"On the contrary, little nephew," Gavin replied softly, "I have never seen a more beautiful young woman. Miss Christie," he said, offering his arm.
"Thank you, Mr. Longchamp." Jefferson's mouth dropped open as I slipped my arm through Gavin's and we sauntered down the corridor. Jefferson went running ahead of us to warn Aunt Charlotte we were coming. She stepped out to watch us descend the stairs.
"Oh, how beautiful you two look!" she ex-claimed, her hands pressed together just under her chin. Luther came up behind her to look, too. He finally gave us a wide smile.
"Thank you, Aunt Charlotte," I said. Then we laughed and went into the dining room to eat our feast.
Afterward, after Charlotte, Jefferson, Gavin and I cleaned up the dinner dishes and silverware, we did what Charlotte wanted and adjourned to the formal living room so I could play the piano for them. Charlotte brought in her homemade jelly cakes and Luther poured everyone, even Jefferson, a glass of dandelion wine. Then the four of them, Charlotte and Luther, Gavin and Jefferson, sat on the sofa and chairs to listen to me play.
Luther had lit the candles and oil lamps, but the room still had an ethereal, mystical quality because of the dark shadows in the corners and the tired, old, heavy drapes that drooped like ghosts over the windows.
As I played something first by Mozart and then by Liszt, I felt myself drift from this world. I was carried back by the music as if the notes wove a magic carpet. When I looked up at Gavin dressed in his old clothes and caught sight of my own reflection in the glass panes of a bookcase, I felt as if we had made it possible for the spirits of the Booth ancestors to reappear, if only for a few moments. I thought about the young girl in the portrait in the attic and imagined her smile in my smile, her dazzling eyes so full of life and hope now gazing at Gavin through my eyes. I heard a room full of laughter, glasses tinkling, more music, footsteps in the hallways and someone, a hundred years ago, calling my name from the top of the staircase.
I closed my eyes, my fingers gliding over the keys as if they were ghost fingers. Even the music seemed unfamiliar. I played on and on as if I would never stop. Then I opened my eyes and saw a dark shadow toward the rear of the room move. I gasped. Instantly, my hands lifted from the keys.
"What's wrong?" Charlotte asked. I nodded in the shadow's direction. Everyone turned to look. Charlotte smiled.
"Oh, hello, Homer," she said.
"Come over here, boy," Luther called and pointed to a seat. "Stop slinking all about the house. Sit down and behave."
Slowly Homer emerged from the dark corner and made his way timidly across the room. He was wearing the same clothing he had been wearing when I first set eyes on him. He looked timid and shy, just as Aunt Charlotte had said.
"Homer has to be introduced," Charlotte declared firmly. Luther grunted in agreement.
"Homer, this is Charlotte's niece Christie, her brother Jefferson and Gavin Longchamp. They're our guests for a while, so don't go around peering at them and frightening them, hear?"
Homer nodded, his eyes wide with curiosity.
"Have a jelly cake, Homer," Charlotte said and offered him one. He started to gobble it quickly and then saw the way we were staring at him and slowed down.
"Play some more music," he asked me.
"Say please, Homer," Charlotte instructed. "Al-ways say please when you ask someone to do something for you."
"Please," he added.
I thought for a moment and then played "Camp Town Races." It brought a big, beaming smile to Homer's face. Luther enjoyed it too, and got up to pour everyone, except Jefferson, another glass of dandelion wine. I played a few other light pieces and then stopped to rest. We drank some more dandelion wine. Charlotte took out some old records and put them on a wind-up victrola.
"Madam?" Gavin said offering his hand. I got up and we danced, faking a waltz as best we could. By this time we were both feeling our wine so it didn't matter that we looked silly in our clothes pretending to know how to waltz. Charlotte thought it was wonderful and beamed a smile and clapped her hands. Whenever I looked at Homer, I saw him smiling and laughing, too. Charlotte kept the music going and Gavin spun me around and around.
"What a mad, crazy but wonderful evening this has been," Gavin declared. "Are you happy?"
"Yes, yes, yes," I sang, and he turned me this way and that until I protested I was dizzy and we had to stop. Jefferson had fallen asleep anyway. The full day of work and play and the one glass of dandelion wine had done it.
"I guess we should say good night," I said and then laughed as the room took a quick spin. "Oh dear me," I said with my palm against my pounding heart. "None of us are used to working so hard," I added and laughed.
"Good idea," Gavin said and went to pick up Jefferson to carry him upstairs, but Homer jumped up first.
"Let me do it," he said and scooped Jefferson up as if he were made of air. Gavin's eyes widened.
"Careful with him, Homer," Luther warned. "He ain't a bale of hay."
"Good night, Charlotte," I said, standing in the doorway and posturing like Scarlett O'Hara. "Good night, Luther. Thank you both for a lovely evening."
"We haven't had as much fun in years and years and years. Have we, Luther?" Charlotte asked him.
"No," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on Homer. "Come right down after you bring him to his bed, Homer," Luther ordered.