In the Shadow of Lakecrest(13)
“Kate and I didn’t want a fuss.”
Marjorie looked at me with mock concern. “Oh, I see. There’s a special delivery on the way?”
“No!” I protested, mortified. “I’m not expecting.”
Marjorie drawled, “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”
“Stop,” Matthew admonished. Weary rather than angry.
“Heavens,” Marjorie said. “I didn’t mean to impugn the honor of your new bride. I’m tainted goods myself.” She smiled at me, with no apparent shame. “Two broken engagements, and Mum’s terrified I’ll end up an old maid.” She squeezed Matthew’s upper arm. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?”
“No,” Matthew said.
Marjorie looked me over, inhaling deeply from her cigarette. She pursed her lips into a perfectly round O and leisurely blew the smoke out.
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Anyone who didn’t know them would think Marjorie was Matthew’s wife from the way she took his hand and led him forward. I tried not to mind, not to dwell on the way Marjorie was looking at Matthew and pulling him close, acting like a protective lover rather than his sister. With their fair hair and striking features, they looked like they belonged together, a perfectly matched set. Yet Marjorie was blunt and brittle, her brother unassuming and polite, and I didn’t understand how they’d turned out so differently. It wasn’t until much later that I realized those differences were only superficial, that deep down they were both Lemonts. Raised to believe they should get what they want.
A taller-than-average woman in a high-necked white lace gown was standing at the edge of the crowd, surveying the party with an air of authority. Here, at last, was the person the party revolved around, the woman who so intrigued and frightened me: Matthew’s mother, Hannah Lemont. She must have been in her late fifties or early sixties, given Matthew’s age, but time hadn’t harshened her face as it had my mother’s; Hannah had the kind of classic, even features that aged well. She watched me with the same guarded expression I’d seen on Matthew when we first met, warning me off rather than inviting me in.
“Mum, this is Kate.”
To my relief, Matthew pulled away from Marjorie and placed one hand protectively against my back. His support shored me up as I nervously stepped forward.
“So nice to meet you,” I said. “You have a lovely home.”
Hannah tipped her head. “Lakecrest has many impressive qualities, but loveliness is not one of them.”
“Then I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Matthew laughed, and Hannah’s eyes flickered back and forth. Her face remained resolutely blank, but I could tell she had been momentarily thrown off balance. I wasn’t sure if I’d offended her.
“I’ll take you on a tour later,” Matthew said. “Once Mum releases me from my hosting duties.”
“From what I hear, you’ve released yourself from all sorts of duties since Kate came to town,” Hannah said tartly. She offered me a tight smile. “How long are you visiting Chicago?”
My mind swirled with all the things I could say—I’m not visiting; Matthew and I are married—and I glanced at Matthew, expecting him to come to my rescue. Instead, he looked oddly unsure of himself as the silence lengthened. It had been Matthew’s idea to surprise his mother, yet here he was, avoiding the very situation he’d brought about. Standing next to Hannah, my once-confident husband looked somehow diminished. Afraid.
Finally, Marjorie interjected herself into the uncomfortable family tableau. “Matts, tell Mum your big news!”
Hannah looked at Matthew, and Matthew looked at me, and I glanced down at my ring, which had rubbed my finger red with all my fiddling. Hannah followed my gaze and instantly understood. With a few twitches of her lips, her expression shifted from calm to furious. But her body remained motionless, and her voice, when she spoke, was measured.
“Congratulations to you both.”
If Matthew had intended to declare his independence by marrying me, the plan had failed. He looked like a miserable schoolboy, awaiting his punishment.
“Clearly, we have much to discuss, but now is not the time, nor is this the place,” Hannah declared. “Matthew, why don’t you show Kate to the buffet?” She gave me what would have looked like a friendly smile to anyone who couldn’t see the coldness in her eyes. “You look as if you enjoy a good meal. Marjorie and her friends are so keen on staying slender, it’s a novelty to see a girl with meat on her bones. If you’ll excuse me . . .”
She gave us a dismissive nod and turned away. I flushed at the insult, feeling more out of place than ever in the expensive dress I’d once adored. Hannah was right. No matter what I wore, I couldn’t help but look dumpy and ugly next to someone like Marjorie.
Matthew grabbed my hand and squeezed. “She’ll come round.”
I wasn’t at all sure, but I forced a grateful smile.
“I’d say we deserve a drink. Mum keeps Lakecrest dry, but Margie’s friends usually sneak in some booze. Ah—Jack might know.”
Jack turned out to be Jack Turnbull, who’d gone to Yale with Matthew. It wasn’t long before Matthew and I were surrounded by a huddle of Jacks and Jocks and Jims, all of whom were identified by whether they went to Harvard or Princeton or Yale but seemed otherwise interchangeable. Almost immediately, Matthew slipped into the kind of man-about-town behavior I’d never seen from him before, slapping his friends on the back and laughing raucously at jokes I didn’t understand.