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95: Preparations
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2021-03-19 14:48:38“Mr. James!”
“Andrew James!”
A flurry of jackets and fluttering paper greeted him as he and Alexander descended the courthouse steps. Andrew flinched at a bright camera flash, frowning as white spots blinded parts of his vision. The press. Just what he needed.
Alexander clapped an arm around his shoulders. “I warned you,” he said softly.
“Just get me out of it.”
“Mr. James, is it true your wife was killed after meeting with you?” a reporter demanded, shoving in close with a large cluster of others.
“Were you arguing about the divorce?”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alexander cut in, steering Andrew toward the street and a line of awaiting cabs, “these questions are of no consequence. Mrs. James died tragically yesterday afternoon. Mr. James has just dropped his divorce petition to take care of his wife’s remains and final estate matters.”
“Your court documents state Mrs. James has been residing in St. Louis since sometime ove
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Evelyn recognized the perfunctory knock as Andrew’s before the door opened and he slipped into their bedroom. He hadn’t made it home in time to have lunch with her as he’d hoped. Instead, after taking care of his other errands— which, for some bizarre reason she had yet to hear, included Justin—they’d barely had time to get to the children’s school at the dismissal hour to pick them up. Between Sarah’s mathematics homework—Andrew’s parenting responsibility—and Peter’s reading assignment—Evelyn’s childcare duty—and the myriad of hysterics and tantrums that seemed to go hand in hand with both children’s learning process, then whining over the dinner options, then arguments about baths, then bedtime rituals, there hadn’t been much time for her and Andrew to talk. Whispered in passing, he had mentioned he thought to talk to the children tonight about Charlotte’s death, but she began to wonder if he wasn’t having second thoughts after how exhausting the evening had been.
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As it had the previous morning and early Monday afternoon when Andrew had brought her home, the shower Wednesday morning took longer than Evelyn ever recalled either of them spending in it previously. In fact, she felt confident in saying it took longer than it did when she ran a bath, then washed, then rinsed with clean water. She was pleased to have done without the chair entirely, happy to find herself able to stand for the duration despite the drawn out washing process. And the excessive drying process which inevitably took longer than it needed too. When at last Andrew hung their towels over the rack in the warm and humid bathroom, a lazy smile still curling his lips and his half-lidded mutable blue eyes glittering with green, he wiped the steamed-up crystal face of his wristwatch and commented, “See? We’re finished with time to spare before the children get up to get ready for school.” Evelyn took a step back, her index finger raised between them, as he
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World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
“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
World of Tomorrow 138: Sound and Fury
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World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
World of Tomorrow 134: As Luck Would Have It
Wednesday morning in St. Louis dawned dark and gloomy and only marginally better than it had been upon their arrival early afternoon on Monday. When Evelyn emerged from the bedroom into the drawing room where he and the constantly-moving Will waited, Andrew flicked the newspaper he’d been reading down and smiled. They’d all slept poorly—again. They’d all woken late—again—and after their enjoyable brunch yesterday, both men were eager to see what other offerings were available in the East Lounge’s dining area. “Well?” she asked, her red-tinged and particle-irritated eyes roving the drawing room’s lush furnishings, immediately spotting the unmistakable coating of fine black powder and ash. “Are we trapped inside again today? It seems faintly better.” Will snorted. “By comparison to yesterday, being buried in black sand would seem better.” Andrew chuckled, setting aside the St. Louis Star-Times he’d been reading. He rifled through a stack of newspapers o
World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
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
World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
“The Coronado was built, and I believe is now run, by Preston Bradshaw,” Andrew advised more than an hour later as their cab pulled away from the curb at the train depot. “He graduated from Columbia with my brother, Russell. The two were quite good friends as I recall. My father introduced him to Stanford White in New York City where he worked before returning to St. Louis. He’s responsible for the monumental hotels on Lindell Boulevard. The Melbourne and the Coronado at midtown and the theatre district. And opposite, near the Central West end, the Chase and the Forest Park hotels were also his commissions.” “Did you know him?” Evelyn asked, closing her burning eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. “Is that why we’re staying at the Coronado?” She left unspoken the reminder that the Coronado Hotel, in particular the hotel’s famed Caprice Club, was where they’d found Charlotte to serve Andrew’s divorce paperwork after their tip-off from the Princes in Los Angeles.
World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
The following morning Evelyn woke alone. She could tell by the way his belongings were packed that Andrew had already risen. If she was any guess, he was taking advantage of the train’s onboard barber, which meant she had time to bathe and dress without his typical morning enthusiasm for both processes. Selecting a warm dress from her traveling case, she draped her clothing over the empty towel rack in the bathroom and rooted through her toiletries for her toothbrush and toothpowder. When she was done, she hung a fresh towel on the rack nearest the shower beside the still-damp one Andrew had used and stepped under the spray. The warm shower felt delightful and soothed the telltale soreness from her bedroom exertions with her husband the night before. Once she’d washed, she stood with the warm spray draining off of her and for the first time since they’d come, wondered what they were going to do in St. Louis. They had only the name of a diner and a hotel off t
