Evvie at Sixteen (9 page)

“They're nice young men,” Clark said. “I hope you'll spend some time with them.”

“If it's all right with Aunt Grace,” Evvie said.

“It will be,” Clark declared. “She'll be happy to know you're spending time with appropriate young men.”

“As opposed to inappropriate ones?” Evvie asked sharply. No wonder Clark drove Nicky crazy.

Clark nodded. “She mentioned that lunch you had with the Steinmetz boy,” he said. “Are you planning to see more of him?”

“Probably,” Evvie said. “If he asks. I won't pursue it, if he doesn't.”

“Then perhaps he won't,” Clark said. “And Grace will have nothing to worry about.”

“Perhaps,” Evvie said. “Clark, where's the bathroom?”

“Down the hall,” he replied.

Evvie thanked him and walked in the direction he'd indicated. She noticed Vivienne and Brad standing together in the living room, much closer than they had been when she'd met them.

“The family has no money,” Brad was whispering.

“She's Grace Winslow's niece, and there's money there,” Vivienne whispered back.

“You don't know her father,” Brad said. “He's a nobody, an upstart. There's no breeding there.”

“Breeding will just have to be sacrificed,” Vivienne said. “It's what Clark wants.”

Evvie resisted the temptation to stand there any longer. She was used to being whispered about, it came with the territory of being Nicky's daughter. She had no objections to spending the summer as the center of crises people chose to create. But she really did have to go to the bathroom.

Once she got there, she closed the door. With one hand she turned on the cold water and splashed some on her face. Then she looked up at the medicine cabinet mirror. Staring back at her was just good old Evvie Sebastian. Pretty enough, smart enough, nice enough. Not as pretty as Claire, though, or as smart as Sybil, or as nice as Thea. Just good old Evvie Sebastian.

It was beyond her what all the fuss was about.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

“It's a pleasure to see you again,” Schyler Hughes said to Aunt Grace. “My parents send their regards, and best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

“The Bradfords always produced nice boys,” Aunt Grace replied. “Where are you going to school these days?”

“Mayfield Academy,” Schyler said.

“Mayfield,” Aunt Grace said. “My brothers went there. Fine school.” She even smiled.

Evvie couldn't get over it. Where was the sharp-tongued nastiness she'd grown accustomed to? Where was the brutal cross-examination? Why wasn't she demanding to know Schyler's intentions?

“Have you been on campus recently?” Schyler asked. Aunt Grace shook her head. “There've been a lot of changes in the past few years, or so my father tells me. We have a new science building, and the gymnasium was expanded right before I started school there.”

“But you're still not coeducational,” Aunt Grace said.

“I'm afraid not,” Schyler replied. “Although there's been a big push for it.”

“Boys and girls should go to separate schools,” Aunt Grace proclaimed. “Isn't that true, Evvie.”

At least she sounded like Aunt Grace again. “I go to a coed school,” Evvie said. “They're fine with me.”

Aunt Grace huffed. “That's your father speaking,” she said. “Margaret always attended the best girls' schools. The same ones I went to. Her mother may have attended different ones, but her mother wasn't from Boston. Nice enough girl, but a New Yorker. Good family though. Breeding on both sides there. What do you plan to do with my grandniece, Schyler?”

“I thought we might go into town for dinner,” Schyler replied. “Go to a movie afterward.”

“No movies,” Aunt Grace said. “Movies take too long. I don't want Evvie to be out so late.”

“No movie, then,” Schyler said. “Just dinner. Can you recommended any restaurants in Eastgate?”

“I always eat in,” Aunt Grace declared. “Why do you think I have servants?”

Schyler, Evvie was pleased to see, looked dumbfounded. “I doubt he's given it much thought, Aunt Grace,” she said. “Why you have servants, I mean.”

“I suppose not,” Aunt Grace said. “Very well. Dinner out, and then you bring her right home. I expect Evvie back here by eight, and not a minute after.”

“Thank you, Miss Winslow,” Schyler said. “Come, Evvie.”

“See you later, Aunt Grace,” Evvie said as she walked out of the room with Schyler.

Evvie spotted Mrs. Baker at the foot of the stairs. “Schyler and I are having dinner out,” she told her. “So don't worry about making anything for me.”

“Very good, Miss Evvie,” Mrs. Baker replied. “Have a good evening, Mr. Schyler.” She was positively beaming.

“Thank you, Mrs. Baker,” Schyler said. “The same to you.”

Evvie shook her head. Things seemed to go a lot more easily in that house if you were part Bradford, even if your mother was a nobody from Raleigh.

“I've only met your aunt Grace a few times here and in Boston. But I know how fond of her Cousin Clark is,” Schyler said, once they started driving into town.

“He doesn't have to live with her,” Evvie said. “No, that's not fair. My mother lived with her, and she loves her.”

“My father's mother is a bit like her,” Schyler said. “Every inch the lady. I used to long for a more average grandmother when I was a kid. You know, the kind that bakes pies and hugs you all the time. Do you have a grandmother like that?”

“No grandparents at all,” Evvie said. “Just parents and sisters.”

“Oh,” Schyler said. “I have lots of family. Parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. And Scotty, too, of course.”

“That must be nice,” Evvie said, although the more she'd been hearing about grandparents, the less she minded not having any.

“You get more presents at Christmas,” Schyler said. “I haven't had much of a chance to explore Eastgate. Do you know any good restaurants?”

“I eat in,” Evvie said. “Why do you think I am a servant?”

Schyler laughed. “I don't know which one is worse,” he said. “Being an unpaid companion, or a nonpaying guest. I feel we're imposing on Clark, but of course he's much too polite to say so.”

“I think he's glad you're there,” Evvie said. “Clark misses having a family of his own. I know how much he enjoys spending time with mine.”

“That's different,” Schyler said. “That's because he was crazy in love with your mother. Still is, from what my mother says.”

“Clark isn't the crazy-in-love type,” Evvie said. She found she was uncomfortable with the discussion and decided to change it. “Are you looking forward to going to Dartmouth?” she asked.

“No,” Schyler said. “But that's where Father expects me to go. And it isn't worth it to argue about it.”

“Where would you rather go?” Evvie asked.

“Someplace different,” Schyler said. “Someplace where the halls don't echo with Bradford and Hughes tradition. Oklahoma State maybe, or the University of Hawaii. I find it oppressive sometimes, the family sense of history. Does it ever bother you?”

“My parents create their own history,” Evvie said, which was both the truth and a euphemism worthy of her father. “My father's a self-made man. Everything he has, he's created for himself.” Of course, right then, he didn't have anything, but that would change. At least, so Evvie hoped.

“I envy that,” Schyler said. “Do you know where you'll be going to college?”

“No idea,” Evvie said. “I have a couple of years left to worry about it.”

“Any idea what you want to be?” he asked.

Evvie shook her head. “All my best fantasies require talent,” she replied. “To be an opera star, or a famous ballerina. I can sing a little, and I can dance a little, and that's about it. So I'll end up doing something ordinary.”

“There's nothing ordinary about you,” Schyler said. “I'm glad you're here this summer. Clark's a great guy, and I like hanging out with Scotty, but this summer promised to be pretty boring until I met you.”

“It still may be boring,” Evvie said. “I have to spend a lot of time keeping Aunt Grace company. That's what I'm here for, after all. Not to have a good time.”

“I'm sure Miss Winslow would understand if we went out occasionally,” Schyler said. “We could see each other every day. I could come visit with Clark and see you then. Or Clark could keep Miss Winslow company while you and I went out. We could work something out.”

Evvie didn't know how much of that Schyler meant, and how much was his father speaking, but she found she didn't care. Anything socially acceptable that got her out of sight of Aunt Grace was fine with her.

“There's a parking lot down this block,” Schyler declared as they drove into town. “Why don't we park there and walk until we find a restaurant we like?”

“All right,” Evvie said. Schyler maneuvered the car into a parking space, and they got out. “It's a nice evening,” she said. “I love the ocean breeze.”

“You don't have one where you live?” Schyler asked.

“We're inland this time,” Evvie said. “Right in the center of Pennsylvania.”

“Why did your parents pick there to live?” Schyler asked.

“I don't know,” Evvie replied. “They had their reasons, I'm sure.”

“At least it's different,” Schyler said. “Eastgate is a pretty town, but it's the same as all the other towns I've spent summers in.”

“It's not Oklahoma,” Evvie said. “Or Hawaii.”

“Or Egypt,” Schyler said. “Or India. Or Budapest. My father travels all over the world on business. I guess that's his reward for having endured a proper New England boyhood.”

“It's good to know there's a payoff,” Evvie said.

“You're right,” Schyler said. “You know, I like you.”

Evvie laughed.

“No, I mean that,” Schyler said. “I'm not talking about how pretty you are, or how charming. I mean I like you. I like your mind.”

Evvie wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't say anything. That was a trick her mother had taught her.

“This is going to be a very good summer,” Schyler said. “What kind of food do you like to eat?”

“Anything,” Evvie replied.

“My favorite,” Schyler said. “I think I see a restaurant a block or so down. Oh, dammit.”

“What?” Evvie asked. If Schyler was going to ask her if she could break a twenty, their relationship was doomed.

“I left my jacket in the car,” Schyler said. “These places blast you with air-conditioning. Do you mind if I run back and get it?”

“Not at all,” Evvie said, relieved that money wasn't the problem. “I'll wait here.”

“Fine,” he said. “I'll be back in a second.”

Evvie noticed she was only three doors away from the Steinmetz bookstore, so she walked over and peeked in. She spotted Sam immediately, and he in turn spotted her, smiled, and walked to the door.

“Come in,” he said. “I'm glad you're here.”

“I'm not really,” Evvie replied. “I'm waiting for someone.”

“That's all right,” Sam said. “I wanted you to meet my grandparents. Someone can meet them as well.”

“I'd better stand out here,” Evvie said.

“I'll join you, then,” Sam said. “How have things been?”

“All right,” Evvie said. “How are things with you?”

“Not so hot,” Sam replied. “My grandfather hasn't been feeling well. He's been doctor-hopping all week. That's why I haven't called. That, and because your aunt and her household terrify me.”

“With cause,” Evvie said. “But that's no reason not to call. You could use a foreign accent, and then they wouldn't know it was you.”

“I'll try Lithuanian when I work up my nerve,” Sam said. “How's Aunt Grace treating you? Any flack because you were five minutes late?”

“I think she's forgiven me,” Evvie said. “I've been reading her one of the mysteries you supplied. We both think the no-good second wife did it.”

“I hope for your sake, then, that she did,” Sam said. “Are you sure you can't come in and meet my folks?”

“Sure,” Evvie said.

“And I guess you're busy this evening,” he said.

Evvie nodded.

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Sam asked. “We're not religious, but my grandmother likes to make a big dinner on Friday night, anyway. My grandfather says it's atavistic, but the cooking is good and the atmosphere would certainly be different from Aunt Grace's.”

“I don't know,” Evvie said. “I don't know how Aunt Grace would feel about it.”

“I thought you didn't care,” Sam said.

“I thought I didn't care, either,” Evvie said. “But maybe I do.”

“I don't believe this,” Sam said. “In three days you've turned into the Stepford Niece? What are they doing, mainlining white bread into you in your sleep? Forcing you to recite the WASP code of conduct each morning when you salute the flag?”

“You're overreacting,” Evvie said. “I just said I didn't know how Aunt Grace would feel about my having dinner with your family. And I don't. And I need to know before I can give you an answer. It's not so easy.”

“And what if she doesn't like the idea?” Sam asked. “What if she says ‘those Steinmetzes are no good. They're probably Communists, and they're Jewish. No self-respecting Winslow girl would be caught dead breaking bread with them.' What then?”

“I'm not a Winslow,” Evvie said. “I'm a Sebastian.”

“This summer you're a Winslow,” Sam declared. “Just like this summer I'm a Steinmetz.”

“I don't swap identities quite that easily,” Evvie said angrily. “I don't put one on with my winter clothes and change into another in the summer.”