Chapter Eighteen
Amy
The party was almost upon us, and with Tristan out of the way more than usual, it turned out everything was going smoother than I expected. I had gone into Peyton’s office in the morning and let her know more about April, and I asked her if she’d come up with her one idea for Tristan.
“Let’s save it for next year. Everything you’ve done is already bigger and better than last year, as far as I can tell. Let’s just concentrate on doing it right. Tell me how I can help.”
“Concentrate on the press. We always follow up with guests before the party to make sure they won’t have any trouble. Use the bullpen staff as much as you like, but if they have any trouble with hotels or travel, Thorne Enterprises has contacts in just about every establishment.”
“Perfect. I call the A and B list directly, and let the bullpen handle C and D.”
“Just cc me, and I’ll help stay on top of things.”
“Thanks, Amy.”
I smiled, preventing myself from having a flashback when I saw her smiling back, wondering for a second if she had to do the same thing.
As I left her office, she called down the hall, “Have you picked a dress yet?”
I lied. “Yes!”
Then I thought, shit, shit shit.
I got back to my desk and called our security agency for the morning update. No guests had called saying they had lost their invitation, asking for a new encoded pass. I called the caterer, making sure they had called all of their suppliers. No typhoons had interrupted the fruit distribution channel from Asia, the seafood industry in Maine had not suddenly been decimated by an oil spill, and the Japanese and Chinese master chefs had not been arrested or had their travel visas pulled.
I was about to call the valet service when Tristan came out of the elevator with April. She had a hold of his hand but still looked vacant to me.
“April, you remember Amy?”
He didn’t seem to expect a response. “This is our office, let me show you.”
I cocked his head for me to join them and we walked through the door. I wondered if the place looked intimidating through April’s eyes and Tristan must have had the same thought.
“I’ve been thinking about making this room more fun. But it’s a nice view.”
April didn’t seem to care about the view and just held onto Tristan’s hand.
I felt a bit helpless, but Tristan just smiled. “A little bird told me you didn’t have your dress picked out yet.”
“That little bird must be a walking lie detector.”
He chuckled.
“April and I came to take you shopping.”
I couldn’t think of how to say ‘no’ to that. “Oh, what a treat!”
We went right back to the elevator together, and in a few minutes, Wentworth was driving us to the beautiful downtown shopping center I usually passed with blinders figuratively yet firmly affixed.
The shopping center was situated across from one of the city’s old, rolling green parks. As we got out of the car and walked a few steps, Tristan noticed April looking at the long stretch of grass and trees. The warm weather had continued, and I remembered my T.S. Eliot, suddenly realizing the hard irony of the little girl’s name. This was her namesake month, the one the poet called the cruelest, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull root with spring rain.
I wondered if the reprieve in the weather would turn out only to be cruelty before winter gave us one last shot.
“Would you like to go to the park?” Tristan asked April.
She just held onto his hand, saying nothing.
He nodded and spoke as though she had told him what was on her mind. “Right. We’ll do it after we shop for dresses. There’s a brand new restaurant over there near the water that is supposed to have the best French fries a little girl ever had.”
I looked where he pointed and saw that the green of the grass sloped right into distant outdoor tables and benches, with strings of lights that even during the day looked inviting.
“What little girl?”
They were her first words since she’d landed. I was walking just behind them. I froze, and Wentworth stopped beside me. It moved me that he didn’t want to let April out of his sight. Tristan just kept strolling, her hand in his, and said, “It might have been the one who gave the pig a pancake.”
She let out the littlest giggle, and I heard Wentworth exhale beside me. He went back to the car once we arrived at the women’s boutique. A lady met us at the door, and I had the impression Tristan called ahead. She wore a white dress that fanned straight out cutely from her hips in an upside-down blossom. It could have been made of clouds and feathers, yet had trim, defined lines that gave her an athletic air.
“Hello, I’m Jennifer.”
“Hi, Jennifer, this is Amy and April. I’m Tristan. We were hoping you might have some dresses.”
“We sure do. We also have tea, hot chocolate, and coffee.”
Tristan looked at April and then back up. “We’re saving ourselves for French fries and vanilla ice cream.”
“That sounds delicious. Okay then. Would you like to look around, or shall I pick some selections I think might work?”
Again he looked at April. “Maybe you could show us the girl’s section and help us pick out a few?”
“Of course.”
I had already spotted four gowns that caught my eye. “I’ll just do some browsing. You guys have fun.”
The three of them went to another area in the back of the store. I went straight to light blue dress that just wasn’t quite formal enough for the party. I passed it by with only a little tug at my heart.
There were several sharp LBDs, but I already had two and wanted something a little more special for the event.
One drew me to it irresistibly. I could not define the color, but when I held it up, I realized with tremendous sadness it washed out my skin a bit. I could have just stood looking at the threads with a magnifying glass it was such a work of art.
“We have one by the same designer, though it’s in the blue spectrum.”
“What color is this?” I asked.
“He won’t tell us,” she said with a rueful grin.
“I’d love to see the blue one,” I said.
“Right this way. It’s not really blue, per se. You’ll see.”
She showed me a dress and held it up to my face, and suddenly whatever color it actually was made my eyes show the same mysterious, indefinable glow, and my hair seemed to fall thicker and softer, framed only by the light of the dress.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed.
“Right when you walked in the door I thought this one might do the trick.”
“How—?”
“Amy?”
It was Tristan. We walked back, me clutching the hangar with the blue-green-emerald-jade-God-only-knew-what dress.
“Go ahead, April, you can tell Amy.”
I didn’t hear her at first, so I bent over close to her mouth.
“…you help me try this on?”
I forgot about my dress as Jennifer took it from me. Amy was holding a dress consisting of mesmerizing stripes, of colors I thought should have clashed if they weren’t so incredibly well chosen and placed, with practically invisible, neutral lines between then.
“April, it’s so pretty. Of course, I’ll help.”
She took my hand, and I felt Tristan touch my shoulder. Then he looked at what Jennifer was holding. “You guys could change at the same time. Is that all right, Amy?”
She also looked at Jennifer and saw my dress, which truly had already become ‘mine’ in my head. Her eyes went as wide as mine must have been when I saw the threadwork on hers, and she nodded.
“Can I bring you both some shoes to go with your dresses?”
We both nodded, and I laughed, nudging Amy gently like we were girlfriends in cahoots. She gave me a smile, and we went into the changing room.
I helped her out of her clothes and couldn’t resist giving each of her little feet squeezes, both with socks on and once they came off. She didn’t react, and I was afraid I was pushing it, so I just helped her on with her dress and then I gasped.
“April, look in the mirror, it’s so perfect!”
She did. She didn’t smile or squeal, but it seemed to me her face grew interested, her eyes a little wider.
“Would you turn around for me, all the way?” I requested.
She spun, watching her dress. “I knew it was going to be cute, but it’s more than that, it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
She looked up at me. “Your turn.”
I put my bag down and bent over to unstrap my shoe, but she was already reaching. I sat on the padded bench as she undid the little buckle, pulled it off, and gave my foot a little squeeze in the same exact place I had done for her. I didn’t say anything as she did the same with my other foot. Then I put on my dress, and she let out a little “oooo.”
I looked at her. She wasn’t still imitating. Her eyes were big and round, and she looked up at me and pointed in the mirror. I’d never seen myself like that, through a child’s eyes, and when I looked up, I truly had never seen myself the way I looked right then in that dress. I gasped, holding my hand to my cheek. It’s not like I’ve never worn fine dresses, or at least tried them on, but I still could not understand how this particular one brought color to my cheeks warmly while making the blue-green of my eyes glow like they had a sky full of stars inside of them.
“Well, do we ever get to see?” Tristan asked from outside the changing room.
I looked at April, and we both giggled. “What do you think he’s going to say?”
“That we’re pretty.”
“I think so, too.”
Jennifer had picked out a pair of heels for me with thin straps the seemed at first to be silver but shone with hints of the entire spectrum. They picked up the hues of the dress.
Amy’s were velvety black, comfortable looking but with the slightest heel, and small, intricate flowers that played with the colors of the stripes on her dress.
We walked out, and Jennifer beamed. Tristan’s mouth fell open, and he was either being the consummate actor or was simply blown away.
“I—you’re—what—look at you—wow! You are both so, so, pretty!”
We looked at each other, and I laughed. April’s face broke into a full, bright smile. “See,” she said.
“You were right,” I told her.
He looked at me. “You’re wearing that to the party, right?”
I smiled and nodded; there was no question.
“But, we found the winners so fast. Don’t you want to look around?”
I looked at April. Every little thing she was thinking may as well have been written on her forehead. I said, “I think we’re both in the mood for those French fries you were promising.”
He smiled. “Easiest shopping trip in history. They’ve got French fries, and cheeseburgers, and fish, and noodles…”
Neither of us wanted to change out of our dresses. “We could wear them, but I thought I saw some swings and slides out there in the park.”
She thought about it, then went back into the changing room. I followed, and we changed again and squeezed each other's feet again.
When we got back out, Jennifer had already taken our dresses and boxed them up, but I noticed four other large bags, filled with things hidden in boxes or under tissue paper. I smiled at the idea of April’s closet filled with so many beautiful clothes.
We thanked Jennifer, and after I gave her a hug, April did too. Jennifer teared up, and I knew Tristan must have told Jennifer in advance a little about April’s story. Then it struck me with a certainty—I should have realized earlier he’d had her clear the store for us.
Wentworth appeared with the kind of perfect timing I was getting used to with him, and he took all of the bags back to the car.
The restaurant had arranged a section of their outdoor seating, so it just seemed to turn into a play area for children. A group of mothers were enjoying themselves, strollers parked. Some of them appeared to have their own picnic lunches, while others had sandwiches in baskets from the restaurant. Children ran and shouted, kicking balls and climbing all over play structures.
“What a great layout,” I said.
Tristan nodded, agreeing with me, then looked down at April. “Do you want to play in the park?”
She was holding his hand again but nodded.
Tristan asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”
She nodded again.
“You two go, have fun, I’ll have them start the French fries,” I said.
He looked at me, and it was as if I could read his mind.
“And a cheeseburger for Tristan,” I added.
He grinned and raised a rakish eyebrow at me before turning for the park, and I felt something stir in me that wasn’t altogether appropriate for the setting we were in.
I found a bench and enjoyed the sun. The waiter was making his rounds, and I wasn’t in a hurry, so I checked my phone. There were twenty messages, but most of them were just updates I had demanded be sent to me on a regular basis. Only four of them required a brief response. I was typing the last when one of the nearby ladies spoke up.
“I’m sorry for prying, sweetie, but I can’t resist asking. I don’t see a ring. Aren’t you two, I mean isn’t that—”
She blushed, not knowing how to stop digging the hole. I might have been offended, but she was being so cute about it, the mother next to her rolling her eyes.
“It’s okay. No, he’s my boss actually. That’s his little cousin.”
One mother on the other side of the bench was busy changing a baby on a blanket on the grass. Without looking up, she asked, “How do you stand it?”
I knew what she meant. It was too nice a day to start dodging questions, and there was something about the matter-of-fact way these mothers were behaving like they’d learned life was too short, or at least too busy, to bother with bullshit.
“It’s not easy, but I love the job,” I replied.
We watched him playing with April, his expensive suit getting grass stains already, him not showing the slightest bit of concern.
“She’s sure not letting go of his hand. Cousin you say? She’s so much younger.”
I felt a flash of guilt, but ignored it, wanting them to know. “Please don’t let on I said anything, but she just landed in his lap. Her parents were killed in a car accident a couple of weeks ago.”
They gasped, and all held their hands to their mouths.
“She hadn’t said a word out loud until this morning. I don’t think she’s letting him out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time.”
The two ladies on the bench next to me were dabbing their eyes. The one on the ground had thicker skin, apparently, but spoke with admiration. “Honey, I don’t care if he’s your boss, or what the rules say, you better make your move before someone else does. That is one handsome keeper.”
The lady nearest me on the bench leaned over to me and whispered, “Don’t mind her…her husband flew the coop right after their baby was born. Chickenshit. Not that I’m saying she’s wrong. I saw the way he looked at you. You’ve already got both feet in the door. The world doesn’t let things stay that way very long, you know.”
I smiled, wishing they’d drop the subject. The other one on the bench, who had rolled her eyes earlier, mouthed ‘sorry’ to me, and gave me a wink, which made my smile grow.
Thank God the waiter came by right then. I ordered, and included two beers. If Tristan didn’t want his, I’d damn well drink it myself.
When our food arrived, I hooked my thumb and index finger in my mouth and let out a sharp blast. Tristan looked up, grinning.
He and April were both sweating. Tristan undid his tie and threw it over his jacket on the back of the bench. April sat between us as he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. I knew what he was doing to me, and by the way the ladies were surreptitiously checking him out, I wasn’t the only one. Tristan was oblivious, the only two women in his entire world were his little cousin and me.
April started talking then, for real. When other kids came zooming by, the mothers shushed them. They just listened to April asking a million questions as Tristan and I simply answered them. I noticed that although he looked like he was sipping, each drink of his beer was large and welcome, the only hint he’d let off all day about how worried he had been for her.
When he finished, I caught the waiter’s eye and glanced at the empty glass. He brought another one in a matter of seconds, and Tristan smiled at me.
Even though they weren’t looking at us, I could feel approval coming off the moms, too. This mind reading game was becoming too much, as I could swear I was picking up, good job, honey, that man needs a beer and anything else you might want to give him, too.
They were right, I wanted to give him more than a beer. I wanted to kiss him and shush him as I found my way on top of him quietly one night in his bed, to give him what I could, what he needed.
And I didn’t feel guilty about it in the slightest.