Second Chances in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #3)

39. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

1952

D iana didn’t know why she let Laura and Joy talk her into going to the charity event at the Lavender Bay Country Club that evening. She must have been having a weak moment. Country clubs weren’t really her style. Not that she’d ever been in one, but she had a general idea of the type of people who frequented such places: people not like her. Her friends approached it from the philanthropic angle, arguing that the event, hosted by Grace Gibson and her father, would benefit the local VFW. That brought to mind her one visit to the VFW and the number of veterans who visited her for alterations or mending or laundering or ironing. She felt compelled to go.

As she dressed, she grumbled, irritated. What more did her friends want? She was working full time as a seamstress out of her home, she went to Joy’s every Sunday for dinner with Laura and Edwin, and she went to the beach with them and their kids. A couple of nights a week, she played chess with Mark. And as her mother had developed terrible arthritis, Diana did all the grocery shopping. From time to time, she went out to lunch with Laura and Joy, when Laura had a day off from her job.

But dinner and dancing? That was more of a couples’ thing, and she’d be there alone, without a date, without a boyfriend. Without a husband . She would have preferred to stay at home. Who knew, maybe Mark would stop over. Though they’d seen less and less of him as of late. Diana was convinced he had a girlfriend, but her mother didn’t think so.

She must have looked at her reflection a hundred times in the mirror. She was a long way from the young and pretty nineteen-year-old she’d once been. The years were piling on; she’d had her thirtieth birthday recently, and the idea of having children grew slimmer with each passing year.

The fashion of the 1950s dictated a fuller skirt on a dress and a cinched waist, usually with a thin belt. Poodle skirts were all the rage—she’d made a couple for Laura’s girls—but she felt she was too old to pull off that particular look and besides, she wasn’t that crazy about them. But that night, she wore a creation she’d made herself after seeing it in Vogue magazine. She’d ordered a similar pattern and bought enough red velvet material to make the dress and a matching headscarf.

Her mother’s image appeared behind her in the mirror’s reflection. Millie Quinn was the mature version of her. Diana could always guess what she’d look like in twenty years by simply looking at her mother.

“Diana, you look lovely.”

“Do I?” she asked, her voice full of doubt. She felt once people’s eyes landed on the headscarf, especially those who knew her backstory, they didn’t notice anything else about her. She fingered the St. Anthony medal around her neck. Not that she was the praying type, but she thought, Help me find some confidence and relief tonight . Not for the first time, she wondered why she couldn’t just be left alone to stay home. Home was safe. Not to mention more entertaining now that they had a brand-new television.

Biting her lip, Diana said, “Maybe I’ll stay in. I’ll call Laura and tell her I have a headache.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Millie said. “You’re going out tonight. Besides, you used that excuse the last time.”

Diana couldn’t help but laugh. “I remember a time when you said I was going out too much.”

“Yes, well,” her mother stammered, “that was then, and this is now.” She placed her hands on her daughter’s waist and propelled her out of the room. “This will be good for you. I promise.”

“The country club?”

“Never mind all that pomp and circumstance. It’s for charity. A worthy cause.”

Even Diana had to laugh. As soon as they reached the parlor, there was a knock at the front door.

It was Laura, who brought in with her the familiar scent of Shalimar. Edwin waited in the car idling at the curb.

Laura Wainwright Knickerbocker was now in her early forties and although she’d matured, she was still as pretty as ever with her blond hair and blue eyes. She wore a fashionable dress of cornflower blue that matched her eyes. Diana thought she was lucky. Edwin worshipped the ground she walked on, and she had the freedom to spend her paycheck from Block Answering Service on things like dresses and furniture for her house.

“You look lovely, Diana. Did you make that dress?” Laura asked.

“I did. What do you think of the color?” Diana asked, holding out the sides of the skirt to give Laura the full effect.

“I love it. It’s beautiful.”

“We should go.” Diana turned to her mother and said, “I won’t be late, Ma.”

“Stay as long as you want,” her mother encouraged.

Boy, I must be a sad tale if my mother is telling me to stay out all night , Diana thought.

As they walked toward the car, the music floated out from the radio. The evening was comfortably warm, and the sky was bright pink with broad strokes of lavender. There was the sound of crickets and of a train going by in the distance.

“Is this the girls’ first night without a babysitter?” Diana asked Laura. Her friend had mentioned that Edna and Edith thought they were too old for a sitter and wanted to stay home alone.

Laura rolled her eyes. “It is, although they were bickering over the boy next door when we left. Edwin hopes the house is still standing by the time we get home.”

She pushed the front seat forward so Diana could climb into the back.

“Hiya, Diana,” Edwin said as she settled in the back seat, smoothing her dress out beneath her so she wouldn’t wrinkle it.

Laura looked over her shoulder and said, “Joy and Sam will meet us there.”

Diana nodded, wishing she didn’t have to go. Fingering the medal again, she determined she would have a good time. Or at least try.