by Ward, Deena
Maybe it would be best to put off the picnic as long as humanly possible.
The time for the picnic did arrive, of course. Paulina gave us barely enough time to shower and get dressed before the guests arrived. I was running a little late because I had some supplies to gather before I could leave. I was about halfway to the south lawn when Toy came jogging up.
He stopped beside me and relieved me of everything I carried. “Mistress Paulina sent me to help,” he said, slightly out of breath.
He looked quite the treat, all decked out for the picnic. Paulina had taken it upon herself to dress everyone who belonged to the estate, and we were all wearing white. No white after Labor Day be damned, was her opinion, which turned out to be a good thing since it was a warm day, despite it being late September.
Toy wore a new white loincloth, trimmed in silver studs. His wrist and ankle cuffs were white leather, also studded. His feet were barely shod in a pair of flat sandals, white of course, with leather laces running up his calf. He reminded me of a buff, tanned Roman slave.
I shook my head. Paulina had said she wanted to celebrate another age at her fete, but I hadn’t realized she actually meant “ages.” My outfit consisted of a flouncy skirt that stopped mid-calf, an off-the-shoulder top barely held on with elastic and a few ties, and a pair of simple white slippers. If Paulina had stuck a red bandana on my head and a colorful shawl over my hips, I would have been a dead ringer for a gypsy.
I wondered what Paulina had convinced Xavier and Gibson to wear. I doubted it would be matching loincloths.
I thanked Toy and strode beside him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. “So, Toy, does your mistress have anything special planned for me that I should know about?”
He grinned. “I’m not free to say.”
“Okay. If you can’t say anything, can you nod if I ask a direct question? Say, umm, is Paulina going to do something that will embarrass me?”
Toy shrugged.
I shot him a hard look. “Lilly said Paulina’s counting on me being there, so that means something’s up.”
“You’re manning the art booth, right?” he asked.
I knew that Lilly wasn’t referring to the art booth. Paulina had told me days ago that she wanted me to set up a spot where I could make quick sketches of the guests enjoying themselves. She said it would add an other-age flair, though I questioned the authenticity of a time period where gypsies sat around on rich men’s lawns drawing picnic guests.
“That’s not it,” I told Toy. “It’s something else. What’s up? I know you know. Spill it.”
He shook his head.
I gave up, since I was certain he never would. The man was whipped. Well, duh. He literally was whipped.
There were already a number of people milling around the south lawn when Toy and I rounded the corner of the big house. I thought it looked kind of like a fairground, with the huge white canopies and the brightly colored blankets spread underneath, dotted all around with patterned cushions and pillows.
Long tables stretched for yards and yards, covered with chafing dishes, platters, drinks and dinnerware. The party was being catered, so a number of waiters roamed the grounds, carrying cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. I knew some of the concoctions were Xavier’s, since I had spent several hours assisting him in the kitchen on Saturday.
There were several small, square stages that Paulina had specially built for the day, and one was currently occupied by a string quartet which added a lovely ambiance to the scene. Another celebration of a past age, I presumed.
Toy led me to my drawing station, off to one side, not far from the badminton grounds. I had refused to set up next to the croquet area, having seen enough movies to have a healthy fear of ricocheting croquet balls. Besides, in my current spot, I wasn’t far from the gelato stand.
Toy trotted off to rejoin his mistress while I unloaded my supplies. I propped my sketchbooks on my easel, arranged pencils, charcoal and pastels on a small table. The sun was fierce, and I was grateful for the umbrella I would be working under.
A waiter wandered by, and I snagged a fruity cocktail from his tray. I sipped and thought about my drawing and hoped the guests didn’t judge them too harshly. I had only been at it since I arrived at the estate.
I was rusty when I first started drawing, not having sketched in more than ten years. Soon, though, I felt it coming back to me, and I spent many a relaxed hour tucked away in some nook of the estate, sketching the scenery, and the people too.
This rediscovery of art was one more thing I had to thank Gibson for. He remembered I had mentioned enjoying drawing once, and the day after I arrived at the estate, a delivery truck pulled up outside my cottage and a couple of men unloaded what must have been half the inventory of a small art supply store into the cottage’s workroom.
I spent several hours sorting through it all. Paints, canvases, brushes, markers, chemicals, washes, palettes, different kinds of paper, on and on, it was like an artist’s dream. And I had no idea how to use a lot of it. I picked out what I could use and stored the rest.
Mostly, I’d been drawing. In the past three or four days, I’d been adding color to my work with pastels. I’d brought them to the picnic, along with my black and white tools of the trade.
I shaded my eyes and scanned the lawn down to where I saw a thin trail of smoke rising into the air. The smoke marked the pit where a full pig was being roasted. It was there that I saw who I sought: Gibson.
His main job was to tend the pig, and he looked as if he were taking his duty seriously. He held a long stick and from time to time, poked it into the low-burning fire. Tough job, I thought with a grin.
Gibson was all in white like the rest of us, decked out in 1920’s pants, jacket and straw hat. He should have been boating on the lake with a fru-fru maiden, strumming a ukulele and serenading her about how he had no bananas.
I watched him covertly glance around himself. Then in a flash, he whipped the hat off his head and tossed it into the fire. He poked it into the coals with his stick, and the straw went up in a short-lived, brilliant burst of flames.
I didn’t know which was funnier, that he had burned up his hat, or that he felt he had to sneak around to do it.
He shrugged out of his jacket, next, and I half-expected him to chuck it into the fire after the hat. But no, he tossed it over the back of a nearby chair, then rolled up his shirt sleeves and returned to dutifully tending the roasting pig.
“There you are!”
I turned toward the female voice that snapped me out of admiring Gibson. It was Elaine, Ron close behind her, both smiling widely.
We hugged and said our hellos. They looked appropriately summery, Elaine in a colorful sundress and Ron in a lightweight leisure suit.
Ron patted me on the head, his characteristic gesture with me. “How you doin’ darlin’?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Good. Good.” He looked out over the grounds, stroked his beard a few times. “Pretty fancy event here.”
“Yeah, but mostly it’s eccentric. That’s Paulina for you.”
“A fine lady,” Ron said. “Met us on the way down here. Say, is that Gibson over there? What’s he doin’? Is that a fire?”
“Pig pit.”
A gleam of interest sparked in his eye. “You don’t say. Think I’ll head on over there and check it out. Ladies.”
We watched him stroll away.
“I’ll bet you ten dollars that half the men at the picnic will be over there in the next fifteen minutes,” Elaine said.
I laughed. “I say three quarters of them in half that time.”
She smiled. “Probably so.”
I couldn’t resist asking, “How did Paulina look when you saw her?”
Elaine waved over a waiter and grabbed a tall drink with an umbrella in it. She took a sip before answering my question. “Good.”
“You told Ron yet that you’ve got a thing for her?”
“I have not.”
“I didn’t think that was allowed. Aren’t you supposed to tell each other when you’re into somebody?”
She lowered her voice, “I’m not even sure I’m actually into her. You’re making more out of this than there is. I wish I’d never said anything.”
“Technically, you didn’t. I kind of dragged it out of you.”
“Well then I wish I’d never let you drag it out of me. It’s nothing. Forget about it.”
Her face was flushed slightly, and she was clearly out of sorts. I took pity on her. “Okay, okay.”
We watched Ron greet Gibson. In short order, Ron had his own stick and was poking at the fire. I had no idea where he found the stick, since I was pretty sure Paulina had declared war on every loose twig on the estate. It wasn’t like her to lose a battle.
I convinced Elaine to let me sketch her, so she took up a relaxed, somewhat self-conscious pose by the gelato cart and I settled into drawing.
I tried to work fast, knowing the guests wouldn’t want to dawdle long for a sketch. I was curious to see how well I could do in a short amount of time. Soon, I forgot everything, didn’t hear what was happening around me, was lost in the lines of Elaine’s dress, the curve of her calf, the angle of her forearm.
I became annoyed when I noticed Elaine shifting slightly. I glanced up to tell her to stay still, and realized she looked uncomfortable, and red. Bright red. Then I heard it. Paulina’s voice, coming from behind me.
“See, right there, the perspective isn’t correct with the cart, not in relation to how Elaine is standing.”
I glowered at my drawing. Ugh. She was right. I reached for my eraser.
“I’ve told her many times,” Paulina said, “that if she wants to become truly good, she needs to practice more. I even offered to let her draw Toy, while he’s working of course. She could set up near the compost bins, where she wouldn’t be in anyone’s way.”
I refused to respond, just rubbed out a corner of the gelato cart.
I recognized Xavier’s voice. “Hush, Paulina. She’s talented and you know it.”
I turned and flashed him a small, grateful smile. He looked dapper in white linen.
Paulina was having none of it. “Just because she’s talented doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to work hard. I’m sure that if I had been interested in drawing, I would have been great at it, because I would have practiced.”
“And look at that,” she continued. “Elaine has such a tiny waist. Nonnie made it too thick. See how delicately her waist curves into her hip? The swell of it. Ripe is what it is. Wouldn’t you call that ripe, Xavier?”
I looked up at Elaine, and was unsurprised to see her face turning an even deeper shade of red.
“Elaine has a lovely figure,” Xavier said, then under his breath, where I could barely hear it and was certain Elaine could not, he added, “You’re embarrassing the woman. Have mercy.”
Paulina whispered her response. “I can’t help myself. Isn’t she precious?”
In a clear voice, she said, “Nonnie, nip in that waist some, and her breasts are larger. Rounder and larger. Don’t you think?”
I shrugged, erased around the waist in the drawing. “Were you speaking to me? I wasn’t aware my opinion entered into this conversation.”
Paulina laughed, a tinkly, carrying sound. “Never mind then. What do you think, Xavier? Aren’t her breasts larger than they’re drawn?”
I peeked over the paper at Elaine. Poor Elaine. She looked like she was contemplating escape routes.
“All right dear, no more,” Xavier said in a casual tone. “You’ve tortured our friends long enough. Let’s go. There are over forty other people here you’ve yet to embarrass, and I demand each one have their turn.”
Paulina gave a dramatic sigh. She wore a long sheath of a sparkly, flapper’s dress, with fringe on the bottom, perfect with her bobbed hair and the beaded band she wore across her forehead. “Fine. I wouldn’t want to neglect them. Oh, and Nonnie. Save that drawing for me. You don’t mind if I keep it, do you Elaine?”
Elaine gave a minute shake of her head.
Paulina beamed at her. “Wonderful. Well, enjoy yourselves ladies. I’m off to mingle. Come, Toy.”
And with that, she glided away across the lawn, one hand resting lightly on Xavier’s forearm, her other hand holding a silver chain that clipped to Toy’s collar, pulling him along in her queenly wake.
I turned to Elaine. “You okay?”
She straightened her back. “Of course I am.”
“Okay, well, I’m pretty much done if you want to move around again.”
“Whew!” She shook her arms around, stretched her legs. “That took forever, honey.”
I looked at the small clock I’d sat on my table. “Actually, it was only like fifteen minutes.”
She came over and stood behind me. I stared critically at the drawing. I had to admit that Paulina’s criticisms had been dead-on, as they usually were. Confounded woman.
Elaine laid a hand on my shoulder then leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, honey. You’ve left off at least ten pounds and ten years of wrinkles.”
“I did not. That’s exactly how you look.”
“Aww, you really do love me. You’re totally blind.”
We caught a surge of group movement from the direction of the pig pit. Paulina was sailing toward the pit with her small entourage in tow.
I saw in an instant that the pit had, indeed, drawn most of the men at the picnic. There had to be more than a dozen of them standing around, many of them with stick-in-hand, poking at the coals along with Gibson and Ron.
Several of the men spotted Paulina coming, and broke rank, making for other attractions with a rapidity that suggested they knew their hostess wouldn’t be pleased with their fascination for a roasting pig, not when she had gone to such effort to provide other activities for them.
A couple other men stepped away before Paulina arrived in full state. I kind of wished I was there to hear what she said, since whatever it was, four or five more men suddenly discovered there was somewhere else they’d rather be.
In short order, only a handful of men remained: Gibson, Ron, Xavier, Toy and an older man I didn’t know. After a brief exchange, Paulina turned to leave, but Xavier didn’t follow her. I smiled when I saw the stick in his hand.
Paulina said something to the men, but they didn’t respond. Or at least, no one but the older, unknown man responded. He rushed over to Paulina, offered her his arm. Then off she went, Toy trailing behind.
I was uncommonly proud of the three men who held their own with her, Gibson, Ron and Xavier. “Good for them.”
“She’s a powerful woman,” Elaine said.
I knew a semi-gush when I heard it. “Yeah, and she wants your picture. What do you think it means?”
Elaine snorted. “Nothing. She just likes your drawing.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Where were you when she was hating everything I’d done?”
“She wouldn’t criticize it if she didn’t like it. That’s how she is.”
“I see. You’re a Paulina expert now.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’d like to be.”
She propped her hands on her hips, her ripe hips no less. “You’re seriously full of it today. I’m glad to see it, but I’m out of here. I’m going to tear Ron away from that pig and make him play croquet with me.”
“Okay, have fun. I’ll stay here and redraw your boobs bigger, so Paulina won’t bitch at me when I give her your picture.”
Elaine walked off, mumbling under her breath. I grinned and watched her go. Then, I actually did redraw her boobs.
Chapter 6
I stayed at my post for the majority of the afternoon. I didn’t do it because I believed I had to obey Paulina, but more because I still wasn’t entirely comfortable in crowds, even friendly ones, and staying on the fringes of the event helped me relax.
A number of people approached whil
e I drew, asked a few questions, wanted me to draw them. I enjoyed talking to them and giving them their drawings. Everyone was graciously polite, even when my skills weren’t up to snuff.
Most of the people at the picnic were older contemporaries of the Martins. But there were some guests in their early thirties, around my age. I didn’t see any centenarians in assless chaps, which was both a relief and something of a disappointment.
I knew all of these people were either in the BDSM scene, or were lifestyle friendly; Xavier had told me as much. They weren’t decked out in kink wear for the picnic, but instead were dressed in fine, summer wear.
I didn’t spend the entire afternoon drawing. I abandoned my post to eat and drink and take a break or two to watch badminton and croquet. As for Gibson, I didn’t get to speak to him much, only a few words in passing. I complimented his tasty pig, he approved of my drawings.
By early evening, I was drooping and ready to call it quits. I packed up my gear and was in the process of slipping away to my cottage when Toy ran up and stopped me.
“Mistress Paulina asks that you not leave yet.”
“Only if you tell me why. Is it because she’s counting on me for something, perhaps?”
He shrugged his massive shoulders.
We heard Paulina’s voice calling out over the crowd, and we turned to find her.
Paulina had mounted one of the small stages and now stood in front of a closed curtain, asking everyone to gather around for an announcement.
I was curious in spite of myself, so I piled my things onto the table and followed Toy into the crowd. He left me in his wake, and headed over behind one of the stages.
Paulina beamed at everyone and held out her hands. “Thank you all for coming today. As you know, the theme has been a step back in time, and I have something special planned which I hope you’ll all enjoy.”
“I was reading the other day,” she said, “about something that was popular in the nineteenth century and I thought it would be fun to give it a try. It’s called tableaux vivants, or living pictures. The idea is to dress people in costumes and have them depict a still life scene. Usually the scenes were historical, but the most popular ones were naughty. Imagine that.”