As I’d predicted, the opulence of the Winterses’ family mansion was beyond anything I’d ever seen outside of a movie. Straddling an entire city block, it was nearly four times the size of Amelia’s sizable house. It had been kept its original white, and the large, columned front porch wrapped around the front and the side of the house. As this was the only mansion that had stayed in the family since it was built, it also served as the storehouse of the family’s antiques and art. Tours for the public were held on Wednesdays in the spring and summer, and it was listed as a must-visit destination for tourists in guidebooks for the city. Now inside, I could see why. Several rooms on the ground floor had been kept in museum-quality condition, each looking like a window into the past. As we were led through the house to the back garden, I wondered what it had been like for Amelia and her family to grow up here. Nothing about the house, as far as I could see, suggested that anyone actually lived here. I saw no photographs, no televisions, nothing that gave away the real life of its inhabitants.
The garden was very crowded when we walked out. Several servers were walking around with champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Despite being early November, the weather was sweltering, and large ice sculptures had been set up around the yard with fans behind them to blow cool air into the crowds. A small jazz band was playing on a raised dais, the music quiet enough that people could talk over it. A tiny dance floor had been set up in front of the band, but so far it seemed that most people were too caught up in chatting with each other to use it. Almost all of the attendees wore typical Southern garden-party clothing, the men in either seersucker or white suits, the women universally in dresses. I was incredibly fortunate that Amelia had chosen my dress, as I would likely have worn slacks if I’d come on my own. I clutched Amelia’s arm nervously, and she glanced over at me, the panic in her eyes mirroring what I felt.
Several people waved at Amelia when they spotted her, but the first to reach us was a pretty, younger woman, who clutched Amelia’s arms like she was drowning. “Thank God you’re here,” she said, smiling with gritted teeth. “I was afraid you weren’t coming, and Billy cancelled on me at the last minute. If I hear one more person ask about my boyfriend, I’ll scream.” She was a cute, petite blonde, much slighter and smaller than Amelia. I couldn’t see any resemblance between them, but I assumed immediately that this was her sister.
Before Amelia could reply, an older, elegant woman, walking rapidly in our direction, called out, “Amelia! So glad you finally made an appearance.” She held out her arms, and I moved aside so they could embrace. They did, somewhat awkwardly. She then held Amelia out at arm’s length, looking at her critically. “You look terribly, honey. Have you been sleeping? You work too hard.”
“You look lovely, too, Mother,” Amelia said, then actually rolled her eyes.
Her mother was stunning. Her silver hair was cut in a chic style, and diamond studs sparkled on her ears. She wore a gorgeous, burgundy afternoon dress, which reminded me of the kind of dresses Amelia wore at work. The light lines around her dark-blue eyes only added to her striking beauty.
She turned to me, eyes piercing me with curiosity. “And who is this?”
“This is Dr. Clothilde Deveraux. We work together.”
“Do you, now?” her mother asked. Her expression was hard to read, but it seemed somewhat dismissive. She held out her hand. “So pleased to meet you. And a doctor, no less.” Here she gave Amelia what could be called a smile and raised her eyebrows before looking back at me. “What on earth do you do working for my daughter? Are there so many medical emergencies over there?”
I heard the younger woman next to us snort with laughter, and Amelia threw her a withering look.
“I’m not that kind of doctor,” I said, shaking her hand. “I’m an art historian.”
“Well, that makes more sense,” she said. “So glad you girls could make it. I’ll go tell your father you’re here, dear.” She bustled away, and I felt both Amelia and her sister relax again.
Amelia turned to me. “So that was my mother.”
“And I’m her sister,” the younger woman said, taking my hand. “Emma.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma.”
Emma turned to Amelia. “Why the hell are you so late? I’ve been here alone for hours.”
“I can’t help it if you’re always early, Emma,” Amelia said. “Anyway, we’re not that late.”
“Well, since Billy couldn’t make it today, I’ve been here all alone for what seems like an eternity.”
“Why didn’t you hang out with Bobby?”
Emma snorted. “He’s busy with the kids. As usual.”
“Are Michael and Dean here?”
“Yeah.” Emma looked around. “Bobby and all the kids are playing boules on the lawn, and Dean and Ingrid are talking to Dad, I think.”
Amelia looked over at me, “Those are my brothers, if you didn’t catch that. Ingrid’s my sister-in-law.”
I nodded.
Emma turned her bright eyes to me. “Ready to meet the rest of the family?”
Before I could reply, Emma took my arm, and we all started walking through the crowds. “Now don’t be nervous. Only Mother and Ingrid are intimidating. Mother’s not very nice to anyone’s significant other, so don’t take it personally. She and Ingrid are two of a kind, but they hate each other, so Ingrid will probably be nice to you.”
“Why?” I asked, confused.
“Since Mother hates you already.”
“She does not!” Amelia said, flushing red with embarrassment.
Emma just rolled her eyes and then leaned closer to me. “Anyway, I’m so happy you’re here. Ever since Amelia told me about you, I’ve been just dying with curiosity. I almost never get to meet Amelia’s…friends.”
“That’s enough of that,” Amelia said, eyes wide with alarm.
Emma laughed. “Anyway, she’s never brought a girlfriend to Mom and Dad’s before. That must mean you’re something special. We’re going to be good friends.”
I looked over at Amelia to reassure her. She looked relieved but still somewhat on edge.
We soon reached a group of people, and Emma released me, which allowed Amelia to grab my hand. She clutched it nervously, and I squeezed back, surprised at her nervousness, but, considering what Emma had just told me, this situation was new for her too.
“There’s my pumpkin!” the elder of four men said. He detached a little girl from his shoulders, set her down on the ground, and walked over to Amelia, pulling her into a deep hug. He pulled back and, like Amelia’s mother, held her out at arm’s length, examining her up and down. “You look so tired, honey. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Dad,” she said. “I just got back from a trip to New York, so I’m a little worn out.”
Her dad smiled widely. “Nothing a little R&R won’t fix, then. And some champagne.” He motioned toward a waiter, who brought over a tray of champagne flutes, and we all took a glass.
“Dad, I want you to meet Dr. Clothilde Deveraux. We work together.”
He turned his gaze to me, and I met a pair of mischievous green eyes. I liked him immediately and knew I could count on this man and Emma as my allies for the day. He was tall and very solid, with wavy gray hair and a full, gray beard. Knowing that he must be in his sixties at least, I was surprised at how fit and healthy he looked. He didn’t resemble Amelia in almost any way except perhaps for his smile, which was equally disarming. We shook hands.
“Ted Winters,” he said. “So glad you could join us today.”
“Thank you for having me, Mr. Winters.” I blushed a little under his curious gaze.
“Call me Ted. Now let me introduce you to the rest of these dunces.” He put an arm around my shoulders and steered me closer to the group nearby, all of whom were looking at me with open curiosity.
“Hey, everyone! This is Clothilde Deveraux, Amelia’s guest. Clothilde, the one with all the munchkins crawling on him is my middle son, Robert,” Ted said.
The younger man detached a couple of the children and stood up, holding out his hand. “It’s Bobby,” he said. We shook.
Ted continued. “This charming couple is my oldest, Dean, and his wife Ingrid.” We all shook hands, and I could immediately see that Emma was right about Ingrid and Mrs. Winters’s similarity.
“And this is my youngest son Michael and his girlfriend Jenna.” The three of us shook hands, and then I was able to reattach myself to Amelia, clutching her hand nervously.
All of us stood there awkwardly for a moment before Emma broke the tension. “Say, Bobby. Where’s Jackie?”
Bobby’s face fell. “We broke up. She said that the kids were too much for her after all.”
“Oh no!” Emma said, walking over to him. They took a couple of steps apart from the rest of the group, whispering together.
Amelia moved her mouth close to my ear and whispered, “Bobby’s wife died a couple of years ago. He has three kids, so he’s been having trouble getting serious girlfriends. It’s too bad. We all liked Jackie, his last girlfriend, a lot.”
I smiled, grateful for the context. There were, however, six children in the nearby vicinity. “Which ones are his?” I asked her.
“All of the girls.” Amelia pointed at an older girl and two younger twins. The boys were darker and younger than the older girl, but looked older than the twins. “The boys are Dean and Ingrid’s kids. Don’t worry about any of the kids’ names this time around. They’ll probably ignore you at first.” She winked at me, and I felt grateful for the excuse to concentrate on the adults.
“So Dean’s your oldest brother?” I asked, trying to clarify the situation.
“Yes. It goes Dean, Bobby, Michael, then me, and finally Emma. We were all born almost exactly three years apart. My mother wanted to make birthdays easier so she could just do one big party every year. And I think she said she read somewhere that three years is the best gap between ages for siblings. She always plans everything to the minute. All of us except Emma have birthdays in the same week in January. Emma was, as they say, an accident, though of course she’s Dad’s favorite. She’s five years younger than I am.”
“It must have been hard to arrange that with the rest of you,” I said, thinking about the logistics of planning the birth of four children so exactly.
Amelia nodded. “My mother gets my dad to do whatever she wants.”
Ingrid and Dean walked over to us, and I could feel Amelia tensing up. Dean was a younger version of his father except for one feature—his eyes. Instead of the cheerful, mischievous green I’d seen on the older man, Dean’s were the cold blue of his mother. His expression was blank and unfriendly, as was his wife’s.
“We’re so glad to meet one of Amelia’s friends after all this time,” Ingrid said, her voice surprisingly low.
“It’s been so long,” Dean said shortly and without warmth.
“So what exactly do you do together?” Ingrid asked.
I had to swallow hard to stop myself from spewing champagne out of my nose, but I managed to cover up my laughter with a cough. Amelia patted me on the back. I glanced up at Amelia in desperation. If I opened my mouth, I’d start laughing. Her eyes were likewise full of merriment, but I saw her gain control of herself.
“Amelia is my researcher, primarily. She also helps with home sales, shipping, things of that nature.”
I cleared my throat, my amusement contained. “And what do you do?” I asked. I looked at both of them.
“I’m in the real-estate and oil business, like my father,” Dean said.
“I’m in charity work,” Ingrid said, looking, if possible, colder than before.
Amelia’s brother Bobby suddenly appeared next to me and grabbed my arm. “Would y’all excuse us for a second?” he asked the others. “I need Clothilde here for something.”
Confused, I excused myself and followed Bobby behind a nearby hedgerow. The hedge divided the lawn and garden from the patio. Several children were playing boules on the lawn, and others were racing around playing tag.
Bobby smiled at me. “It looked like Ingrid might bite your head off there for a second. Thought I’d step in and rescue you.”
I laughed. “Thanks. I guess I said something to upset her.”
“What did you say?”
“I just asked what she did for a living.”
He grinned. “A woman like her thinks it’s beneath a woman of her position to work,” he explained. “On the other hand, she resents it that some women do work and probably envies them. I think she’s afraid that women who work look down on her.”
I was mortified. “Shit. Guess I really put my foot in it.”
“Don’t worry.” Bobby patted my arm. “She hates everybody. You’re not a part of this family until Ingrid Winters hates you, so you’ve taken the first step.”
I chuckled, and we both turned and looked out at the lawn and the kids. I watched him spot his daughters playing on the swing set, and his eyes warmed at the sight of them. We both watched them for a while, and I took the opportunity to glance over at him a couple of times. He and Amelia bore a striking resemblance except for their eyes and hair. He had green eyes, and his hair was wavy and dark blond—probably like their father’s had been when he was young. He was tall and muscular, and his cheerful disposition was instantly winning. All-in-all, I found him incredibly charming and, in a past life, would have likely wanted to get to know him personally. The thought of this personable man becoming a part of my life in a different way pleased me.
Michael and Jenna appeared around the corner of the hedge and strolled over to us. Michael was apparently the odd one out, as he didn’t look like either of his parents or his other siblings. Lean and tall with nearly black, curly hair, he dressed in clothes more casual and worn-looking than the rest of his family. Seeing that I was attended to, Bobby excused himself to go play with his daughters on the swing set.
“Hello again,” Michael said. “I’m the resident black sheep.”
Jenna swatted his arm. “You are not!”
“Am too.” He turned to me. “Both of my brothers and Amelia inherited the ability to make money. I’m only good at spending it.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “Anyway, we’re just so happy you could come. Amelia never brings anyone to these things, and you look like a regular person.” She blushed when she realized how this sounded. “I’m sorry—”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I pride myself on looking normal. That’s how I get away with so much.”
She was relieved at my joke, lame as it was.
“I’m a musician,” Michael said, “and so is Jenna. We both play downtown. I’m drums, she’s bass.”
“Oh yeah? My best friend is in a band, too. Mostly bluegrass and folk.”
“What’s her name?” Jenna asked.
“Meghan Powers,” I said.
They both looked startled and then laughed. “Really? How funny!” Jenna said.
“I just played a gig with her last week. I’ve known Meghan forever,” Michael added.
“We’ve never met, but I’ve heard about her from Michael and a lot of our musician friends. She’s really well known in our scene,” Jenna added.
I found it very easy to talk to Michael and Jenna, and the three of us more or less hid from the rest of the party for the next half hour, chatting about the New Orleans music scene. Because I’d been living in Paris for the last four years, I didn’t know it as well as I used to, but I managed to hold up my end of the conversation pretty well. Michael was extremely flirtatious, but in a way that was clearly nonthreatening, both to me and to his girlfriend. I found him likeable and approachable in a way that some members of his family were not, though Bobby and Emma seemed nice enough. Michael lived simply and cheaply downtown, and most of his references were to people and places I knew or was familiar with. Jenna grew up in Metairie, a suburb, and was, like me, unaccustomed to this kind of wealth.
We were so caught up in our conversation that I hardly noticed when the band stopped playing. It wasn’t until Bobby and the children quickly walked by us that we followed them back to the other side of the yard. I spotted Amelia and walked over to her, and she almost sagged in relief.
“I couldn’t find you,” she whispered. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it painfully.
“That’s ’cause I was hiding,” I said, and winked.
Amelia’s parents were up on the bandstand in front of a microphone. Ted spoke first.
“Welcome, welcome everyone! Thank you so much for coming. The weather is cooperating with us, unlike last year, so for once we’ll be able to stay out here this afternoon.” There were several chuckles at this. “This week marks our fortieth anniversary,” here there was applause, “and we’re thrilled that all of you could join us for our Ruby Wedding. Some of you out there—like Dan, and Georgia, and a few of you other old farts—were there at our original wedding forty years ago, and you’ve been with us ever since. I count myself lucky to have such long friendships in my life and such a gorgeous woman to share them with.” There was more applause after this.
Mrs. Winters took the microphone from him and bowed slightly, as if it the applause was for her alone. “Thank you, thank you, all of you. As I look back on the last forty years, I feel so blessed to have met and known so many of you for so long. These years have brought me five wonderful children and a lifetime of happiness. I wouldn’t do a thing differently.”
“Except have me. She hates it when something is unexpected,” Emma whispered next to me, and I threw her an amused look.
Mrs. Winters continued. “We will have a light buffet dinner in about an hour, but until then, please help yourselves to snacks and drinks. We’ll try to catch all of you for a chat.” She put the microphone back in its stand, and Ted helped her step down off the platform.
Amelia turned to me. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“You basically disappeared!” Emma chimed in. “Where on earth did you hide?”
I laughed. “Michael, Bobby, Jenna, and I were over on the lawn chatting.”
“Damn it! Why didn’t I think of that?” Emma said, scowling.
“You got caught in Aunt Trudie’s tentacles, Emma,” Amelia said.
Emma scowled further. “She’s always sucking me into her vortex at every family event. Half the time I think she’s trying to set me up with her son. Like, hello, he’s my cousin!”
We all laughed.
Emma’s eyes suddenly widened at something behind me, and, turning, I saw a giant moose of a man walk outside from the house. He was easily close to seven feet tall, solid in the way of a construction worker or lumberjack. His hair and beard were a fiery red, and he was dressed in a light linen suit that looked as if it might burst off him at any moment. Emma squealed and ran at him, launching herself into his arms and wrapping her legs around his middle in an embrace. He kissed her and swung her around a couple of times before setting her down on the ground. The discrepancy between their sizes was amusing, but the man did his best to help Emma, almost crouching down as she spoke with him. They chatted for a couple of seconds, and then they were kissing again. This went on for quite a while, and several groups of people glanced over at them, obviously embarrassed by the public display of affection.
“I take it that’s the boyfriend, Billy?” I asked.
Amelia nodded, clearly amused. “They’re always like that. They’ve been together for so long now, you would think the honeymoon phase would fizzle out, but I guess not. I just know one of these days she’s going to tell us she’s pregnant. Or getting married. Probably in that order.”
We watched them a moment longer before Amelia caught my eye, her eyes dancing with mischief. “What do you say we take advantage of the next hour and disappear for a bit? I could show you my childhood bedroom.”
“Let’s see it.”
*
The second floor of the house was clearly less formal than the ground floor, and I guessed that the family spent most of their time up here in these rooms, keeping the ground floor authentic to its original time period for tours. Without asking, I could guess that Mrs. Winters had influenced that decision, but up here was clearly family space. We passed several open doors, one a living room, one a cozy library, and then a couple of bedrooms before we reached Amelia’s old room. It had obviously been kept as it was when she lived here, as a couple of band posters from a decade ago were thumbtacked to the walls next to some cheap art prints. Amelia sat down on the bed, watching me as I slowly took in the room. I picked up some of the framed photographs, amused at the young Amelia, then saw one of her and another, unknown girl. Amelia’s arm was around her shoulders. They both looked to be about high-school age. I held it up and Amelia laughed.
“My first girlfriend,” she explained. “Erin. We wanted to go to the prom together, but we weren’t allowed to at our school. My mother was shocked that I even thought of taking a girl to prom.”
“When did you come out?”
“I was seventeen. Once it got out, the school wanted to expel me—it’s Catholic—but my father’s money made that impossible.”
I set the photo down and walked over to her bookcase. She had a wide assortment of novels—mostly romances, I was amused to note—mixed in with books of artwork. I slid out a large collection of Albrecht Dürer and held it up for her to see. “I love Dürer. I went to a show of his etchings in Berlin a couple of years ago.”
“I actually own a Dürer now,” she said, looking a little shamefaced about it, but also proud. “I’ll show it to you the next time you stay over.”
I put the book back and then walked over to her, sitting next to her on the bed.
“Have you had a lot of girls in here?” I was only half-joking. I didn’t know a lot about her past girlfriends, as she’d been cagey about talking about them since the moment we met.
She laughed. “Only Erin. That’s actually how my parents found out I was a lesbian. They caught us together.”
I winced. “Ouch. Talk about embarrassing.”
“One of the scariest moments of my life. I actually thought my dad would kill her. Or me. For about a week, my mother looked like she was going to have kittens.” She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “It’s funny now, but Christ, at the time…”
I kissed her, softly. “You don’t have to worry about being caught now. Your parents are busy.”
Amelia kissed me back and then pushed me gently onto my back.
*
When we emerged from the house an hour later, the food was already out. Almost everyone was seated at one of the tables set up on the patio, so of course they noticed when we rejoined the party. I realized then that we should have taken a moment longer upstairs to compose ourselves a bit, as—if Amelia’s wild hair was any indication—it was clear what we’d been doing. I saw, to my amusement, that Amelia’s cheeks were slightly rosy with embarrassment, and when she noticed me looking at her, she squeezed my hand. We quickly walked over to the buffet table, and I realized that I was completely famished. Trying to give the crowd a moment to forget about us, I spent a long time carefully piling my plate as high as it would go, and Amelia laughed out loud when she saw my huge mountain of food.
“Come sit over here!” Emma called when we turned around. She’d saved two seats at her table for us. Besides her boyfriend, Michael and Jenna were also seated at her table, as were Bobby and his three girls. We sat down between Emma and the oldest of the nieces.
“You guys are insatiable,” Emma said, leaning close to whisper to us.
Amelia swatted her playfully on the arm. “Oh, hush. I’ve seen the two of you at enough of these things to know you do exactly the same every chance you get. You’re just sore you didn’t think of it yourself.”
Michael, affecting the haughty expression of authority, said, “Jenna and I would never think of desecrating such a sacred event.”
Amelia laughed. “What about last Christmas?”
Michael and Jenna blushed scarlet and we all chuckled.
“What happened at Christmas?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Amelia said. “Let’s just say a certain older brother, a certain sister-in-law, and a certain mother were too indignant to eat dinner at the table that evening.”
Everyone laughed again, and I suddenly realized I felt natural, almost completely like myself with her family. All of the dread from the last week, between worrying about Amelia and worrying about this party, suddenly seemed to have disappeared. While I was still on the fence about a couple members of her family—as they clearly were with me—I found Amelia’s dad and everyone at this table warm, welcoming, and charming. I didn’t know what I’d expected of her family, but it certainly wasn’t this group of friendly people.