Lost and Found in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #2)

16. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

New Year’s Eve 1933

L aura Wainwright stood in front of the cheval mirror in her bedroom and cast an admiring glance at her reflection. Her blond hair had been cut in a blunt bob, and she wore her favorite dress. The periwinkle blue accentuated her eyes. She’d dabbed a little rouge on her cheeks and put on some lipstick. She had a kohl pencil but skipped it, knowing her father would disapprove.

She was anxious to get out and be with her friends. For almost two months, since the death of her sister Lenore’s husband, John Hadley, the house had been like a tomb. She hadn’t seen Lenore since the funeral. Her older sister wasn’t speaking to her, she needed time. She couldn’t stay angry with her forever. Since the funeral, Laura had been holed up in her bedroom, avoiding people. Not that that was necessary, as hardly anyone ever visited the house anymore. But after a dreary Christmas, she decided she was no longer going to sit home. It was time to get out and mingle. She’d overheard the new housekeeper, Joan, saying that Margo Miller was throwing a New Year’s Eve party to ring in 1934, and Laura decided she would go.

Margo’s parties were the bee’s knees. Laura’s parents must have intercepted her invitation and withheld it from her. That was most likely the case, as they had advised her to lie low until things blew over. A new year was just what she needed, if only to put this last ghastly year behind her.

She debated between wearing her good, sensible winter coat or borrowing her mother’s fox stole. It was old, but it still looked divine. But a glance out the window at the falling snow made her decide in favor of the winter coat. Returning her attention to the mirror, she adjusted her brand-new cloche hat, careful not to ruin her crimped hair.

Humming, she spritzed on some perfume and placed two bangles on her left wrist, grabbed her purse, and headed down the stairs.

Her parents, seated next to each other on the sofa in the parlor, looked up at her as she approached.

Eleanor Wainwright frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Margo Miller is having a New Year’s Eve party tonight,” Laura said.

Her parents looked dumbfounded.

“Were you invited?” her father asked.

Laura looked closely at her father for some sign of pretense, but she saw none. “Maybe my invitation got lost in the mail.” She pulled on her gloves. “Margo and I were the best of chums in high school.”

“I think you should reconsider,” Mrs. Wainwright warned .

“Oh, Mother, really.”

“Do you think it’s good form to go over there uninvited?” Laura’s father asked.

Tired of the circular conversation, Laura rolled her eyes. “Like I said, I’m sure my invitation went astray.”

“I would advise you to take your mother’s advice.” The Honorable Leo Wainwright was using his stern voice, the one he used when he expected to be obeyed.

But Laura was twenty-one, old enough to decide for herself. With a lift of her chin, she said, “I won’t be late.”

It was a two-block walk to Margo’s house. It took longer than usual because she wore heels, and the sidewalks were slick with fresh-fallen snow. Chilled, she pulled her coat closer around her, grateful she’d skipped the fox stole. A smile spread across her face. It would be good to get back out in circulation and see the old gang.

As she approached the two-story Miller house, she stepped up her pace in anticipation. The house was ablaze with lights, every window illuminated, and from the street she could hear the music from the Victrola, which she knew to be on a table behind the sofa.

She rang the doorbell and stomped her feet to get the snow off her shoes, not wanting to track it into the house. The noise level increased as the door swung open, and the light became brighter, spilling out onto the porch, almost like a spotlight on Laura. She was greeted by Margo’s older brother, Jim, whose big smile quickly disappeared from his face.

“Hello, Jim! How are you?” Laura stepped inside the brightly lit front hall.

Jim Miller said nothing, not welcoming her and not offering to take her coat. The music blared from the living room, and a light haze of cigarette smoke filled the air. The house was packed with people, most of whom she recognized as she’d gone to school with them.

“I’ll see if I can find Margo,” Jim said, and disappeared into the crowd. She wondered what had gotten into him. He was usually pretty chatty and friendly. At one time, he’d even harbored a crush on her. Must have had a bad day.

She looked quickly around the hall for a place to lay her coat, but without success. A couple of people turned to look her way as she hovered in the doorway of the parlor, and she smiled and lifted her hand in greeting, but they turned their backs on her.

The music of the Victrola ceased. The loud voices stilled, and an uncomfortable, charged silence filled the air. No one approached her. She swallowed hard.

Margo finally appeared, coming down the hall. Laura turned away from the parlor and smiled.

Margo’s expression was cool, and she abstained from reaching for Laura and kissing her on each cheek, as was their custom.

Quietly, Laura said, “Hello, Margo. It looks like a swell party.” Her voice shook as she spoke.

Margo’s mouth looked tight, stern. “I’m surprised you’re here, Laura.”

“I figured my invitation got lost in the mail,” Laura said weakly.

“No, I didn’t send you an invitation.”

Laura felt the heat rise up her neck and travel to her face.

“With all the scandal with your boyfriend,” Margo said, “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have the nerve to show your face in public. ”

Back in the spring of 1932, Laura had fallen under the spell—that was the only way she could explain it—of a handsome ne’er-do-well named Horace Howard. It ended when Horace shot and killed her sister’s husband, the local chief of police. Horace had been running bootleg liquor in from Canada, and John had been killed over it, only weeks before Prohibition was repealed. Horace was currently in jail, waiting for his trial, and would likely be sent to the electric chair.

Laura started to say something, opening her mouth to protest and say it hadn’t been her fault. She hadn’t killed John Hadley. But she realized it would be a futile argument.

Tilting her head slightly, she said quietly, “I apologize for intruding. I won’t stay.” She turned on her heel and walked toward the front door. No one tried to stop her. Perspiration broke out on her brow, and she felt overheated in her heavy winter coat. Nausea and lightheadedness gripped her. That walk to the Millers’ front door was the longest one she’d ever taken. As she passed the entrance to the parlor, she could hear the whispers and the twitters.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, she sagged against it and gasped. Her eyes filled, and she was all but blinded by tears, but she had to get off that porch and away from the Miller house. A couple was walking up the pathway, arm in arm. Laura lowered her head and brushed past them, walking quickly, needing to put distance between herself and the party.

She did not go directly home but chose instead to keep walking. She couldn’t face her parents just yet.

She hadn’t been invited! She, Laura Wainwright, one of the most popular and pretty girls in Lavender Bay, had been excluded. Not wanted. That had never happened before. It shook her to her core. Thankful for the darkness, she cried with abandon. Her parents had warned her, but she hadn’t believed them. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that other people would blame her for what happened to Lenore’s husband. Guilt by association, her mother had said more than once.

The night was cold, and the sky was inky black. The moon peeked in and out behind passing cloud cover. As she walked the streets of Lavender Bay, merriment spilled out of the lit-up houses as people welcomed in the new year. But that feeling of festivity fell short of reaching Laura, and she feared she would be left behind with the awful events of 1933.

Without realizing it, she found herself on Pearl Street. She paused in front of Lenore’s house, the only one on the street not lit up like a Christmas tree. It was shrouded in darkness. It looked lifeless.

She stood there for a long time, until she could no longer feel her toes. Behind those darkened windows was her sister. If only she could see her and say she was sorry. Lenore was due with a baby any day; it should have been a happy time for her.

Snow swirled around Laura. Into the darkness, she whispered, “What have I done?”

The first morning of the new year was bright and sunny and beautiful. The snowscape glittered, and the sky was a clear blue. Laura tried to see it as a portent of better days, but that was difficult in light of the events of the previous evening.

She’d waited to return home until she was sure her parents had gone to bed. They’d kept lights on for her on the front porch and in the parlor.

Now it was mid-morning, and she figured she better head downstairs for breakfast before her mother came looking for her.

Her parents were speaking quietly to each other but stopped when she entered the dining room.

“Happy New Year, Laura,” her mother and father said together.

“Happy New Year.”

Her mother scrutinized her. “How was the party? You didn’t stay late.”

Laura shook her head and pulled out a chair to sit down. She looked at the breakfast dishes but didn’t feel hungry. She reached for a piece of toast, figuring she’d be able to get that down. “No, it was kind of a bust. And I was tired, so I left early.”

There was no way she’d tell them of her humiliation at the hands of people who had once been her friends. Especially after they’d warned her not to go.

“Were there a lot of young people there?” her father asked.

She nodded, taking a bite of toast. She chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of tea. “The usual crowd. People I went to school with.”

Her parents didn’t ask any more questions, and she was grateful for that. She continued to eat her breakfast in silence .

When Leo was out of earshot, Laura’s mother poured more tea into their cups. “I suspect it didn’t go as well as you’ve led us to believe,” she remarked.

Ashamed of being caught in a lie, Laura bowed her head. “No,” she admitted, and poured out the whole humiliating story.

Her mother sighed. “It was as I thought.”

“I was foolish to go over there.”

“Yes, but you’ll learn. It’s not all about you all the time, Laura.”

She looked at her mother. Those were harsh words. She and her mother had always been close. They liked the same things. They were two peas in the same pod, as her mother liked to say.

“I know that,” Laura said. But did she really?

“Sometimes I wonder if you do. What has happened is a great tragedy, and whether it’s right or wrong, people are going to paint you with the same brush as Horace Howard.”

Laura almost winced at the mention of his name. How one person could cause so much damage was beyond her. And she’d been a party to it, finding him exciting at the time.

“Laura, it’s important that I say a few things to you. And they may be difficult to hear, but you must hear them nonetheless.”

She’d never seen her mother so serious.

“For good or bad,” Eleanor said, “I’ve coddled you all your life. You and I have an extremely close bond. It’s been like that ever since you were born, in the same way Lenore gravitated toward your father. It’s just the way it is. ”

This warmed Laura. Despite everything that had happened, her mother still loved her. That was a relief.

Eleanor went on. “But sometimes, I have not been as firm with you in the discipline department as I probably should have. And there are times when you are a very selfish individual.”

If her mother intended to shock or hurt her, she’d hit the target.

“That’s a mean thing to say, Mother.”

“Sometimes the truth hurts.”

Laura didn’t know what to say to that. She looked at her teacup, the tea growing cold.

“But it’s not too late for you to turn yourself around and become a better person.”

“Gee, Mother, you make it sound like I’m destined for prison.” This was a distressing conversation. Laura Wainwright needed to be rehabilitated? Gosh .

The severity of her mother’s expression softened. “Oh goodness, no. But think about the way you were treated last night at Margo Miller’s house.”

Laura shuddered; she’d prefer never to repeat that experience.

“If you keep on making mistakes in your personal life by picking men who are no good, you will be treated like that for the rest of your life.”

Laura snorted. “How do you know I won’t be treated like this for the rest of my life anyway?” She couldn’t see people ever welcoming her anywhere again.

“You won’t be. It seems impossible right now but with time, memories of the events will fade, and people will forget or move on. ”

Laura looked down, fingering the hem of the tablecloth. “I am so sorry for all the pain I’ve caused Lenore. I wish I could go back and do everything over.”

Eleanor sighed. “Your sister is going through a terrible time right now. It’s awful what has happened.”

Laura felt the tears welling up but pulled herself together. “But will she ever forgive me? Ever talk to me again?” She couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life not talking to her sister. She’d never have thought she’d miss her as much as she did. She ached to see her, and she wanted to see her new baby when it was born. She wondered if she’d be allowed, but she dared not voice that. Not yet.

“Again, she’ll need time. But your sister isn’t the type to hold a grudge. Not even over this.”

Laura digested what her mother had said and decided to try and listen for once.

“Now,” Eleanor said, “on to other things. I’m going to take the train to see Aunt Millicent next week. Would you like to go with me?”

Aunt Millicent was her mother’s older sister, who lived outside of Cleveland. “Yes, please. How long are we going for?”

“A week. Aunt Millicent would like to see you.”

To get away from Lavender Bay for a week would be good. And the fact that there was someone out there who wanted her company lifted Laura’s spirits slightly.