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116: Halloween
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2021-04-19 14:53:25“Sarah,” Evelyn said, in as firm of tone as she could muster, “while I’m exceedingly happy you’re pleased with your costume, it’ll be far too cold later this evening at the Fair. You must wear a jacket.”
“Mother, please. Please don’t make me. No one will be able to see it! Please!”
Evelyn watched the tears gathering in the girl’s eyes and knew she wouldn’t be able to stay firm if they began to fall. “No one will see it if you’re too cold to leave the car either, Sarah. I’ll hold it for you while—.”
“Darling? Sarah?” Andrew stopped stock still in the doorway of the great room, quickly taking in the situation and recognizing his wife’s waffling. “What’s the difficulty here?”
Rising, Evelyn let her breath out slowly. “It’s too cold to wear the costume without a jacket—.”
“No it’s not!” Sarah shouted. “She’s just saying that because she’s mean!”
Immediately, Andrew sprang into action. Releasing the startled Peter’s hand, he strode past Eve
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“Stop, Peter!” Sarah exclaimed, whirling to face behind her. She shot her brother an angry glare. “Peter, for pity’s sake, don’t throw dirt clods at your sister,” Andrew called over his shoulder, shifting his swaddled, sleeping son from his right shoulder to his left as they walked the long, tree-lined drive that led to the James’ estate, perched with its back on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gulls rode the ocean updrafts in the afternoon sun above the glistening water, occasionally diving when something of interest caught their eye. On the opposite side of the tree-lined drive, his wife’s tiny orchard of glossy-leaved oranges in full bloom left a sweet scent drifting over the drive on the warm, salty breeze off the sea. Not far away, Evelyn's gated garden was growing lush with upright stalks of corn, twined in the loving arms of pole beans with the wide leaves of squash spreading in a carpet at their feet along the ground in one row. In another, her tomatoes were already d
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The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
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