Sunday, June 17, 2018

The Party

The streaming sun shocks me awake. The bed is empty and cold. I run my hand over where he had been and my heart aches. My whole body aches as I try to get up. Why do I sleep so hard when I’m with him? His warmth is some magical sleep elixir it’s the only reasonable explanation. I drag myself to the shower and let the warm water pour over me. Nothing will ever be as good as his warmth though.
I put my head to the shower wall. I want to be the kind of person who can dive in and thrive. But no matter how easy I try to make it look, I will always be struggling. People scare me. Life scares me. That’s different here for some reason. This house makes me different. He makes me different. It’s easier to pretend for him.
Katie comes in with breakfast as I’m getting dressed. I consider hiding in the closet just to avoid having to do more work. But better judgment wins out in the end. If I don’t come out she might make me reorder the closet too.
“Are you excited for tonight, Miss Julie?”
I poke my head out of the closet. “What’s tonight?”
“The party, Miss!” she says throwing her hands in the air.
In all the preparations I’ve lost track of the day. I barely have my shirt on before I’m out the door. There’s no time, with so much left to do. I run down to the kitchen and cook is already furiously baking. I don’t even have to ask, she just puts me right to work. We cut puffs, whip dips, and bake, bake, bake! I don’t think I’ve ever cooked so much in my life.
I get pulled up stairs to review flower arrangements. The house is beautiful. Big arrangements of roses are on every table. The rooms were themed in different colors. The ballroom is purple and green and brilliant with little drips of gold. The grand hall is blue with silver garlands. The dining room is read with gold ribbons. It goes on and on, every room more spectacular than the last. It’s hard not to cry.
As the day starts to wane I’m still furiously trying to finish every detail. I’m still piping on to little cakes when Thomas slips into the kitchen. I nearly trip over him standing in the corner.
“Thomas,” I look at him dressed in a tuxedo and looking sharp, “What are you doing down here?”
“Looking for you,” he laughs, “You are planning to actually come to the party?”
I hand off the tray of cakes I’ve finished. Wiping my hand across my forehead I turn back around.
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t head up now you’re never going to be ready in time.”
He holds out his wrist for me to read his watch. Oh my God, it’s a quarter to six. I can’t focus for a moment, I’m too busy turning in a panicked circle. I would probably still be spinning if Thomas didn’t gently, but firmly point me towards the stairs.
“Katie is upstairs to help you get ready,” he says clapping the flour off his hands.
I take the steps two at a time coming out in the middle of the hall and Katie waves her hands at me from the Her Ladyship's quarters. I nearly crash into her as I slide down the hall. She helps me strip and physically pushes me into the shower. When I step out several chambermaids that are already made up are circling with make-up brushes and combs and all matter of torture devices. They place me in my towel in front of the mirror and go to work. My protesting is drowned out by the blow dryer and my shouts of pain are ignored as they pull my hair and poke my eye with the mascara brush. I’m on the edge of tears when I’m herded into the closet. Katie is standing there with a long royal purple dress. It is strapless with beautifully embroidered panels down the front. I gently touch it with my freshly manicured fingers. It’s too nice. It’s too beautiful. She helps me slide into the silken gown. I look at myself in the full length mirror and I don’t look like me anymore. I’ve become a princess. I’m a beautiful opera singer about to perform an aria. I can’t even recognize this person in the mirror.
Katie pulls me around and she is smiling. She holds out a pair of long white gloves with embroidery that matches the dress. She helps me to pull them on and it suddenly feels complete. This was all that was missing even though I hadn’t realized it. Katie looks to be on the verge of tears.
“Miss, you’re beautiful.”
“If I am, it’s your fault,” I tell her as I pull her into a hug. It takes all my concentration to not ruin my makeup. I can’t thank her enough.
She steps away to pull out a pair of silken shoes. I present my feet one at a time and she slides on the beautiful slippers. I wonder if this means I only have until midnight?
Katie walks me out to the hall and the chambermaids have already dispersed to their jobs for the evening. It’s already past seven, so the party will already be starting. She leaves me at the galley door and I have to make it to the grand stair on my own. I feel like I should be self conscious, worried, embarrassed somehow, but I feel like I’m floating. I glide to the stairs and the hall is already greeting guests below. Thomas is speaking to a graying gentleman near the door. The conversations stop as I come down the stairs. Everything seems very quiet. Thomas turns around and I meet his eyes. His mouth hangs open. I can’t help but smile. Try and play that off you rat bastard.
He is quick to make his way to the bottom of the stairs, his conversation completely forgotten. I take the hand he offers to me and I can’t help but feel a little superior.
He kisses the back of my hand, “You look like an angel.”
He is so sincere that quickly I grow self conscious. I turn away. If he was vulgar like he usually is then it would be easy to remain smug, but he seems so genuinely kind. He isn’t as abrasive as he was before. The audience has changed him and he has bloomed into a new, less reprehensible man. And I want so badly to believe this is really him.
He pulls my arm through his and he walks me through the hall. He introduces me to all of Wolfe’s guests, most of them older gentlemen with silver hair, some with women much younger than myself on their arms. Some are there with wives, older more proper women. Some are worldly women with sly smiles. Thomas talks to everyone as an equal. I’m the one that’s out of place in the talk of the Riviera in the spring, Barcelona in the autumn and New York for the New Year. The most exotic place I’ve been is Omaha. Thomas, though, he speaks their rich and lavish language. He can hold his own with the old money like he was born to it. That’s probably why Wolfe uses him, these are his people. Blue bloods with too much money are his breed. It what makes him so unbearable, he feels entitled like his wealth makes him untouchable. It makes him an ass.
It feels like we’ve talked for hours with everyone in the house. I can’t believe how many people Wolfe works with without knowing even one of them. Thomas must be a fantastic representative to get this many people to put their trust in a man they’ve never seen. Thomas pulls me to the main ballroom and the investors follow. I feel a swell of pride at the ooohs and ahhhs that I hear as we enter the purple and green room. Cornices cascade with arrangements of Dickey’s finest roses. Everything seems covered in fine dewdrops of glittering gold. The table is dressed in a fine feast and giant candelabras shine brilliantly. The tuxedoed footmen disperse through the room with crystal champagne flutes on gleaming silver trays. Thomas takes two glasses and offers me one. The golden liquid is startlingly effervescent. The last time I had champagne was at a cousin’s wedding, and the glass had been cheap plastic. It had been terrible, possibly the worst thing I had ever tasted. Thomas taps his fine crystal glass with a small silver spoon from the buffet spread.
After the room quiets he begins, “Friends, colleagues, honored guests, thank you for joining me tonight in my home. It has been too long that I have been working with your fortunes unseen. I want to put you all at ease and let you know that your fees are in fact going to good use.” A laugh rises from the crowd as he holds his hands up to the ballroom. “I want to take this opportunity to thank you for your continued trust in me. I know that you could invest with anyone, and it is my honor that you choose to continue our partnership is these often difficult times. So, I thank you all. Here’s to another superior year of partnership.”
Everyone claps as he raises his glass to them. I look at all the happy faces. They believe in him unflinchingly. He steps out into the crowd and shakes hands with his people. A chamber orchestra starts to play an unobtrusive music and people begin to circulate through the food. I let Thomas do his glad handing while I slip through some of the other rooms with the guests. Footmen stand ready in every room happy to provide assistance and drinks where ever they are. There are small trios and quarters in nearly every room. Katie is discussing a large hanging painting in the library with one of the worldly women investors. Dickey, dressed in a fine tuxedo, is discussing horticulture with a man in study where a duet of strings plays. Both men are holding brandy glasses. For a man of such advanced years Dickey is incredibly suave, a real Hugh Heffner type. A pianist is in the music room entertaining a small group of investors as they nosh on some of the puffs we finished this morning. Ronald is running from the hall to the dining room in the most dignified way possible. The cowboys are dressed in their best finery with shining silver bolo ties and beautifully detailed boots. Steven is talking shop with an older gentleman. Their discussion seems rather passionate as Steve describes his horses’ fine blood lines.
As I pass through the library I see a fiery young woman sitting in one of the wing backed chairs. Glinda the Witch is flipping through a book like she owns the place. I walk up to her but she doesn’t look up. It takes all I have to not knock the book out of her hands like a toddler throwing a tantrum. If I did she’d probably turn me into a frog.
“Lovely party,” she says before liking her thumb and then turning a page.
“I doubt you were invited,” I hiss; The nerve of some powerful witches.
She lets the book fall against her lap, “I happen to have a standing invitation from Wolfe’s father to any function in this house.”
She picks up a champagne glass and takes a long sip. She’s wearing a green long sleeved gown and it sets her hair a blaze in a jolt of red. Her eyes are cold, but her lips turn up in an amused smile.
“You we close to Wolfe’s father weren’t you?”
Her smile breaks for only a split second. She probably hopes that I didn’t notice, but now her eyes seem to be screaming. She sets her glass aside and grasps her knee between her interlaced fingers.
“He was my lover,” she said coyly, “but we had a falling out.”
I sit in the near lounge chair. And she laughs as she turns away from me.
“Is it story time then?”
I slide the chair a little closer.
She looks at me with an eyebrow arched, before sighing. “Alright. Many years ago, long before Wolfe was born, I met his father. He was young and vital, a real beast. I rather liked him, and for a long time I thought he rather liked me. Then he decided I wasn’t good enough for him, for all this.” She waved a dainty hand at all the glitz of the room. “I wasn’t good enough for his legacy. What I had given him wasn’t good enough. So he left me. He married Wolfe’s mother. He had a son.”
“A man’s son is his legacy,” it was something someone had said at my brother’s funeral before I went to stay with my grandfather. A daughter can’t replace a son. A son carries a name. A father can teach his son all the secrets of manhood. What crueler punishment is there than stealing a man’s legacy?
“Very good, little Dorothy.” She slapped the book against a little side table. She downed the last of her champagne in a single long pull.
“You’d punish someone who didn’t do anything to you, to get back at his father?”
“If I had thought his father would be as callous and unrepentant as he is I might have found another way. You know he lets his poor wife believe this is somehow her fault? The man is a monster, and not just in the obvious ways. He brought my wrath down on my sweet pup, he dictated the form of his sons torment, and he is the one who remains unmoved, not I.”
Glinda stands and I struggle to stand with her. She is wicked fast. I feel like if I blink she could simply disappear, and really for all I know, she could.
“All I can hope is that this prolonged punishment helps to keep Wolfe from becoming like his no good, bastard of a father. Though, I don’t count on it. He makes the same mistakes even now. He thinks a fine face and fat purse puts the world at his feet. Look at this excess,” she twirls around looking at the magnificence. I look too, and realize how out of character it seems for Wolfe. Wolfe who has lived in five rooms locked away from the world his entire life. This is the sort of party someone would choose from excessive descriptions of what a party should be.
“Money doesn’t buy happiness, and a fair face is only worth as much as the character behind it, Ms. Kansas City,” she says as she disappears out through the library doors.
I trail behind but as soon as she turns out the door she disappears. I look all around the hall, but like a ghostly apparition, she has dematerialized. I wander into the dining room trying to see if I can spot her amongst the silver haired old men. The footmen hustle past with trays filled with more puffs and glasses of wine. I pass Marco chatting a woman up. After circuiting the room, I can find a trace of the less than good witch. My shoulders slump as I resign myself.  You can’t expect to beat magic and crazy.
A silver haired man beckons me over to him near the hors d'oeuvres table. I join him as he picks through a few plates.
“You are good friend with Mr. Wolfe, I hear,” he says placing a few more puffs on his plate.
I nod and he goes on, “I’m so happy for him, I was worried he was wasting all him time on his investments. I’ve been investing with Wolfe for nearly eight years, and he’s made me a lot of money, bless his heart, but there’s more to life than making money.”
He points a pickle spear to the lovely young woman across the room, being regaled by whatever stories Marco can imagine on short notice. She shoots the silver fox a sly smile as she discreetly rolls her eyes.
“Without someone to share it with, money is just paper. He’s too nice a young man to be married to his job. Promise me that you’ll convince him to finally accept my offer and come out on my yacht?”
I laugh, “I’ll do my best, but I don’t know that he likes to travel much.”
“I realize that this house has all he need, especially with you here, but there are great things out in the world.” He points towards the ballroom, “He’s a fine young man, and I expect to see him out on the water come spring.”
He thinks Thomas is Wolfe. He thinks this is Thomas’ house. He thinks I’m in love with Thomas. I steady myself on the table and bite back the anger that just turned my stomach.
“I’ll do my best, Sir.”
I dismiss myself and head back towards the ballroom ready to start a fight when Marco rushes to me and pulls me onwards. His bolo is a curled silver snake, and he even had on snake skin boots. He takes me to the open dance floor and we start the waltz. After we start several more people join in. Soon the whole floor is alive with twirling bodies. Marco asks if I think he has a chance with the young woman in the dining room and I can’t help but laugh. Thomas cuts in after the first and shoos Marco away. Thomas is a marvelous dancer, almost as good as Wolfe.
“So Mr. Wolfe,” I nearly spit, “How successful do you find your party so far?”
He looks sheepishly at me, “I do apologize. A little subterfuge is required to keep the whole system running. But do you really think these people would be as accommodating if I looked like a movie monster?”
He spins me under his arm and out and I look around at the older people around me. They are traditional people, looking for the comfort of a familiar face. The rich, smooth, young tycoon is what they expect. He spins me back and keeps me pressed very close to him so he can speak right into my ear.
“I don’t like this arrangement either, but Wolfe needs to be present at his own party, and I’m the best he has. I’m the face they know and trust. That’s the way it’s been from the beginning. Wolfe and I are two sides of the same coin, you might say. One of us is the brains, the other the beauty, that is until you came. Now the only beauty here is you.”
He turns with me again before the piece ends. He lets me slip away as his investors crowd around him. The party is raging in the ballroom. Thomas walks through his admirers effortlessly. He shines as the center of attention. As Mr. Wolfe’s public face he represents splendidly. Conversation comes easily to him and he thrives under the scrutiny of others. If Wolfe were an ordinary man, as much as it pains me, I would want him to be a man like Thomas.
Thomas steps back and claps his hands to get the attention of the room. Everyone crowds in to hear another announcement. They all look so excited; I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“Tonight my dear friends and honored guest I have a very special treat for you,” he smiles, “I have the privilege of introducing to you a very special young woman of my acquaintance. Ms. Julie, would you please join me?”
He waves his hand towards me. I worry that my mouth might still be hanging open when everyone turns to face me. A tight smile snaps onto my face. The show must go on. I consider bolting, but give up on that when everyone starts to clap. I try not to let the strain show in my walk as I meet Thomas at the heart of the crowd. He smiles at me and I Grip hold of his hand a little tighter than is necessary. I have to give it to him, he doesn’t even flinch and I was giving him a death squeeze.
“It has been the greatest fortune of my life to have met this beautiful young woman,” he says to the crowd, “She is a splendidly talented individual and tonight I would like to introduce her to the world with a premier performance.”
I squeeze his hand even tighter as everyone begins to clap. He steps into me, but I don’t let go of his hand.
“I haven’t prepared anything,” I hiss into his ear.
He smiles a maddening smile as his cheek brushes against mine, “I thought you could play anything on anything.”
I eye him suspiciously as he backs away towards the piano. I smile at the excited faces as I take my seat at the piano in the corner. Thomas leaned over my shoulder and barely breathed into my ear, “Good luck.”
I try not to let my annoyance show on my face as I consider the keys. I lightly touch them trying to think of any music through the blank white sheet that has gone up in my mind. The room seems so quiet now. If I don’t start playing something it will be awkward. Even now people are fidgeting, I can hear them shuffling. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I place my hands and on the keys and press down. It’s a cord. Oh my God I did it. I open my eyes and my fingers pick out Clair de Lune. I can’t help but smile at my hands as they dance slowly along the piano. While the music wraps around me everyone else falls away. All that’s left is me and the instrument in a world of harmonious sound. This is what it was like when I was young and I would sit and watch my mother play. The joy on her face was enough to make me happy. This is what being truly invested in something feels like. Wolfe should be here. I nearly stumble thinking about Wolfe, but I’m near the end. I breathe and let my hands fall the rest of the way through the piece. As I come to the end I look up and Thomas is watching me with a look I can’t quiet place on his face.
I scoot away from the piano and take a small bow as everyone applauds. Thomas took my hand and kissed right between my knuckles. He pulls me in close and whispers into my ear, “That was magnificent. You are magnificent.”
He smiles down at me and my legs start to feel weak. His hand slides across my back and he walks me through the crowd of investors who are still applauding. Everyone wants to shake my hand and congratulate me. After a moment I am separated from Thomas as I’m passed from one adulting guest to another. I look for him, but all I can see are old faces. The room starts to feel a little too small. I push my way out of the crowd and try to catch my breath. When I look back into the whirling, enthused crowd I can finally see Thomas and all the tension I didn’t realize I have relaxes. I take up a position in the corner of the room watching the glorious spectacle. It’s starting to get late, but everyone seems too lost in the splendor of the evening to notice. Peering over from his conversation with several important looking executives Thomas meets my eye. I hadn’t meant to be staring. He dismisses himself and cuts through the crowd to meet me.
“I think I’m going to head up and give Wolfe an update, would you join me?” he says setting down his brandy glass.
“Of course,” I answer. He takes my hand and wraps it around his arm as he leads me out of the room.
The hall is alive with activity as footmen come through with wine and hors d'oeuvres. We walk up the stair to the clatter of dishes and the loud rapping of feet. He takes my hand up the first stair. I struggle with my gown skirting trying not to trip. The dress is really only good going down the stairs and flat surfaces, up is really not its forte.
At the top of the stair he stops. I look at him confused. That is when he grabs my wrist. He pushes me to the wall, hard. I’m too shocked to scream at first. He leans into my body and I realize how very strong he is compared to me. My right hand is pinned to the wall and my left is uselessly trying pushing him away. My blood runs cold when I realize he is kissing my neck.
“Stop,” I whisper, conscious of Wolfe’s presence very near above.
He meets my eyes, his face very close to mine. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night. You think I haven’t noticed your glances, seen how you dress for me? Julie come to me, be mine. Let me give you what the wolf can’t.”
I feel sick, “Let me go! If I scream someone will come.”
“What don’t I have? What can I possibly lack that would make you choose him over me, Julie? I have money, Julie, so much money. I can give you all that he has and more. I will treat you like a queen. You will never want.”
Frantic and angry I hit him as best I can. My wrist aches against his grip. I try to push free with all my strength, but he is so much stronger than he looks. He’s like a mountain, unmovable.
 “You really want to know what he has that you don’t,” I shout, “He’s kind, he listens, he makes beautiful things, he cares about people. But you, you are pompous, self-centered, cruel, vane, and you’re hurting me.”
He releases me very suddenly. I fall against the wall as he takes a step back. His eyes are panicked. His hand hovers in the air. He seems so confused like he’s really seeing me for the first time. He takes a step towards me but shoots back when I flinch away from him. Walking unsteadily backwards down the hall he holds his hands in front of him.
“I’m sorry, Ms.  Julie, I’m so sorry.”
I hold my wrist into my chest as he disappears up the stairs. Katie comes up the lower stairs as I slide to the floor. She wraps her arms around me, asking me what’s wrong but I can’t speak. She helps me back down to my room. Dabbing at my eyes and touching up my hair, she keeps asking what’s wrong. I can’t speak, but my wrist aches. I slip off my long silk glove to reveal the purple and blue of a fresh bruise. She gasps and runs to get some ice. The fingers are easily distinguishable in the color. All I can think is how mad Wolfe will be if he sees. He might kill Thomas.
Katie returns with a bag of ice and some water. She begs me to tell her what happened. I can’t. I don’t want her to tell Wolfe. If someone is going to tell him it’s going to be me. I won’t have the story colored with other people's’ bias. I drink the water quickly and pull the glove back on. There were still people to impress. I still have a job to do. Taking several deep breaths I push back the tears. It’s going to be alright, everything is fine. Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong. Everything is wrong.
I rejoin the party as though nothing had happened. I watch the stairs, the doors, the dark corners. I am terrified that Thomas will come back down, but he doesn’t. Then I am terrified that he won’t come back down. I am left to bid all the guests a good night alone. I hide my winces of pain behind a smile when I shake their hands. The silver fox winks at me as he gets in with his young consort. She blows a kiss from the Porsche window as they pull away. The cars pull around one by one and drive off into the night. And the house is empty again. I am downstairs until well into the early hours of the morning. I can’t go back up stairs.
Katie, perhaps sensing my reticence takes me to her room instead. She brings clothes from my room and I change. The bruise on my wrist is so sore. Katie fetches more ice while I lie in bed. When she finishes dressing she gets into bed between me and the door. I am too terrified to sleep at first but Katie’s slow rhythmic breaths and my own exhaustion win out in the end and I close my eyes.

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