The next day I arrive at Melinda’s estate at around one o’clock. I’m still buzzing from my phone conversation with Kaden last night. We talked for over an hour, ending with a toe-curling session of phone sex.
I arrive feeling confident and even a little excited.
It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party. Once all the tension of not knowing anyone disappeared, I started wondering if my earlier sadness was caused not so much by Kaden’s absence but by my own loneliness.
I haven’t really socialized much since selling my business, but that’s not Kaden’s fault. He never stopped me from going out or seeing friends – that was all me.
Today that’s all going to change.
I stride up the steps to the enormous front doors and ring the bell.
I can hear the live orchestra filtering through from what I know is a breathtaking garden. Even if I don’t really know anyone, I do know that the food will be mouthwatering and the music will be incredible.
I will enjoy this party.
My mantra ends suddenly when a dour-looking housekeeper swings the door open.
My first impression is that she looks like an angry vulture.
Her mouth is tight and pursed, her nose is long and thin and her eyes peer out at me as though I’d arrived at midnight, in the middle of a storm, looking for shelter.
“Hello?” she says and just stands there in the doorway.
“Um, hi,” I say back.
Is there a code word I should have used or a secret knock?
“I’m here for the garden party?” It comes out as a question and I hate how I can feel myself shrinking back.
“Do you have an invitation?”
I just look at her.
Are you actually kidding?
For a split second I consider simply turning and walking away.
To hell with these snooty assholes!
“Claire!” The loud squawk comes from somewhere behind the vulture and she moves aside.
Melinda is smiling and practically jittering on her feet.
Like always, I feel myself shrinking slightly in her presence.
She’s beautiful, not in the warm, welcoming way like Olivia, but in a stunning, breathtaking way that sometimes seems almost inhuman.
Or maybe I’m just a little jealous.
Her silky black hair falls just past her shoulders in luscious waves, framing her perfect porcelain doll face, and when she smiles I have to stifle a gasp.
She walks right by the housekeeper as though the older woman’s not there and then looks over my shoulder before looking at me.
“But where’s Kaden?” she asks.
“He couldn’t make it,” I reply.
“And you came anyway? All alone?” She squints at me and almost frowns but it’s gone in the next second, seamlessly replaced by a radiant smile.
“Happy birthday,” I say and even manage a bright smile as I say it.
“Thank you.” She giggles.
She takes both my hands then pulls me into a perfumed hug before kissing both my cheeks.
“Come in, I must introduce you to everyone. They are all dying to meet Kaden’s new girlfriend. But you must promise to come find me if you get lonely.”
I nod and smile and tell myself that she’s honestly trying to be nice, she’s just… different from my friends.
She leads me by the hand out into the garden and it’s even more spectacular than I imagined.
A string quartet play familiar music that I can’t quite recognize and beneath a wide decorative marquee, there are tables and chairs and the biggest buffet table I’ve ever seen, loaded with literal mountains of fresh fruit, desserts, salad, and roast meat.
Melinda’s gardens are huge. I’ve only seen them once before, but it was at night. During the day the roses and multitudes of other colorful flowers create a stunning effect and the grounds themselves are lush and green.
It is picture perfect.
Actually, I have never seen a picture this perfect.
“Lucy!” Melinda squeals and pulls me towards a small circle of men and women about our age. I recognize a few of them from other parties.
“You must meet Kaden’s new girlfriend.”
I’m not new. It’s been a couple of years now.
And I am also more than just a girlfriend!
But I don’t say that, I just smile as she introduces me to her friends.
“How did you two meet?” a girl named Karla asks.
But before I can speak Melinda gasps and slaps a hand to her chest as though she might swoon. “It’s a wonderful story. Claire was a underprivileged programmer when she met our Kaden. Right away they knew that despite their differences in station, they were meant to be.”
I grit my teeth but still manage a smile.
“It was like a fairy tale,” I say and hope nobody grasps my sarcastic tone.
This goes on for about an hour.
Perfect Melinda leads me from circle to circle, telling my rags to riches story over and over.
I tell myself she’s trying to make me feel welcome but every time I hear her version of the story, I feel more and more excluded.
It’s like she’s introducing me as merely an honorary member of their exclusive club, which I guess I am. I could never fit in here. These people have grown up with a lot of money – I could never pretend to understand their problems.
I’m about to extricate myself and plead for a bathroom break when we join a small circle of three older women and a man about my age.
He’s well-dressed, but his unshaven chin and slightly mussed hair separates him from the rest.
Melinda introduces me, and immediately slips into my tale of woe and good fortune. By this point I’m not even really listening any more, just smiling politely.
Maybe I should get a little hat so I can dance while she plays her music.
The younger man suddenly snickers but covers it quickly with a cough before excusing himself.
Was he laughing at me?
Is that what I am here?
A joke that everyone’s sharing, only I don’t get it?
One of the older women, the one with the big hat and slim-line black-and-white dress, leans closer to Melinda and says, “I hope you don’t mind me bringing my nephew, Damon. He spends time in our society so rarely these days.” She lowers her voice to almost a whisper. “He’s an artist. His father had great dreams of the boy taking over the family business. The one consolation is that my poor brother-in-law has passed. He’d be so disappointed.”
I excuse myself from the conversation and even manage to do it without glaring at the older woman.
Melinda makes me promise, in an almost obnoxiously loud voice, to come find her if I have no one to talk to, and to my credit I even manage to kiss her cheek and wish her happy birthday again before I almost run to the bathroom.
Behind the closed door I run my hands under the cool water and just breathe, staring into my own eyes in the mirror.
Damn this place.