The Virtuous Woman (14 page)

“Well, that’s not a mortal sin,” Asquith said with a shrug.

“And she drinks like a fish.”

Asquith gave her a surprised look. “She drinks? You mean she actually gets drunk?”

“She came home last night so drunk she couldn’t even stand up. Mom and Dad had to put her into bed. She certainly isn’t ready to meet our friends yet.”

“I certainly hope she doesn’t do that today. Might give my folks a shock. You know how they are about drinking.”

Paige knew indeed, for John’s parents had been sorely disappointed when Prohibition was repealed. They were passionate nondrinkers, rigid in their views.

“Why don’t you go over and talk to Freddie and Lena. They look—” She broke off suddenly and took a deep breath. “There she is—and she’s brought that private detective with her.”

“Private detective! What do you mean?”

“His name is Francis Key. He’s the one who found her out in California. Look at that dress. Isn’t it just
awful?
”

“I take it you didn’t pick it out.”

“No. She did. She has no taste at all.”

“We might just have to help her, Paige.”

“First I’d like to talk to her alone, John. Go mingle for a few minutes.”

Paige approached the pair alone. “We were worried about you, Grace.”

“I had to go find my escort, Francis.”

“Yes, I know Mr. Key.”

“Oh, just call him Francis. He ain’t very tall, but he’s a good guy.”

Paige caught the scent of alcohol and wondered desperately if she could get Grace upstairs before anyone realized she was here. She could make some excuse to the guests that Grace wasn’t feeling well. She had no time, however, for John’s
parents had spotted her. “So this is the newest addition to the Winslow family,” Roger Asquith said.

Paige’s heart sank, but she put on a pleasant smile. “Yes, this is my sister, Grace. Grace, this is Mr. Asquith and this is his wife.”

“Hi, ya.” Grace grinned broadly. She put out her hand, and for a moment Roger Asquith stared at it blankly; then he reached out and Grace pumped his hand energetically.

“How ya doin’, Missus?” Mrs. Asquith had her hand pumped as well, and then Grace said, “I’d like for you to meet the guy that found me. This is Francis. Francis, this is the Asquiths.”

Key had noted the distaste in the faces of the couple and did not offer to shake hands. “Glad to know you,” he said quietly.

“C’mon, Paige. Lemme meet the rest of your friends.”

“Certainly,” Paige said quickly, glad to get her sister away from John’s parents.

Key watched Paige lead her away, and as soon as the pair were gone, John came over and put out his hand to Francis. “I’m John Asquith, Paige’s fiancé. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I’m Francis Key.”

“Paige tells me you’re the one who found her sister.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Are you some sort of policeman?” John asked.

“I once worked for a private investigation agency.”

Key’s quick eyes caught the distaste in John Asquith’s eyes, and he thought,
I suppose private detectives aren’t very welcome in his circle.
The two managed to make some more small talk, and soon John excused himself to talk to some other friends he had spotted.

Francis had not wanted to come to the party, and he tried to stay out of the way as Paige introduced Grace to the guests. It was a painful thing to watch, for most of them made no effort to hide their astonishment at her appearance. He knew Grace missed none of this and in defense had begun to talk
more loudly. He heard her say, “Where’s the booze? I need a drink.”

He did not hear Paige’s reply, but he did not think liquor would be served at one of the Winslows’ parties. Sure enough he was right, for he heard Grace’s voice rise loudly. “Whadd’ya mean there ain’t nothin’ to drink? What kind of a party is this? Not a tea party, I hope.”

Key glanced at the Asquiths, who were standing frozen in place. Roger leaned over and whispered something to his wife, and she nodded firmly. Key felt embarrassed at the whole situation as he observed the shocked faces of these prim and proper guests.

Meanwhile, across the room, Cara and Phil were talking with an old friend of theirs, Dr. Laura Maddox, their family physician. “So that’s Grace,” Laura murmured. “She looks a little like you, Cara.”

“She looks very much like my mother, and I can see something of Phil in her too.”

“How is she doing? This is quite a switch for her.”

“Terrible, Laura,” Phil said, shaking his head. “She’s had no home life at all. She drinks and smokes and chews gum and seems to delight in shocking people—like she’s doing now.”

“I think that’s probably pretty natural. She’s been thrust into the limelight and doesn’t know any other way to behave. It’s a pretty normal reaction, don’t you think?”

Cara glanced over at Roger and Helen whispering together and said, “I’m afraid the Asquiths are shocked.”

“They’re shocked at anything they don’t understand,” Phil said shortly.

“I don’t know them very well,” Laura said, “but they do seem pretty stuffy. I was a little surprised when Paige got engaged to John. He’s a nice enough young man, but he doesn’t even sneeze without asking his parents’ permission.”

The party went on uncomfortably for some time, and finally the inevitable explosion came. “What kind of a dead
party is this?” came Grace’s voice above the others. “Come on, Francis. Let’s get outta here.”

Key looked over at Phil, who gave him a nod, as if to say,
Take care of her.

“All right, Grace,” Francis said.

“Come on. You’re a sorry specimen of a runt, but you’ll have to do.”

As the two left the room, Roger Asquith said, “Helen, John ... it’s time we went home.”

Five minutes later the trio were in their car, their chauffeur making his way down the long driveway.

“There’s a weak strain in that family, John,” Roger said to his son. “It shows up in that girl.”

John tried vainly to argue, even though he had never succeeded in winning any sort of argument with either of his parents. “She was basically brought up on the streets, Dad. What can you expect?”

“We expect you to marry a girl with a family of some decency and respectability, son,” Helen said.

“That’s right,” Roger snapped, shaking his head with distaste. “It has always bothered me that Phil Winslow is nothing but an artist.”

“But he’s very successful with his art.”

“That’s quite different from having a good family,” Helen insisted. “We’ve tried to warn you about this before, John. There’s something to a family’s bloodlines.”

“But they’re a very good family. The Winslows are—”

“They don’t belong to our set. Can’t you see that, John?”

He settled back wearily. He was not a strong man when it came to expressing his views, especially where his parents were concerned. Now he simply gave up the argument, as he always did. He stared blindly out the window as he listened to his parents pick apart every member of the Winslow family.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Jesus Loves Misfits”

Grace opened her eyes slowly, aware of the pain in her head. The texture of her tongue was like a blanket that had been in a garbage can for weeks. She tried to will herself back into unconsciousness, but sleep had fled, and she knew she must get up. She stared at the ceiling, aware that the sun was pouring its rich yellow beams through the window to her right. She could see thousands of dust motes dancing in the light, and from far away came the sound of a barking dog.

She sat up slowly, moving her head carefully and trying to push the memories of the previous night out of her mind. “They must really love me,” she muttered. “Being drunk at their party in front of Paige’s future in-laws! I’m surprised they didn’t kick me out.”

Grace had long had the ability to relive memories vividly. From her earliest childhood, she could still smell the odor of the boiling cabbage on the stove, see the bright colors of a caterpillar as it inched down a tree limb, hear Bertha’s shrill voice screaming at her that she was late for school. Most of her early memories were unpleasant, and she had learned to block them out of her mind by willfully thinking of other things.

This morning, however, as she went about the tedious business of getting ready to face another day with a hangover, she could not forget the previous day’s disasters. She could see the faces of her siblings trying hard to hide their distaste and her mother’s face, sad and grieved. She could also see
the faces of Roger and Helen Asquith, who had made no attempt to hide their feelings for her. “Stuck-up idiots,” she muttered on the way to the bathroom, where she washed her face and brushed her teeth. She shuffled back to the bedroom to pick out clothes for the day and was painfully conscious again that the clothes she had bought did not fit the new life she’d been thrown into. She thought of Francis and, as usual, did not know what to make of him. He was not like any man she had ever met, and he fascinated her. Yet she had no romantic notions of him. In the first place she had always liked big, dark men, and he certainly did not fit that category. She was impressed with how smart he was, and as she slipped into her dress, she thought,
He could probably do a better job picking clothes out than I can. He’d know about things like that.

She sat down and brushed her hair out, then put on her makeup. As she looked in the mirror, she was dissatisfied with what she saw. She did like the color of her hair, however, because it was unusual. There were always plenty of fake blondes, along with a few real ones, and there were some women with bright red hair, but she had seen very few strawberry blondes. It was her best feature, she thought, but she wished she could fix it in a better style. She rose and tossed the brush down.
If they’d had to live with Bertha,
she thought angrily,
they’d be as dumb as I am too!

Leaving the bedroom, she went down to find Cara in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Grace,” her mother said.

“Morning, Cara. Where’s Betty?”

“It’s her day off. I’ve been waiting for you. Phil’s already up in his studio, and Kev is out working on the car.”

“He’s good with engines, ain’t he?”

“Yes, he is,” Cara said with a smile. “That and flowers.” A shadow fell across her face. “I wish he was better with people.”

“He’s a real sweet guy. Too bad about the scars on his face.”

“Yes, it is.”

Grace sat down at the kitchen table and gave Cara an odd look. “Doesn’t it make you mad at God?”

“You mean because Kevin had an accident?”

“Yeah. Why did God let that happen?”

Cara took some eggs out of the refrigerator and laid them on the countertop. “It doesn’t make me mad at God. I don’t think anything could do that.”

“But what about all the other terrible things in the world? Little babies burning up in fires, old people getting hit by cars. Rich people havin’ it easy while nice poor people suffer. It makes me mad.”

“You must understand, Grace, that this is not the world that God made. He made a perfect world and put two people in it who were both perfect themselves. The Scripture says that they walked with God.” She smiled and said, “I’ve often thought I’d like to have seen that—Adam and Eve out walking with God.”

Grace tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “I can’t even imagine it. Did they wear clothes?”

“I wouldn’t imagine so. There was no need for it at first. And it’s hard to imagine how they walked with God because God is a spirit, and you can’t see a spirit. So somehow, I suppose, they just were conscious of the spirit of God.”

“Well, the world sure ain’t like that anymore,” Grace said defiantly.

“No, it’s not. It’s a ruined world we live in. There’s a dark power, the devil, that seeks to destroy mankind. But one day Jesus will come back, and the world will be remade. Then everything will be as it once was.”

“Most of us’ll be dead by then.”

“But there’s going to be a resurrection. Do you know that, Grace?”

“I don’t know nothin’ about religion. I never went to church. Bertha didn’t like it.”

Cara studied her daughter, and Grace’s neediness tugged
at her heart and spirit. She saw a young woman who was outwardly beautiful, though her appearance was tarnished by poor taste. But she also sensed that inside, Grace was a frustrated, angry young woman who had been battered by life. But beyond that, Cara believed, was a goodness and a sweetness just waiting to be released. She had been praying steadily since she had heard of Grace’s existence and knew that she would never stop until she saw the woman before her become beautiful on the inside as well as out.

“How about eggs Benedict this morning for breakfast?”

“Eggs Benedict? What’s that?”

“It’s a special way of fixing eggs. Come over here, and I’ll teach you to make it. I believe you’ll like it.” Cara showed Grace how to make the hollandaise sauce by melting butter in the top of a double boiler, then blending in egg yolks, lemon juice, and mustard with a whisk. She let this simmer while she poached four eggs, then began putting the dish together. She placed crisp English muffins on each plate, added thin slices of smoky Canadian bacon and the poached eggs on top, then poured a liberal amount of the hollandaise sauce over the eggs and bacon. She filled out each plate with one of the cinnamon rolls Betty had made the day before.

Cara set the plates on the table, and she and Grace sat down. Cara bowed her head, and Grace quickly did the same, although she didn’t close her eyes. “Lord, we thank you for this food and for the blessings of the day. In Jesus’ name, amen.” Cara looked up and smiled. “Now let’s see how you like eggs Benedict.”

Grace took a bite of the dish, and her eyes widened with surprise. “Hey, it’s good!” she said, taking another bite, followed quickly with a taste of cinnamon roll. “Nothing wrong with my appetite. I’ll be fat as a pig if I keep this up.”

“I don’t think so. Nobody on my side of the family or Phil’s is really heavy. It’s a blessing. We seem to be able to eat anything and not gain much weight.”

The two women finished their breakfast and sat drinking
coffee while Cara told Grace about her family. “We’re going to have a family reunion in about a month. I want you to meet them all.”