"No," Madelyn said. "Julia, Nina's right."
"I am?" Nina said, not really believing it.
Madelyn finished: "This is your responsibility."
Chapter Ten
WAY #82: Honor your ancestors.
Families are rich in history. As you seek to make sense of your own life, go back a few generations and learn about the people who went before you. Sift through the years, and you may find answers in their ashes.
—from 101 Ways to Cheat at Solitaire
The little raisin of a woman who summoned Lance fro across the party couldn't have weighed more than hundred pounds, Lance decided, not counting the diamonds. Nina had told him that Ro-Ro's first husband had owned a diamond mine in South Africa, so naturally, she'd started off with a big ring. As Lance studied her tiny hands, he could see how hard it must have been for husbands two through four to keep up. What Lance couldn't surprise whether Ro-Ro was deeply connected to the dead loves of he life and wore their rings to remember them, or if she kept the jewels on her at all times simply because she needed the attention and didn't trust the help.
"You must be Julia's fella," she said, once he had settled beside her.
"Actually, ma'am, it's a little more—" "Don't contradict me, young man." "Yes, ma'am."
She looked him up and down as if she was thinking about buying him at auction. "What is your profession?" she asked. "I'm an actor."
She grunted in a way that left Lance unsure of her meaning. "I was an actress," she said, emphasis on the I, as if to infer that he was a mere impostor.
"Stage or screen?" he asked, trying to sound impressed.
Ro-Ro cut her tiny eyes toward him, insulted. "Stage, of course."
"Of course," Lance hurried to agree. "What were you in?"
Ro-Ro seemed to consider her answer very carefully before saying, "I only lived in New York for a short time before my Wally came for me and I married him. But I would have been great! They no doubt still say what a great loss it was to the theater when I married and gave up what would have been a monumental career."
Lance struggled for a response but was saved when a series of shadows appeared suddenly at his side. He looked up at a line of rayon suits and matching handbags, blue hair and knowing grins, and he could only assume that the Georgias had arrived.
"Rosemary, darling, isn't this a happy day?" the smallest of the women squealed as she leaned down and gave Ro-Ro a weak hug.
"Georgia," Ro-Ro said with a nod, barely acknowledging her subordinate.
"And you must be the young man we've all heard so much about. How do you do? I'm Georgia Abernathy. I'm a great friend of the family."
Lance stood and shook her frail hand. "Lance Collins, ma'am. Nice to meet you."
All the Georgias looked at one another and giggled. Lance guessed that he had just passed their initial test. Georgia Abernathy continued to speak, introducing Georgia Burke and Miss Georgia '54, even though Lance could have easily saved her the trouble. Between Georgia B. and Evelyn Wesley, there was very little doubt which one was the former beauty queen. The former Miss Georgia could have given women half her age a run for their money, whereas Georgia B. had probably never turned many heads, even in her youth.
While Evelyn Wesley had a waiflike presence that denoted her as a woman who had probably never been larger than a size six, Georgia Burke had the large bones and wide hips of a woman who'd been born to work and breed. But what Georgia B. lacked in traditional beauty, she made up for in spirit, Lance could see. When she hugged him and said, "It's so nice to meet you," Lance felt that she genuinely meant it.
"Oh, Rosemary," Miss Georgia said to Ro-Ro, "I hope you
were telling Lance about the benefit tomorrow night." She laid one of her perfectly manicured hands on his arm, "You and Julia simply must come with Rosemary. It's going to be the event of the year."
"Evelyn," Ro-Ro cut in, "to you, they are all the event of the year."
"Well," Miss Georgia carried on, "it certainly is the event of the spring. If you've never seen Sycamore Hills in the spring, it's worth coming just for that. Oh, the dogwoods and the Easter lilies and the . . . well, it's simply gorgeous! I do hope you'll be able to come." She smiled, and Lance guessed that thousands of men before him had probably had a hard time saying no to Evelyn Wesley.
But Ro-Ro didn't let him answer. "I have no tolerance for those ridiculous affairs," she said. "I will not go. No doubt my family will have no interest in going."
"Rosemary, if you hate events like this, why did you buy a table?" Miss Georgia challenged.
"People expect a woman of my standing to contribute, so I contribute."
Georgia A. stepped in. "You can't have an empty table."
Georgia B. agreed. "It would look awkward. I'll talk to the organizers—have them take your table down."
"No," Ro-Ro snapped, then seemed to consider her options. "Although I loathe those functions, I concede they have worth." She looked at Lance as if seeing whether or not he would meet some secret set of standards. Then she straightened her back and
"So, what do we have planned for tomorrow night?" Lance asked when he found Julia, Nina, and Caroline in the kitchen. "Because I was talking to Ro-Ro—"
Caroline cut him off. "I'm sorry about that. I told Steve to keep her busy." She scanned the party for her husband"Steve," she yelled out the window when she saw him. "Isn't there someone you're supposed to be watching?" And in flash, Steve bolted toward Ro-Ro and the Georgias on the far] side of the yard. Caroline turned her attention back to Lance. "Again, I'm sorry about that," she said.
"That's okay. I kind of liked her," Lance said, and Julia] choked on her Diet Coke.
Caroline snickered. "Did you just say you kind of like| Ro-Ro?"
"She's got spunk," Lance said.
"Well, that's one way of putting it," Julia said.
"Kind of like someone else I know."
"Whatever," Julia said, dismissing him.
"Anyway, I was talking with her when the Georgias camel and, well, one thing led to another, and now I think we all have]
folded her hands in her lap, assumed the posture of a qua-n handing down a decree, and said, "My nieces will attend on in my behalf. It's time for them to learn to do their part."
"Ooh!" Miss Georgia squealed. "We are going to have a wonderful time!"
“To go to a party tomorrow night at some place called Sycamore Hills." Lance waited for the blast of steam Julia might let off, but nothing happened.
Julia shrugged. "Oh, one of those? Don't worry, we don't have to go."
"But Ro-Ro bought a table and—"
"Ro-Ro's always buying tables for whatever cause her little group is supporting that week. She never goes. We never go. Trust me, it's nothing."
"Jules, you have to go, and you have to take me!" Nina cried. "I have it on good authority that Sycamore Hills just spent a hundred grand on curtains for the ballroom. I've got to see them. I want to feel them. Please! Can you imagine the business I could drum up in that place? Those people are all gazillionaires, and I bet none of them have hired a decorator since Nixon resigned!"
"What's the cause?" Caroline asked Lance.
"It is a benefit for the Junior Symphony," he told her.
"Great!" Nina exclaimed. "Underprivileged cellists. I can get behind that."
Caroline spoke softly near her sister's ear. "Jules, no one at Sycamore Hills is going to talk to the press, if that's what you're worried about. Not even the staff. Those people are old-school. The CIA can learn secret-keeping tips from the Sycamore Hills crowd, believe me."
"C'mon Jules," Nina said, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "You can go to a big, flashy, expensive party and help out your best friend, or you could stay home. Alone. With Lance."
Julia threw back her shoulders and said, "I support the symphony."
"Cassie, what do you say?" Caroline prompted, but even Julia didn't know how to respond to the Georgias' present.
"Thank you?" Cassie tried, but one look at the child's face said that an antique porcelain doll with an accompanying semiprecious tiara hadn't been on Cassie's wish list.
"The tiara will fit you, too, dear," Miss Georgia said, removing it from the doll's head and placing it on Cassie's. "Oh," Miss Georgia sighed. "There she is . . . our Miss Cassie."
"Here, sweetie," Caroline said, grabbing the fragile doll from Cassie's grasp, no doubt already calculating how many pieces it would shatter into with even a short drop onto the hard floor. "That was very nice, ladies. Very ..." Caroline struggled for words, "generous."
The Georgias looked at one another, proud of themselves. Ro-Ro scowled in the corner, her card and five-dollar bill having been sufficiently outdone.
"This is the first time I've been to your home, Caroline," Ro-Ro said, her voice bouncing off the tile floor and echoing beneath the cathedral ceiling, just what we need, Julia mused, Ro-Ro in stereo. "Exactly how large is it?" Her gaze scanned the formal living room, settling on the second-story balcony.
Caroline's voice was shaky as she answered: "A little over five thousand seven hundred."
"It's too large," Ro-Ro snapped quickly. "My apartment is one thousand square feet. That's a nice size. That's the size of home you should live in."
"Rosemary," Madelyn was quick to defend her baby girl. "Caroline has two small children. She and Steve need a large house."
"Nonsense. This house is too large. You should sell it, but of course, there aren't many people foolish enough to buy it. Pity you didn't ask me. I could have saved you a lot of time and expense."
Instead of responding, Caroline bolted toward the kitchen. "It's time for cake!"
Undaunted, Ro-Ro carried on. "When Uncle Gregory and I lived in Lisbon, we had a house that was nearly ten thousand square feet."
"But that's twice as big as this house!" Madelyn exclaimed. "You didn't think that was excessive?"
"That was Portugal," Ro-Ro bit back. "Everyone who's anyone has a large home in Portugal. In Tulsa, I have a one-thousand-square-foot apartment." She didn't say that therefore, everyone who's anyone in Tulsa has a one thousand-square-foot apartment. That part was implied.
"Uncle Sherman had a home in Costa Rica," Ro-Ro went on. "You girls don't remember Uncle Sherman, of course," Ro-Ro said. Julia thought, That would be hard, considering he died in 1922. "He had a gold mine there. He always said t Heaven would look like Costa Rica. I guess he'll never know’
They all stared at one another, so Ro-Ro added, "U Sherman was a terrible man."
"You've led a fascinating life, Aunt Rosemary," Julia said and fought the urge to add, Now shut up about it.
"Yes, I have. It's a shame I'll be dead soon and will longer be able to share my experiences."
They all nodded in agreement, not sure whether she was fishing for the "Oh, you're still a young woman, Aunt Rosemary" speech or the "Oh, you're the only bright spot in our lives, Aunt Rosemary" speech. Whatever the case, the James family had learned years before that the safest thing to do was nod.