“Well,” I said.
“Well,” he echoed.
Unless we were sniping at each other, it seemed we had nothing to say. “I guess I’d better circulate with these,” I said finally, with a nod to my tray.
“And I should get back to the bar.” He turned and walked hastily away.
I moved toward where Lauren and Gerald were standing. Although they stood close, they neither spoke nor even looked at each other. Gerald helped himself to several crab cakes, cheese puffs, and scallop-and-bacon spears from my tray, stacking them up in an absurd little pyramid on his cocktail napkin. Lauren eyed everything hungrily but politely refused.
Linnet was standing by herself, sipping champagne and watching the show unfold with a distant smile. I walked over to her. “Something to eat?”
She hesitated. “I really shouldn’t. I’m trying to lose weight.”
“Oh, but you can’t diet on New Year’s Eve. That’s what tomorrow is for—lots of healthy resolutions and fresh beginnings. Besides, Aunt Winnie is a wonderful cook.”
Linnet considered the tray again. “Well, I guess you’re right. I suppose it is silly to start a dieting regimen today.” She chose a crab cake and delicately popped it between her crimson-stained lips.
“You know,” she continued, “when I was younger, I never had to worry about my weight. I was always the same size. But over the last couple of years, it’s gotten harder and harder to keep the extra pounds off. I guess that’s part of getting old.” She reached for a cheese puff.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I responded. “I think it’s hard for everyone, at any age.”
She ate another cheese puff and nodded toward where Jackie stood talking to Lauren and Gerald. “Jackie doesn’t seem to have any trouble,” she said, with a trace of envy in her voice. “She’s the same size as she was when we were in school.” I remembered Aunt Winnie’s observation that Jackie kept in shape by exercising; Linnet, however, attributed it to a different reason. With a faint sniff, she said, “Of course, given what her circumstances have been, I suppose it’s not that surprising. After all, it’s hard to overindulge when you’re barely able to make ends meet.”
The spitefulness of the remark took me by surprise and I struggled to keep my face neutral. Dear God. Why didn’t she just stand on the nearest chair and shout out to the room, “If it weren’t for me, Jackie Tanner would be living in a van down by the river”? Linnet kept talking. “Although it’s hard to believe now, we used to look so much alike that people often mistook us for sisters.”
“Where did you two go to school?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Radcliffe. Jackie and I took drama together. We had this silly plan that after graduation we were going to move to Hollywood, where, of course, we’d instantly be discovered.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I guess Marty, my late husband, happened. He was very good-looking back then and, of course, his family was as rich as Croesus. It made for a hard combination to resist. He was quite the ladies’ man.” She shook her head at the memory. “Actually, I think Jackie even dated him a few times, but once he and I met, well, that was that. It was a whirlwind romance. He proposed only three weeks after our first date. I remember Jackie was so upset, because that ruined our plans.” She paused to eat another crab cake. “I doubt I would have gotten very far, anyway. My only talent was an ability to cry on command. Jackie, on the other hand, has always had a real talent for mimicry—more of a gift, really, than a talent. She was amazing.” Linnet’s voice held a tinge of regret; she immediately shook it away. “But, as I said, it was a silly idea. Neither of us had what you’d call the stuff of legends.”
“What did Jackie end up doing?” I shifted the tray.
“Oh, she ended up taking a teaching job somewhere in Ohio. And Marty and I moved to Connecticut. Greenwich,” she added after a brief pause. She was quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in her memories. “It’s funny how things turn out,” she said slowly, more to herself than to me. “I thought I would have such a perfect life with Marty. He came from a wonderful family. He was rich and handsome. But he was also the biggest lush I ever had the misfortune to meet.”
“Oh,” I said, taken aback at this blunt admission. “I’m sorry. That must have been very hard.”
“It was. But I wasn’t the first woman to marry an alcoholic. At least we had ample money so I never had to worry about losing the house. And, of course, I had my charity work to keep me busy. Thankfully, we weren’t able to have children. At the time, it was quite distressing, but in hindsight I think it was a blessing.”
I was thankful that Linnet’s constant nibbling had emptied my tray, because it gave me a reason to excuse myself from the conversation. I had no idea what to say to her, not that it mattered. She struck me as the sort of person who talked a great deal but seldom required a response. She’d had a difficult marriage, but she didn’t invite much sympathy. Maybe it was her lack of loyalty to people. By her own admission, she had tossed Jackie aside when they were younger, and from what she had told me about her husband, it sounded like once she realized he had a problem, she had pushed him aside, too. As I made my way across the room, I caught Peter staring at me again and I had a sudden immature urge to stick my tongue out at him. I restrained myself and continued to the kitchen.
On my way I saw Lauren. She stood with her back to me, talking on her cell phone. As I neared, I heard her say, “Okay, I’d better go. Happy New Year. I love you, baby.”
With a soft click, she shut the phone and dropped it into her little purse. Seeing me, she pasted a bright smile on her face. “The party is going wonderfully, don’t you think?”
“So far, so good,” I agreed.
With a nod at my empty tray, she said, “Well, don’t let me keep you.” She hurried back to where Gerald stood. Of the many possibilities Lauren’s conversation did suggest, I was secretly pleased that an affair with Daniel was not one of them. I continued on to the kitchen, my mood vastly improved.
After refilling the tray, I headed back to the dining room. As I passed the rear door that led to the garden, it opened and Joan and Polly walked in from the cold. My face must have shown my surprise because Joan quickly said, “Oh, hello, Elizabeth! My, it is really coming down out there! It’s like a winter wonderland. Polly and I just couldn’t resist—there’s something about snow that brings out the kid in everyone, I guess.”
As directed, I looked out the back window. The snow was indeed coming down heavily, transforming the backyard into a sea of white. I must be getting old, I thought. For unlike Joan and Polly, I had absolutely no desire to go stand in it. I was quite happy to enjoy the view from the comfort of the heated indoors.
Joan hurried back to Henry while Polly stayed with me, although she said nothing. Aunt Winnie laughed loudly at something and Polly said, “Your aunt seems like a lot of fun.”
I looked over to where Aunt Winnie stood talking to Gerald and Lauren. “She is,” I agreed with a smile.
Polly continued, “Sorry about my father’s behavior earlier. He can be … overbearing at times.”
That was one way of describing the man. I could think of several other terms, which while more fitting wouldn’t be appropriate to share with his daughter. I snuck a glance at Polly. She was still staring at her father, her face an unreadable mask. Quite suddenly, an expression of pure hatred crossed her face. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, and the controlled mask was firmly back in place. It happened so fast that I wondered if I had imagined that look.
I felt for her. It must be hard to go through life with a father as obnoxious as Gerald Ramsey. I wondered if she often found herself apologizing for his rude behavior.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” I said finally. “Aunt Winnie didn’t seem upset.”