“I got here as soon as I could get myself presentable for dinner,” Celestine said. “Or would you rather I wore my day dress and had my hair all messy from my accident?”
“Enough of that,” Portia snapped, and without another word they filed into the dining room.
Across town, Lorelei poured some wine for her son as he set the kitchen table for their dinner. “Think I got the meatloaf right this time, Ma,” he said.
“I’m sure you did a fine job,” Lorelei said, taking her seat as he served her the meat and vegetables. “So how is Celestine?”
“Fine, I guess.” Dylan was glad he didn’t have to look at her as he got his own meal together at the counter.
“You guess? Dylan, she’s your best friend, and you just spent the afternoon together. How is she really?”
“Well, Ma…how do you think?” Dylan sat down and made no further effort at a brave face. “She’s engaged to that swine Troy and would do anything to get out of it, and I’d do anything to help her, you know that, don’t you? But I can’t.”
“You’re my son, of course I know that,” Lorelei said. “I brought you up to care about what women want, whether you really need to or not.”
“I do need to. Especially Celestine.”
“I’m very proud of you, Dylan. But you’re probably right, you can’t. At least not on your own.”
“What do you mean on my own?”
“Just tell me one thing, Dylan, and remember I am your mother and I’ll find out soon enough if you lie to me. Do you love Celestine?”
Dylan sighed and set his silverware down. “Yeah. Desperately. But, I mean, what can we do?”
“True love conquers all,” Lorelei said as she sipped her wine. “Tell me this, Dylan. If you could, just what would you do for Celestine?”
“Take her to Polerma,” Dylan said.
“Polerma!” Lorelei couldn’t resist a laugh. “You are your mother’s son, aren’t you? Yes, I think you’d both love it there. I’d miss you, but I’d love to have you both living your lives together there.
“I’d miss you too, Ma, but I wouldn’t worry about that,” Dylan said. “I mean, what are the chances of me ever being able to take her there? And do you know, she told me this afternoon she would go with me if I could afford it!”
“Did she?” Lorelei had a better poker face than her son did, and he saw nothing in her eyes as she considered her options.
“Yeah,” Dylan said. “And I mean, there must be a way, but I sure can’t think of anything.”
“Let’s see if I can,” Lorelei said. “You know, I always did hope the two of you would get together. But you know what her mother would have thought of that.”
“I’m a little past caring what her mother thinks,” Dylan replied. “No, in fact I’m a long way past that!”
The subject of Dylan and his mother’s conversation was, at that moment, discussing plans with Troy for the wedding. “I am sure Celestine’s school friends will all look lovely in pink,” she opined, looking at Troy but not at her daughter.
“I was really hoping for lavender, myself, to match the trim on my favourite coat,” Troy said. “You do like lavender, don’t you?” At last he looked at Celestine, though her mother did not.
“Well, no,” Celestine said.
“Pink is our family tradition, in any event, so that is settled,” Portia said.
“I really don’t like pink much either, Mother,” Celestine said.
“I really don’t like your attitude much, Celestine,” Portia said. “When it’s your daughter, then you can decide.” She laughed a bit. “Sorry, Troy. I mean she and you can decide.”
“If I let her,” Troy rejoined.
“Correct,” Portia said. “And that reminds me, Celestine, I had better not see a repeat of your behaviour with those sailors this afternoon.”
“From the Reprise?” Troy could have smacked himself silly as soon as the name was out, but neither woman seemed to care how he knew that.
“What behaviour?” Celestine asked.
“You know what behaviour,” Portia replied icily. Turning to Troy, she explained, “She was a common harlot with those men this afternoon, flirting shamelessly with them. Of course you wouldn’t know anything about a woman like that, Troy, but I’ve served enough sailors their dinner in my time to know what’s on their minds. I’m afraid you’ll have your hands full to see that my daughter minds you once she is your responsibility instead of mine.”
“Oh, Portia, you know I’m up to the challenge!” Troy said with the boyish grin that had long ago sealed the deal with her late husband. He turned to Celestine and continued. “It’s not as though any wife of mine’ll be waiting tables anyway. You’ll have our nursery to keep, won’t you?”
It took every ounce of resolve Celestine had to avoid telling Troy what she really thought of him, or at least giving him the dirtiest look she had ever given anyone. Instead she looked ill, and found she did not have to feign it very much. “Mother, I’m not feeling well. May I be excused?”
Portia nodded her consent, although she was annoyed that Celestine had already pushed her chair back without waiting for a reply. She glared at her daughter every step to the doorway, and then turned to Troy. “Were you aware she was unwell?” she asked him.
“A gentleman doesn’t ask questions,” Troy said. “At least not until we’re already married. What do I know about women’s troubles?”
“Oh, it’s not that,” Portia said. “The laundry ladies let me know when she’s got it. Not that I don’t trust you, Troy, but I was a girl her age once, and trust but verify, correct?”
“Always,” Troy said. “Maybe she caught a chill when she fell in the lake?”
“That is why I was hoping she was with you when that happened,” Portia grumbled.
“So I’d have saved her from catching a chill?”
“That too,” Portia said. “But what I really meant was, perhaps if you had been there, you could explain how she fell in the lake and then arrived home in a dress and shoes that obviously hadn’t been wet.”
Celestine, in her seclusion upstairs, couldn’t hear her mother invite Troy to spend the night, nor his hearty acceptance. Neither would have surprised her: Portia knew full well that she and Troy had never really bonded, and she never missed an opportunity to have them spend more time together as if that would change anything. She also wouldn’t have been surprised at the furtive look her mother gave Troy as he made his way up the stairs to the guest suite next to Celestine’s room, or even at the ‘accidental’ mention Portia made that Celestine didn’t have a key to her door.
None of that would have surprised Celestine, for she’d been observing her mother’s machinations all her life. But she heard none of it from the settee by the window, where she admired the sunset over the rooftops of Candover and wondered just what Dylan was up to at that moment. Probably a nice comfortable dinner with his mother, and to think she’d have been welcome there! If only, if only…
Celestine stood up and drew the curtains, and lit the lamp on her bedside table. It cast a wonderful romantic glow over the room, and being mercifully oblivious to Troy’s presence in the next room, she didn’t think to use the skeleton key her mother didn’t know she had in her lingerie drawer. Flush with the much more pleasant thoughts of Dylan, she sat down and pulled her stockings off, and for good measure she also reached up and removed her panties.