is such an honor, Myna,” I declared as I shook her hand. A huge silver ring on her middle finger jabbed my palm painfully. “I absolutely love your work.”
There was no mistaking a guffaw from Tansy, and I flushed in response. Standing erect, Myna gave me a tight smile. Behind the wire-rimmed glasses, her pale eyes glittered. “Thank you, Helen,” she said shortly. Her voice was clipped and nasal, definitely not Southern. “Always a pleasure to meet a fan,” she added. “Especially around here.” She glanced around at the others with something like malice.
As if to diffuse the tension, Noel moved in quickly. With a little bow, he handed Myna a glass of red wine, Linc a beer, and told me that Emmet was bringing mine over himself. Twirling around, Noel pointed a finger at the woman who had silently appeared to stand next to me. “Kit? Pick your poison.”
“Red’s fine,” she responded in a cool voice, then held out a hand to me. “Hello, Helen. I’m Kit Rutherford.”
With her hand in mine, Kit and I took each other’s measure. Because she’d been half hidden in the photos, I wasn’t expecting her to be quite so pretty. What a sight she and Rosalyn must have been together! A head taller than me and slender as a model, Kit had light brown hair, olive-hued skin, and hazel eyes. She was simply but stylishly dressed in a crisp white shirt, designer jeans, and sandals with heels, which struck me as the perfect attire for the cool evenings here. I had the sudden, unwelcome thought that Kit would’ve been a more suitable replacement for Rosalyn, her longtime friend and roommate, than someone like me. How had Emmet missed so obvious a match? Kit greeted me by squeezing my hands and saying it was a pleasure to meet me, and I forced those hurtful thoughts out of my mind.
This time it was Emmet who stepped up to diffuse the awkwardness. He strolled over to me with a white wine seltzer in one hand and his customary martini in the other. I took the wine from him gratefully, hoping no one noticed my hand trembling. Emmet placed an arm around my shoulder as he looked around at his friends, who had ended up in a semicircle around Linc’s chair. They waited expectantly, and I watched them watch my husband. Managing to look both rakish and elegant, Noel leaned against the porch railing with an amused expression on his face and a frosted mug of beer in his hand. Across from him, Tansy held a glass of wine to her full red lips, which were turned up ever so slightly at the corners. Over the rim of the glass, her coal-black eyes were directed at me. Myna’s eyes, on the other hand, darted from one of us to the other, while Kit’s remained remote and unreadable. Only Linc regarded the rest of us with what appeared to be genuine curiosity, oblivious to the tension that had crept into our gathering like the fog from the lake.
Scowling, Emmet looked down at me in sudden irritation. “Damn! I should’ve gotten champagne, sweetheart. Why didn’t you remind me?”
Before I could respond, the others chimed in. Linc hooted derisively and said, “Probably because she knows what a cheapskate you are, my man.”
“Yeah, Emmet,” Noel agreed. “Don’t blame it on Helen.” Turning to me, he added, “The cheap son of a bitch probably planned it this way. He’s the one who went into town for the booze, right? Pretending he was helping you out?”
“Well, he did, but—” I began when Noel stopped me with a shout of laughter.
“I knew it!” he cried, then leaned over to click his mug against Linc’s. While Kit and I were greeting each other, I’d been vaguely aware of a small drama playing out next to us. Myna had protested when Noel brought Linc a beer, and I heard Noel say curtly that the doctor had okayed one a day, if she recalled. Surely she wasn’t implying that he’d give Linc anything harmful, he’d added, but I’d missed Myna’s response.
Emmet turned to me and sighed in exasperation. “Now you see why I didn’t want you to meet my so-called friends, Honeycutt?” The fondness in his voice softened his words, however, and the others laughed good-naturedly. Waving them off, Emmet held his glass high. “Our next get-together, I’ll furnish the finest Moët. For now, we’ll toast with what we have. Helen and I would like to thank each of you for coming over tonight. As you know, she’s been quite anxious to meet everyone.”
On the other side of me, Tansy murmured, “Beware of what you want. You might get it.”
“Let me add a toast to the newlyweds,” Noel interjected in a hearty voice, “from all of us.”
With much clamor and clanking of glass against glass, we toasted old friends and new; Emmet and myself; the new bride (this from Tansy); our upcoming summer together; and at least a dozen other things. After so many refilled wineglasses (without the aid of my usual splash of seltzer), I got rather woozy, but at least the tension had dissipated. Or so I thought. Before another toast could be raised, I spoke up. “Before I get too smashed to remember my manners, please help yourselves to the food.”
“I cannot wait,” Tansy sang out as she waltzed over to the wicker table. “All Emmet’s talked about is what a great cook you are.”
Before I could explain that I hadn’t made anything, Tansy had grabbed a plate and started piling it high. “Hey, Tans,” Noel called out from his perch on the railing. “Don’t forget the rest of us are hungry, too. Fix me a plate while you’re at it.”
“Actually,” I began, “Emmet had to get the food from . . . ah . . . where did you say you got it, honey?”
But my voice was lost in the clamor of Tansy telling Noel to fix his own damn plate; Linc and Emmet laughing at their exchange; Myna announcing that she’d fix Linc’s plate, thank you; and Kit slinking over to the table to inspect everything. I cleared my throat and tried again, but by then Tansy had popped one of the miniature cheese rolls into her mouth, declared it better than anything she’d ever gotten from the caterer here, and said she simply must have the recipe. When I finally made myself heard, Noel threw his head back and laughed.
“So, Tansy, those cheese rolls are better than the caterer’s, huh?” he teased. With a bored expression, Tansy gave Noel the finger, and I let out a giggle, startled by the obscene gesture from such an elegant-looking woman.
Despite being catered rather than homemade, the party tray provided enough distraction to carry us through the cocktail hour. While everyone ate and refilled their glasses, they threw questions at me. Did I love the mountains, or find them claustrophobic? Did I think Moonrise was fabulous, or overwhelming? Were Emmet and I really working this summer, or had we made that up to get away from our jobs? And speaking of my job, what exactly did I do, anyway? So I actually liked to cook, then? Anything having to do with my and Emmet’s relationship was taboo, I noted. No one asked how we met, how long we’d known each other, or any of the usual questions you might ask a newly married couple. Even less was brought up about my personal life. Linc inquired politely whether my son, Adam, would be visiting. Adam was spending some time with his father in Miami, I replied, before heading north for his first year of med school. Johns Hopkins, I added casually, to which everyone responded enthusiastically, as duly impressed as I’d shamelessly hoped they’d be.
Kit Rutherford had contributed little to the conversation the entire evening, except to complain about the remodeling of her house. Since I hadn’t heard about it, I asked what she was having done. Making a face, Tansy cut me off with a dramatic wave of her hand. “Oh, God—don’t get her started on that topic, Helen. We’ll be here all night, and I’m sure you and Emmet are still exhausted from your trip.”
It was the perfect segue to end our get-together, and thankfully the others took the hint and made noises to leave. Despite the subtle tension that had hung around like an unwelcome guest, the evening might’ve come to a fairly pleasant close
