Chapter 5

            Three and a half months later . . .

            It was spring. The flowers were in bloom and the birds chirped happily at the estate. Joanna had finished her three core courses at the New York School of Design and she was now taking fashion illustration and fashion fabric classes. In between work and school, she had been creating a ball gown for the Masquerade Charity Ball the Hudson Family was hosting next weekend at the estate. But, Selena had told her to forget it a few days ago because Christopher had bought her a designer gown he wanted to see her in. Selena hadn’t seen the gown Joanna had made for her.

            Joanna looked at the light pink flowing gown on the statue figurine. She imagined herself in it and going to the ball. What she wanted was Trevor to notice her and dance with her all night long.

            There was a tapping at the door.

            Joanna knew who it was. She was the only one who came to her quarters at this hour. “Come in, Courtney,” she said as she laid in bed with a text book in her hands.

            Courtney entered wearing a short-sleeved blue pajama top and matching shorts. “Hey.”

            “Hey,” Joanna greeted.

            Courtney closed the door and plopped down on Joanna’s bed. “You know how you’ve been pining over Trevor Hudson since I’ve known you.”

            “No,” she said defensively. “I don’t pine for anyone. I just physically admire a man who knows how to dress and carry himself.”

            “You also admire his dreamy brown eyes and his sexy curly hair and his nice ass and his silver tongue and -”

            “What’s your point, Courtney,” Joanna asked impatiently.

            “I got an idea. Since the ball is next Saturday is a masquerade ball, why not wear the gown Mrs. Hudson doesn’t want and put on a mask and go.”

            “What are you psychic?” Joanna asked with surprise. “I was actually thinking about that.”

            “Really? Well, that’s a sign. If we were both thinking the same thing, then it’s a sign you should do it.”

            “I’ll get fired on the spot if show up to that thing,” Joanna said like Courtney was crazy to even suggest something in such a serious way.

            “No, you won’t. You’ll be wearing a mask over your eyes. Even if you weren’t, no one would recognize you if you actually put on some make-up and let your hair down - and wear clothes that don’t hang on you like an old dish rag. I don’t know how you get away with wearing jeans and a T-shirt to fashion school,” Courtney said with bewilderment.

            “I appreciate your assessment on my personal choices,” Joanna said, offended.

            “I’m sorry, but I have begged you to let me give you a make-over for two months – concerning your hair and face that is.”

            “Maybe I’ll let you one day,” Joanna said nonchalantly as she waved her hand in the air.

            Courtney blew out. “Okay, but you shouldn’t wait too long. That Ava Bartho-whatever has come over for dinner six times during the past three months. He might be getting serious about her.”

“Even if he is I can’t do anything about that – even if I wanted to.”

“Sure,” she said flatly like she didn’t believe her.

“Courtney,” Joanna began with slight sternness. “A man like Trevor Hudson, who is rich and handsome, is not going to toss away a debutante slash model slash heiress for the dull upstairs maid.”

Courtney turned her nose up at the statement. “You never know unless you try.” She continued to chatter about the ball and how romantic it would be if Trevor and Joanna locked eyes and he fell in love with her at first sight.

            Joanna scoffed on the outside, but she kept her wish of it coming true to herself. She didn’t want to encourage Courtney’s wild imagination.

            After twenty minutes of Courtney’s chatter, she finally left, leaving Joanna to cut off the light and fall asleep.

****

            Joanna dusted the desk in the study. She dropped the feather duster on the carpet. When she reached down to pick it up the bones in her back and legs cracked. “Oh,” she moaned as she stood up straight. She walked slowly to the mirror and looked in it. No longer was her face smooth as a baby’s bottom. Her hair was more white than blonde and her eyes were no longer blue, but a dull gray. Joanna was now sixty-five. She had stayed too long – wasted her life all the while everyone moved on - and out of her life. Joanna walked over to the fireplace mantle and surveyed the pictures of the people she once knew.

William and Winifred had died years ago. Courtney had married and left the estate thirty years ago. She had three children and seven grandchildren. Selena and Christopher had moved to the south of France, leaving Chris Jr. to run the business. Beverly had won a Pulitzer for investigation journalism twenty years ago and then married a hunk half her age. Bruce had married the lawyer, socialite Catherine Van Dyke and they had two children. And her beloved Trevor had married Ava Bartholomew. They had three children and all of them worked at The Hudson Group under their eldest cousin.

Trevor and Bruce walked into the room. Over the years, Bruce had ceased working out, turning his bulging muscle into sagging fat. He still had a thick head of hair but it was gray, not brown. He had also grown a beard and mustache. Trevor’s brown curls had grayed over time, too. Plus, he had grown a mustache, which made him look more distinguished than over the hill.

“I’m sorry about Ava leaving you, truly,” Bruce said with light sympathy.

“Don’t be. I’m not. I can’t believe I’m going to admit this after all these years, but you were right. She was totally wrong for me. If I had to sit through one more dinner with her chatting about clothes and gossiping about other people I was going to stick a fork in my eye.”

They both chuckled – deep and loud.

Joanna had missed her chance years ago. She wasn’t going to let it slip by again. “I love you,” she said loudly.

Bruce and Trevor turned to look at her.

“I love you, Mr. Hud- I mean Trevor,” she said desperately.

Trevor chuckled as he approached her.

Bruce rolled his eyes with disgust.

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “That’s nice, Jackie.”

“Joanna,” she corrected.

“Whatever,” he said as he waved his hand in the air. “Once upon a time you were somewhat cute.”

“Somewhat?” she scoffed with offense.

“But, you’re too old for me now . . . and lifeless. You were too lifeless for me when you were young. Now, I have to go. I’ve given up my position at Hudson so I can be free to happily live out the rest of my days on a yacht with twenty-year old beauties.” Trevor removed his hand from her shoulder and raised his arms in the air. “Ladies!” he shouted and clapped his hands together.

Two smiling women with long blonde hair entered the study. They were wearing red string bikinis.

Bruce looked them up and down, nodding his head with approval.

Joanna’s mouth dropped open at the scantily clothed hussies as Trevor glided to them.

“Farewell, adieu, bon voyage,” Trevor said as the ladies hooked their arms around his. They turned to leave.

“Wait!” Joanna shouted after them.

Trevor kept going without looking back.

“Fare-thee-well, brother. Fare-thee-well,” Bruce saluted.

“No! Wait!” she shouted again as tears stung her eyes and a hot flash came on.

Bruce turned to her. “Get back to work, Josephine,” he ordered sternly and turned to leave her.

“Joanna!” she cried as Bruce continued to walk away. “My name is Joanna!”

She shot up in bed hot and sweaty. “My name is Joanna, damn it!” she screamed. She looked around at her room. She was so hot that she felt like she had to strip to cool off. Joanna swallowed hard as she fought to catch her breath.

What a shit dream as Beverly would say.

Joanna felt the dryness of her mouth as she looked at the sparkling pink gown across the room. Was it worth doing such a crazy, irresponsible thing over a bad dream? She could lose her job if anyone recognized her. Then again, they couldn’t even remember her name. How were they going to recognize her in a ball gown and a mask?

No, I can’t. Can I?

****

            It was early morning when someone rang Ava Bartholomew’s bell. She had no idea who would visit this early. She hoped it wasn’t Trevor. She hadn’t brushed her hair or had on anything alluring. She peeped out the hole and her mouth dropped open. Ava unlocked the door and swung it open.

            “Mommy,” she said with wide eyes.

            “Hello, light of my life,” her mother, Whitney Bartholomew, oozed. A white shawl hung around her to protect her bare shoulders from the morning coolness. She wore a black top that exposed her arms but covered her neck and chest. Her pants were whiter than white and tight, showing off her great figure. Her mother’s brown hair didn’t show a hint of age despite her being fifty-five.

            They air kissed on both cheeks. 

            Ava stepped aside to let her mother enter the penthouse.  “I thought you weren’t coming back to New York for another four days.” Her mother lived in the Caribbean most months out of the year except for the spring and summer – New York socialite season.

            “I came a few days early, darling,” she said and sat down on the white couch with purple throw pillows. “I was afraid I might miss some delicious news. Why are you still in your pajamas?”

            Ava looked down at her blue night shirt. She closed the door and locked it back. “Well, it is five a.m.”

            “Is it that early?” her mother asked with astonishment. “I just had the butler book me the first flight out of the Caymans. Now, come sit by Mommy, and tell her what progress you have made with that devastatingly handsome Trevor James Hudson.”

            Ava smiled as she hopped and skipped and jumped to her mother. She planted herself a few inches away from her on the couch. “Things seem to be going very well. He invited me to family dinner again at the estate last week.”

            “Oooo, nice,” her mother said in a girlish tone. “What else?”

            “He calls me about once week and he comes by about twice a week.”

            “Well, that’s nice darling, but it’s obvious you two aren’t exclusive – yet. But, don’t worry, I’m here now and once I’m through giving you a few tips and setting the stage Trevor Hudson will be proposing to you by September.”

            “Oh, Mommy, that would be wonderful,” Ava said happily. “I adore him. He’s so nice and he doesn’t see me as just an arm piece.”

            “Yes, yes, that’s nice, precious,” her mother said.  “Now when are you going to see him next?”

            “Um, at the Masquerade Charity Ball,” Ava answered. “The Hudsons are hosting it in the ballroom at their estate. The proceeds are going to cancer research.”

            “Uh huh, and are you keeping up with your charity work?”

            “Mommy, I quit the community center in January,” Ava said with disgust. “Those unruly brats don’t want to learn anything. I’d be shocked if any of them make it out of school much less out of the ghetto. You know the director and I had caught six of them in the supply room. They were trashing the place looking for money or something they could sell for money. There was a lock on it. One of the little heathens had smuggled in bolt cutters to cut it off. They hit the room during the Christmas party. When the director and I tried to talk to the children’s parents about it, they all cussed us out like we did something wrong. That’s when I decided not to return. It was too much trouble – not worth the headache. And it wasn’t worth one of those little future inmates to mug me in six months.”

            “How old are the kids there?”

            “Between the ages of nine and twelve. The ones we caught ransacking the supply room were between the ages of ten and twelve,” she answered with disgust.

            Her mother made tisking noises with her tongue. “That just goes to show you that no matter how many people volunteer or how much money is raised for those places - without proper home training and good examples for children to watch, they will be a reflection of their parents, their environment, or worse.”

            Ava nodded. “The director talked himself blue in the face to get me to stay on. Then, he tried to lay a guilt trip on me saying that if I give up, then I’ll be part of the problem. The only way to effect change in those young people’s lives was to stick with it and do what their parents can’t.”

            “Oh, good grief,” her mother sighed. “You were a volunteer with a degree in French from Vassar not a psychology degree from Yale.”

            “I know right? But, I told him I would come back that next week for the New Year’s party. I just wanted to get out of his office. He had kept there for an hour trying to talk me into staying. So when the day came for me to go back, I didn’t.  He started blowing up my phone so I just blocked his number. He even left me several voicemails. I deleted them without listening to them. I’m not going to let him brainwash me into thinking that I can help those kids. Their parents should be helping them by not defending their disgusting and uncivilized behavior and punishing them when they do misbehave.”

            “I totally agree,” her mother said simply.

            “I just tell the who’s who in our circle that I still volunteer there to keep up appearances,” Ava admitted. It was every socialites and debutantes duty to show humility and thoughtfulness to the less fortunate. It reminded heiresses and wealthy women how fortunate they were and it helped those who were less fortunate.

            “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a social fib as long as the fib doesn’t go on for too long or you’ve covered your tracks. It’s April and you stopped volunteering there in late December. Your tracks are exposed, dear. What if some other young lady starts volunteering there because she heard you were? Then she shows up and you’re not there? When she asks the director about you, I have no doubt that he will give her an ear full. Not only could that get back to every socialite in our circle but to Trevor Hudson.”

            “Oh no,” Ava whispered. “You’re right.”

            “You need to find another cause to volunteer for, Ava. Something where you really can make a difference.”

            “But, working with children is the best cause. Everyone looks good upon a person who works with children. Problem is after working with those smart aleck attitude having hellions I can’t stand kids anymore.”

            “That feeling will fade in time. In the meantime, how about volunteering at a soup kitchen?”

            “Oh, Mommy, that sounds hard and I know nothing about preparing food.”

            “True. How about being a volunteer at a hospital?”

            “Sick people are depressing – and mean. Daddy is even moody with me nowadays.”  Ava’s father had just turned eighty and his personality had turned with his age. He had become downright insufferable.

            “Oh, sweetheart,” her mother soothed as she put her hand in Ava’s hair. “Your father was always a mean bastard. You’re just realizing it now because you’re older and have had more experience with people.”

            Her mother’s comments had caught her off guard. That wasn’t what she expected her mother to say. “Now, I know you two are divorced but –”

            “And there is a reason for that,” her mother said.  “Now, I know you don’t like me speaking ill of your father, but surely you don’t mind me speaking the truth. He was charming when he was courting me and a few years after you were born. But, the prince turned into a frog when you were five and he’s been like that ever since.”

            Ava kept quiet. She didn’t want the conversation to turn into a discussion about her elderly father. There was a time he was the best man on earth no matter what her mother had said. She exhaled.

            “We need to find a worthy cause for you to contribute some time to and I need to look at your ball gown to make sure it is so dazzling that Trevor won’t be able to leave your side at the ball.”