’s really a pretty cool guy. If you have time, we should go over there. He truly lives off the land. He grows all of his own food and so on. He's pretty self-sufficient.”

  "That's pretty amazing, particularly in this day and age," Monique added. "Can he afford to live normally?"

  “Yes, but he chooses not to. All in all, he does other stuff besides work for my grandparents. He disappears for long periods of time on ‘jobs’ that none of us really understand. He and my grandfather are pretty tight. Digger will share a very, and I do mean very, occasional cup of moonshine with him, but mostly, he just keeps an eye on Adam. Something we are all grateful for.”

  Robert nodded. He’d been concerned about the aging senator for over a year now, especially since the attack on his beloved Kathryn and the problems in New Orleans that had resulted in the high security at Wyndley Farm. “I’m sure your grandmother appreciates that, Alex.”

 

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