Fading Starlight Part 15

She picked up the wedding gown, which had been a.s.sembled and fitted. She was now deep in the process of the hand beading. She bent and straightened her fingers a few times, trying to get them limbered up for the job ahead, and then she turned on her little television. She liked having noise while she worked.

Today the cla.s.sic movie channel was showing Pillow Talk, with Doris Day and Rock Hudson. Perfect. Beautiful costumes mixed with a little comedy was just what she needed on a day like today. She pulled out her OttLite with magnification so she could see the tiniest detail of her work.

A knock sounded at the door. The only other time this had happened had been over a week ago, and Kendall Joiner had been here. Lauren considered sitting where she was and continuing with her work so that Kendall would get the hint and just keep moving. She finally decided it was best to end this once and for all, so she carefully set the dress aside. She hurried across the small room, letting her anger work her up until she was ready to take a hard stand, leaving Kendall absolutely no doubt that she meant it this time.

She jerked open the door, ready to launch into her refusal. She stopped cold when she saw who was standing there. Frances, her face drawn and unhappy.

"Frances? What brings you here? Do you want to come in?" Lauren gestured inside.

Frances followed her in, looked around, and shook her head. "Well, I . . . this is where you live now?"

"I needed a short-term lease, something I could afford, and a safe neighborhood. This place fits the bill."

Frances frowned. "I'm sorry you didn't get to stay in the cottage. It was nice having a friendly face in the neighborhood."

"Yeah, well, you may be the only one who felt that way."

"You'd be surprised." Frances stared at her for a long moment. "Which brings me to why I'm here. I've come to invite you to have dinner with Miss Montgomery tomorrow night."

"Dinner? Really? The last time I was over there it was for tea, and it didn't end so well."

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry about that."

"Frances, I do appreciate the invitation-please tell Miss Montgomery that I really do-it's just that I'm crazy busy with the theater work right now, and I just don't-"

"Please come. Don't let the past keep you from giving her one more chance to be the person that she can be."

"I really . . ." Lauren did not want to go, but she knew what Rhonda would say. She would say that the people who most need love are sometimes the most reluctant to receive it. She would say not to give up when you believe you've been called to something. She would say to go forth and shine your light. Lauren knew that she should give it one more try, even if it was only to confirm what she knew to be the truth: Miss Montgomery did not want anything to do with her. "Sure. I'd be honored."

Frances nodded. "Good. Tomorrow night at eight."

"I a.s.sume I am supposed to dress appropriately?" She smiled at Frances, remembering the invitation to tea.

"Miss Montgomery does dress for dinner, as you know. She doesn't expect you to wear a full-length vintage gown, but I would suggest your Sunday best. That said, when Willow eats dinner there, she wears jeans and a T-shirt. I think she does it just to prove that she's not going to let someone else tell her what she can and can't do."

"Well, I'll try to find something suitable."

Frances nodded once more and backed out the door. "I'm glad I've gotten the chance to know you." Lauren watched as she held tight to the splintery bannister and made her way down the steps.

thirty.

It's all set, then?" Charlotte attempted to work a few loose strands of her blond hair into her French twist. Her fingers didn't cooperate like they used to. Neither did her hair, which had taken on a wiry texture in addition to the gray color she spent so much time and energy keeping covered up. She shook her head and sighed. Couldn't nature leave at least something in order while time took away everything else?

Frances hurried over to help her. She worked the strands back in and secured them with a pin. "Yes, ma'am. It's all set. Just as you asked."

"And you prepared the gown I asked for? And the scarf?"

"Yes, ma'am. They're just here."

"Right, then. Well, let's get ready, shall we? It's going to be something of a b.u.mpy ride this evening, I fear."

Frances smiled. "I'd say you can count on it." She lifted up the gown and shook it out. "I believe that the final destination will make the turbulence in the middle worth it."

"I hope you're right. I guess we'll know soon enough, won't we?" For the first time in longer than she could remember, Charlotte felt nervous about something she was about to do. Beyond that, a bit deeper, was something that she almost couldn't identify. It felt like . . . hope?

Out of respect for Miss Montgomery, Lauren opted to dress for dinner in a floor-length gown. Since she owned only one such dress, it made the choice simple. It was actually her grandmother's prom dress, one that she had used for her own prom in spite of the fact that it looked nothing like what any of the other girls had worn. The era wasn't that far off from what Miss Montgomery wore on a nightly basis, so this would likely fit in better at her house than it had at the high school gym all those years ago.

The skirt was pink silk topped with black tulle. The top had pink silk around the edges, with tiny crystals every inch or so, but with a black velvet bodice that had two large crystals descending from the sweetheart neckline. Most of the jeweled portions of the dress had been added by her grandmother. She'd always liked bling-at least according to Aunt Nell, who had given the dress to Lauren when she'd visited the summer of her sixteenth year.

Somehow it made her feel safe and protected, wearing this dress. It was as if Aunt Nell were with her. At least she told herself that until she pulled through the neighborhood gate. At that point she began to feel as though a seamstress were applying a beading awl directly to her stomach. There was no reason that Miss Montgomery would have anything nice to say to her tonight. Why, though, would she want her to come to dinner? It seemed everything that could be said had already been said.

Maybe she was planning further action for breach of the neighborhood policies, but Lauren didn't think that would really be a legal issue, and why have dinner for something like that? Tea would be easier. Or no food at all.

Whatever the rant, Lauren vowed to herself that she would take it without making excuses. She and she alone had made the mistake. If Miss Montgomery felt better by telling her off one last time, then so be it.

As she pulled into the driveway, she noticed the extra car parked beside the house. A red Mercedes. Oh no. When Frances had mentioned yesterday that Willow didn't follow the dress code, she'd forgotten to mention that she would be here at this dinner. This bit of knowledge would have changed Lauren's decision to accept the invitation, which was likely the reason Frances had failed to mention it. Taking a tongue-lashing she deserved was hard enough; taking it in front of someone else who deserved it worse . . . well, that was something different altogether. No matter, it was too late now.

Lauren promised herself she would not leave here until she had confronted Willow about that necklace. She would do it privately, but she would let her know that she knew Willow had stolen it.

She stepped from the car and smoothed down her skirt. Now, knowing Willow would be here in her high-priced designer jeans, Lauren felt a little silly at her choice of apparel for the evening. She walked to the front door and rang the bell, holding her breath and wishing with all that was within her that she could turn and run in the opposite direction.

Frances offered a huge smile. She gestured toward Lauren's dress. "You look wonderful. Miss Montgomery will be so pleased." She opened the door a little wider. "Right this way, please. They will be down in just a moment."

Lauren followed her through the hall and into the library, a beautiful room with sky-high ceilings and bookshelves that were packed with books from top to bottom. In the center of the back wall, the focal point, there were rows of matching leather-bound volumes lined up neat as a pin. Toward the edges, and often disguised behind a partial door or beside a couple of artful bookends, there were more recent hardbacks and paperbacks, too. Lauren walked over to see what kind of modern reading Miss Montgomery might undertake.

She was surprised to find a little bit of everything, from romance, to suspense, to legal thriller. There were even a few science fiction books, which Lauren very much doubted Miss Montgomery had ever read. Seeming to read her mind, Frances followed her over. "She's a great reader. Loves all kinds of books. I think that is her way of at least staying partially in touch with the world she has mostly left behind. She can read a book and feel that she has experienced a little of it."

Lauren nodded, understanding the sentiment but thinking how sad it was that Miss Montgomery had spent so many years isolating herself from the world. While she certainly understood wanting to hide away from everyone and everything, especially after Malfunction Gate, she saw before her the danger of letting yourself escape from your problems and not deal with them. Yet another reminder that she was glad she'd made the decision to come here tonight.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. I will go tell them that you have arrived."

"No need for that, on my account, anyway. I heard the doorbell." Miss Montgomery swept into the room, looking as composed and stately as Lauren had ever seen her.

Lauren, however, knew she herself looked considerably less composed. Her mouth had flown wide open and remained that way the second she saw what Miss Montgomery was wearing.

It was the blue brocade gown. Finally she managed to stammer out, "That color is beautiful on you."

Miss Montgomery looked down, smoothed out the skirt with her hands, and looked back up. "I've always been partial to dark blue." She didn't smile, but she didn't frown, either. She simply looked as though things were happening as they were expected to happen.

"I hope you like it." It sounded as though she were asking for a compliment, but really, Lauren spoke the truth. She really hoped that Miss Montgomery liked the dress.

Charlotte Montgomery ignored the comment and walked over to the pitcher of ice water that was sitting on the sideboard, poured some into a crystal goblet, and took a sip. She glanced back down at her dress. "The cut of the gown itself is quite extraordinary. Where did you find such a pattern?"

"I made it."

"Made the pattern?"

"Not a pattern, exactly. I sketched out what I wanted the dress to look like and then draped the idea in muslin. I used that to cut the pieces. Since I'd worked on your other dresses, I knew the general measurements."

"I see." She squinted her eyes and studied Lauren, as if trying to gauge her truthfulness. "Well, you did an adequate job."

"Thank you." Lauren gestured toward her. "Your scarf matches it nicely." Even as she said the words, she thought about how much better the necklace would have looked. How perfect the coloring and style would have worked together. She wondered if Willow would have anything like the same thought. Probably not.

Miss Montgomery, however, lifted a hand to touch the blue-and-green silk wrapped around her neck, but she said nothing. She took another sip of water.

"Well, looky here. Don't you look like a little princess, playing in your dress-up clothes?" Willow sauntered into the room wearing a white V-neck T-shirt and jeans. She offered a hard grin toward Lauren, like a boxer smiling down at his latest TKO. "Where did you find that getup?"

Lauren simply looked at her, debating whether or not to take the bait. Finally, she decided to tell the truth. "It was my grandmother's prom dress."

"I can believe that." Willow circled her, snorting laughter. "Yep, it's an old prom dress all right."

"That's enough of that," Miss Montgomery said. "It's time to go in for dinner."

The table was set in an elegant but simple style. Thick white tablecloth, silver candlesticks, and a single bouquet of flowers in the center of the round table. In spite of the fact that there were only three of them, there were four place settings. There were place cards in silver holders at three of the seats; the fourth held none. Lauren saw her name and took a seat. She was next to Miss Montgomery and directly across from Willow.

"So, ladies, thank you for joining me this evening. I had some things I wanted to discuss with the two of you, and it just seemed it would be expedient to do it all at once, rather than dragging it out over several evenings. I don't have the stamina I used to have."

Lauren glanced across at Willow, wondering what conversation Miss Montgomery could possibly want to have that would involve them both. Willow picked up her goblet and offered a fake simper toward Lauren before taking a sip.

"I know you're wondering what this is all about, so I'll get right to the point." She paused and took a sip of water as Frances entered the room.

Frances set a bowl of steaming clam chowder before each of them, then retreated back through the door. Miss Montgomery waited until she had exited before continuing. "It seems to me that the two of you have each made less-than-subtle attempts to befriend me over the past little while. Willow, you for the last couple of years. Obviously, Lauren, yours was a bit more recent. But in both cases, it caused me to ask what you hoped to gain by doing this. I'd really like to hear your own version of this answer. Willow, I'll start with you."

"For me"-she glared toward Lauren-"you already know the answer. I wanted to make some sort of effort to mend the family divide. I thought it was important that you know that you have not been forgotten and abandoned by all your relations. There are some . . . well, me in particular . . . who have always believed that you were treated unfairly, and in an almost reprehensible manner. You are part of the family. There's no reason why you shouldn't know the children and grandchildren of your half siblings. By today's standards, no one would even blink that your mother was not married to my grandfather. It's not your fault that you were born into such a narrow-minded, judgmental time. As I've always said, I want to do what I can to mend the rift."

Miss Montgomery tilted her head toward her niece. "So, it's purely a relational thing. You really were hoping that in time we could all be one big happy family?"

"Exactly." Willow smiled at her and nodded.

"And not just for you, but you have been hoping that in time I can be reconciled with some of the other members of the family, as well?" She took a sip from her soup spoon as she looked toward Willow for the response.

Willow's smile grew even wider as she bobbed her had. "So much. That has been my dream."

"And yet"-Miss Montgomery raised the spoon to her lips again and waited until she had swallowed before continuing-"you've never managed to bring a single other family member with you on your visits." She took a sip of water. "I've met your friend Janet, that fellow you're living with . . . Jonas, is it? But never one of your brothers or sisters, and most certainly not your father."

Willow shrugged. "They are not as easily convinced as I had hoped. Don't worry, Auntie, I haven't given up on it. A little bit longer and I'm sure they'll start coming around."

"Because of your great efforts." She took another sip of soup and stared hard at Willow for the s.p.a.ce of a few more seconds. "It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your father cut off every bit of your funding a couple of years back and left you with nothing but the remainder of your mostly-used-up trust fund. Right?"

"Auntie, I don't know what you are talking about."

"Of course not. I was clearly misinformed." Miss Montgomery turned her attention to Lauren. "And you. You move in across the street and almost immediately begin planting flowers outside my fence."

"As I've explained, they were going to go to waste. I thought I might as well use them to try to brighten up the neighborhood. I meant absolutely nothing by them, other than that."

"Yes, so you've said." Miss Montgomery stirred her soup. "This gown"-she gestured toward the dress-"is made from fabric you bought with your own money, isn't that true?"

"Yes."

"So this wasn't just about a few extra plants that you didn't want to waste, and this was not a cheap fabric."

"Well, no, it's not. But I did get a nice deal on it."

"What did you hope to accomplish by spending your money in such a manner? That's not to mention the time required to fabricate it. There has to be something you wanted from this."

Lauren felt her cheeks heat. "Nothing. I've always been obsessed with beautiful fabrics and beautiful gowns. It seems that both are getting harder and harder to find, and few people appreciate them when they are found. When I saw that fabric, I just fell in love with it. I'd seen some of your dresses by then, and it just seemed to me that this fabric would work well for you."

"And you were hoping to gain what by it? Entrance into my home? More information for you to share with your reporter friend?" She had leaned back in her chair and was giving Lauren the full weight of her accusing stare.

"I purposely did not give you that dress until the day I was moving out. There was absolutely nothing left that I could gain at that point." Lauren looked her full in the face. She was telling the truth, and there was no reason to back down now.

"What about you, Willow?" Miss Montgomery turned her attention back to her niece. "Do you think she still had something to gain at that point?"

It was obvious from the way the question was stated that she expected the answer to be yes.

"Clearly she did." Willow glared across at Lauren. She took a breath, opened her mouth, but then seemed to think better of whatever it was she was about to say. She closed her mouth and turned toward her aunt expectantly. "I'm sure of it. Aren't you, Auntie?"

"Yes, I do believe you are correct about that." Miss Montgomery reached up, loosened her scarf, then removed it completely from her neck. "How about this? Might this be what she was trying to gain?"

thirty-one.

Charlotte watched the young women's expressions as she pulled the scarf loose. Willow could not contain her glee as she looked accusingly across the table at Lauren, who was looking back and forth between Charlotte and Willow, seemingly waiting for someone to explode. Well, chances were, she wouldn't have to wait long. Charlotte turned toward the door. "Frances?"

Frances appeared immediately. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you ask Mr. Winston to join us now, please?"

"Yes, ma'am." Frances left the room and immediately returned with Neil Winston in tow. She set a bowl of soup in front of him before retreating back to the kitchen.

Neil Winston was quite large. Standing somewhere near six-five or six-six, with broad shoulders and a rounded but not quite heavy physique, he was an intimidating man. He wore a dark gray suit with a red silk tie, and dark-rimmed gla.s.ses. Yes, he was well cast in the role he played. "Good evening, ladies." He smiled around the table before taking his seat.

"Lauren, may I introduce Neil Winston, the neighborhood manager? You've met his parents, George and Edna, I believe?"