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

40. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

O ne after another, cars pulled up to the Lavender Bay Country Club, housed in a two-story redbrick Colonial with large white columns out front and black shutters flanking the windows. It looked like something out of a movie. The mansion was ablaze with lights inside and out, illuminating everything—the manicured, impossibly green lawn, the profusion of rosebushes of every color imaginable, and the well-tended box shrubs—in a white hue.

As Edwin steered the car up the long, winding drive to the top of the hill, Diana began to have serious doubts. From the back seat, she whispered, “I didn’t think there were this many people in Lavender Bay.”

Laura looked over her shoulder. “They’re coming from all over. It’s the biggest charity event of the year in this area.”

Terrific.

When their car pulled up to the main entrance, two valets with short white jackets and crisp black pleated pants approached and opened the doors for them. Edwin handed the keys over, and the valet on the passenger side extended a gloved hand, helping first Laura and then Diana out of the vehicle.

She trailed in behind Laura and Edwin feeling like a third wheel, but as they crossed the threshold, she lifted her chin, determined to get through it, even if she had to grit her teeth to do so. In a few hours, she’d be safely home and in her bed in the comfort of her room.

The inside was packed. People milled about the grand and expansive front hall and winding staircase, which were done up in floral wallpaper and white woodwork. There were shouts and squeals as people recognized each other and hugged. Edwin pulled out their tickets and handed them in, and was given their table number. Diana pulled out her ticket from her purse and handed that in as well.

She stayed close behind Laura, not wanting to get swallowed up in the throng of smartly suited men and bejeweled and gowned women. She kept her head down, touching her headscarf every so often to make sure it was still there and in its proper place.

Men in uniforms similar to those of the valets moved elegantly around the place, carrying trays of champagne flutes. Edwin held up three fingers and was handed champagne from a white-gloved waiter. He handed a glass each to Laura and Diana. Both women immediately took a sip. Diana had never had champagne before; she liked it and took a second sip.

“Laura! Diana!” came the unmistakable voice of Joy.

Their friend wore her dark hair very short and curled around her face. She’d added bright red lipstick. She and Sam were coming up on their twentieth wedding anniversary, which they were planning to celebrate with a private party for their friends and family. Diana was looking forward to that.

Sam approached her, hands in his pockets, the flaps of his suit jacket hanging over his hands. “You clean up well, kid.”

“Hi, Sam,” she said with a smile.

“Ooh, your dress is lovely,” Joy said with an appreciative glance.

“When do we eat? I’m starving,” Sam said, looking around.

Joy rolled her eyes. “You just had a salami sandwich before we left.”

“Yeah?” His tone was defensive, but there was no bite behind his bark. “That was my appetizer.” He looked at Edwin and said, “You know how these places are, it’s all about presentation. You’ll get half a plate of food, and they’ll give it some fancy name you never heard of. Never mind all that—pile the food high on my plate! Am I right?”

Edwin laughed. “As always, Sam.”

“We’re here to support a charity,” Joy reminded him.

“And eat,” Sam said with emphasis. He said to Edwin, with a nod toward his wife, “She’s been married to me for almost twenty years, and my love of food always comes as a big surprise to her.”

Diana couldn’t help it that she snorted. Quickly, she looked around, hoping no one had heard that. She certainly didn’t want to draw attention to herself.

Sensing an ally, Sam turned to Diana. “I’m right, aren’t I, Diana? Surely you must have noticed it.”

Joy looked beseechingly at her friend, but Diana was apologetic. “I’m sorry, Joy.”

“Traitor,” Joy said good-naturedly.

Sam handed Diana a quarter. “Here, thanks, kid.”

Laughing, Diana swatted his hand away.

“Would you stop it?” Joy pleaded.

“You know how I feel about these places,” Sam said. “They’re stuffy. I don’t like them.”

Diana had a feeling that if she had a sudden urge to go home, Sam might be willing to take her. At least she had an out.

The five of them found their way to their table in the grand ballroom, and Diana found herself seated in the middle between the two couples, with Joy on her left and Laura on her right. Elbows on the table, she rested her chin on her clasped hands and looked around.

The room had high ceilings, and stately drapes hung along the walls and puddled on the parquet flooring. Along the western wall were French doors that led out to a terrace. The sun had almost set, and the sky was beautiful, with fading brushstrokes of pink and lavender. There were round tables seating twelve throughout the room. Adorning each table was a complicated candelabra centerpiece with tall, thin tapers and a garland of flowers wrapped around the base. Looking around, Diana guessed there to be hundreds of people there. She was glad she was seated; she could stay at the table for the rest of the night. On the north side of the ballroom, an orchestra began to play.

Laura was saying something to her, and she turned toward her and said, “Pardon?”

“Are you all right?” Laura asked, leaning toward her.

“Yes, why?” Diana asked.

“You’ve gone quiet.”

“Have I?” She gave her friend a quick smile. “Just taking everything in. I’ve never been here before.”

“Me neither. The country club wasn’t here yet back when my dad was mayor.”

The waiters interrupted them with the first course.

It was a soup that the menu called vichyssoise, which none of them knew how to pronounce. Sam tried it first, lifting his soup spoon to his mouth and tasting it, rolling it over his tongue before announcing, “We’re good. It’s potato.”

Diana had never had it before and thought it was delicious. You could tell the war years and the Depression were truly over. When she was finished, she pushed her bowl forward. The soup was soon swapped out for small plates of julienne salad, of which Diana ate half. She didn’t want to spoil her appetite. Wine was served all around the table. She still had half a glass of champagne.

There were three other couples at their table. Two were neighbors and friends of Laura and Edwin’s and the third couple, who no one knew, had been assigned to their table. They were young, not more than twenty-two, Diana guessed, and were newly married. They hung on each other’s every word and looked at each other adoringly. At one point, Joy leaned into Diana and whispered, “They’ll get over all that lovey-dovey stuff soon. Once she’s been picking up his dirty socks off the floor for a while, she won’t think he’s so wonderful.”

Diana threw her hand to her nose to stop another snort from emerging. Not again. She was at her quota for the day. Even so, she couldn’t help but watch them. It magnified her own loneliness. She would never know what it was like to be married, to have children of her own. To ward off an impending wave of despair, she picked up her wine glass and sipped from it.

Dinner was duck à l’orange with roasted potatoes and green beans. Dessert was chocolate mousse. When they were all finished, Sam said loudly to Joy, “Go in the kitchen and show them how it’s done.” There were giggles and twitters all around the table, and Joy elbowed him with a laugh.

“Gee, Sam, you must really like Joy’s cooking,” Diana teased.

“Like it? I live for it! I’ve told her, I have to go first. Because if she dies before me, I’ll starve!”

Everyone burst out laughing.

When the last of the plates were cleared and the table linen brushed off with small brushes and dustpans, the lights were dimmed and the orchestra struck up. Immediately, Edwin took Laura by the hand and pulled her onto the dance floor with him, her laughing behind him. It made Diana smile. Joy coaxed Sam to dance, and for all the grumbling he did, he pulled her close once they stepped onto the dance floor and whispered to her the whole time he waltzed her around. Diana was happy for her friends, with their lovely husbands and nice families. Soon the table was empty except for her. She sat there alone under the dimmed lights of the chandelier, thinking of her home and her mother and wishing she was back on Peony Street. Absentmindedly, she fingered the medal that hung around her neck.

Laura and Edwin returned, their faces flushed and their eyes bright, both slightly breathless.

“I’m not as young as I used to be,” Laura said, collapsing in the seat next to Diana.

“Excuse me, miss, do you care to dance?” asked a voice behind her.

Diana turned slightly in her chair. A tall, slender man with an enviable head of dark hair stood behind her. She was just about to decline politely when Laura butted in and said, “She’d love to!” With a shooing motion, she indicated that Diana should go. Reluctantly, Diana stood, smoothing out her dress, and turned toward the man.

He offered her his arm, and she linked hers through it. “I’m John Harmon,” he said.

“Diana Quinn.”

“Nice to meet you, Diana.” He flashed a smile and even in the dimly lit room, she could see that his teeth were straight and white. Moneyed was the word that came to mind.

As he led her out onto the dance floor, Diana tried to remember the last time she’d gone dancing. Before the accident, it must have been. A lifetime ago. On the dance floor, he put his arm around her waist, and she slipped her hand into his other hand. The orchestra played “Stardust” as he led her around.

She’d forgotten what it felt like to be in the arms of a man. To feel that strength wrap around you with tenderness and care. Tears stung the back of her eyes.

He didn’t talk too much; he seemed to be concentrating on his footwork. It was crowded on the dance floor and they bumped into another couple. “Sorry about that,” John muttered.

She smiled up at him. “Not your fault.”

“You know, I’ve been watching you all night,” he said.

“You have?”

“I’m trying to figure out what a beautiful woman like you is doing here by yourself. Did you lock your husband in the closet at home?”

Diana laughed. “No, I’m single.”

He looked down at her, gave her a high-wattage smile, and said, “Lucky me.”

The orchestra began the second set, and he twirled her, causing Diana to bump into another couple behind her. As she moved away, she felt a tug on her scarf, and she realized the tail of it had gotten caught in the bracelet of the woman behind her. Panic engulfed her. Frantic, she freed her hands from her dance partner to brace her headscarf against her head. But it was too late; her scarf was pulled off, and she spun to retrieve it. Her breath came in short gasps. The woman dislodged the scarf from her bracelet and handed it back to Diana, but not before she got a glimpse of the side of Diana’s head. Diana’s hand was unable to completely cover her disfigurement. The other woman’s mouth formed an “o,” and Diana hurriedly refastened the scarf and turned around to face John, who stood there, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“Excuse me,” she managed to get out. Turning on her heel and holding the scarf over her head with both hands, knowing it looked haphazard, she pushed her way roughly through the crowd, shaking. In the distance, she saw the French doors that led out to the terrace, and she shoved her way through the couples, head down, finally clearing the dance floor and running right into the front of a man, who held both her arms to steady her.

“Please let me go,” she said, trying to release herself from his grip. But she couldn’t use her hands because they anchored the scarf to her head. “Please, let me go.”

There was something oddly familiar about the chest in front of her. The tie. The scent of cherry tobacco.

Mark .

Around them, the orchestra continued to play and the couples went on dancing. Diana felt removed from it all, as if all sound was being filtered through water.

He looked around and said, “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”