Hungry Spirits [Spirits 04] (26 page)

She shook her head, as if in awe and wonder. “You’re amazing, Daisy. I wish I could sew as well as you do.”

“
She even made a scarf for the dog,” said Billy, laughing as well as he could. “I told her he already has a fur coat, but she insisted he needed a scarf. For windy days, she said.”

“
Even dogs can get cold,” I said, grinning. “Besides, he looks adorable in it.”

“
He looks like a girl,” said my loving spouse.

We were all laughing when the elevator creaked to a stop at the second floor. “You know where the ballroom is, don’t you, Daisy?”

“
Yes. I’ve never been in it, but I know where it is.”

“
It’s all decorated for the wedding,” said Edie upon a romantic sigh. “It looks so pretty.”

She was right. When Quincy and I negotiated Billy into the room, we saw that it had been decorated in very Christmassy reds, greens, and silvers, with garlands and so forth draped all over the place.

“
Shoot,” said Billy. “This place looks real classy.”

“
It sure does.”

I wasn’t altogether sure where we were supposed to sit, but fortunately, Harold had been watching for us. He dashed over as soon as he saw us, grinning like a jack-o’-lantern. “Daisy!” he cried. “And Billy! I’m so glad you could join us for this happy occasion.”

“
Thanks, Harold.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Billy shook his hand and didn’t even frown, which was a concession neither Harold nor I had anticipated. But Billy could behave when the situation called for it.

“
Quincy,” said Harold, “will you help get the Majestys settled? Over here.” He gestured to a row of seats about in the middle of the room, close to the door we’d entered. “Take the outer seats, so you won’t have to climb over anyone. I’d sit with you, but I have to give my mother away.” He rolled his eyes and trotted off.

“
Hey, that was nice of him,” said Quincy, gazing after Harold. “His mother is probably having conniption fits, but he must have come out here in order to see that you could get good seats.”

“
He’s a good friend,” I said, meaning it sincerely.

Billy remained silent. No surprise there.

We settled into our seats and looked at the gathering throng. There were sure a lot of people in attendance, and everyone was dressed to the nines. I smiled at several of the folks I’d met over the years through my business as a spiritualist, and was kind of surprised when Miss Emmaline Castleton entered the room, paused, looked around, spotted me, and walked over, leaving her escort—I think it was her father, although I’m not sure—to fend for himself. He didn’t seem to mind, as he evidently knew just about everyone there. He was jovially greeting friends and acquaintances when Emmaline slipped into the chair next to mine.

“
I’m so glad you’re here, Daisy,” she said. Then she glanced at Billy, so I made the introductions.

“
How do you do, Miss Castleton?” Billy said politely as they shook hands. He’d risen at her approach, noble soul that he was. It wasn’t easy for him to get into and out of chairs.

“
I’m well, thank you. And you?” Then she appeared flustered, as if she hadn’t meant to ask that of a man in Billy’s condition.

I wished she’d kept her poise a little better, since her losing it meant Billy would know we’d discussed him when I went to her home for luncheon.

But Billy didn’t react to her clear uneasiness. He only smiled blandly and said, “Fine, thank you.”

I loved my Billy so much. It was times like that when I forgot all the unhappiness and bitterness in our relationship and remembered why I’d fallen in love with him and married him.

“
It’s so nice to see you here, Emmaline,” I said in order to divert attention from Billy to me. That was my duty, after all.

“
Yes, I really felt I ought to come. Harold and I have known each other for years now.” She eyed me speculatively. “Have you given any consideration to our discussion, Daisy?”

“
Oh my, yes,” I said. “But I’m not entirely sure how to go about part of it, although I have spoken to one of the people you asked about.” What with Billy sitting right next to us, I didn’t want to get into Hilda’s having probably illegally entered the country. Not that he’d have done anything about it, but . . . well, I just didn’t want to talk about it in a crowded room, I guess.

“
You’ve spoken to . . . ?” Emmaline let her sentence die out. I guess she didn’t want to talk about the matter in a crowded room, either.

“
Yes. I did. He’s. . . .” Oh, boy. If I told Emmaline that Johnny Buckingham said he’d pray about it, Billy would know something funny was going on. “He’s going to get back with me on the matter.”

“
I see. Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”

“
I know you’re in a hurry about it, but. . . .”

“
No. That’s all right, Daisy. Yes, I’m impatient, but being impatient in this situation won’t do a bit of good. I know that. I just hoped things would move . . . smoothly. That’s probably asking too much.”

“
I wouldn’t mind, myself, if things went smoothly every now and then,” I said, aiming for a light tone and not achieving it.

She smiled, and I got the feeling she knew exactly what I was thinking. With a sigh, she rose. “Well, I’d best go find Father. Mother was ill and couldn’t come, so I have to keep my eye on him.” Turning to Billy, she said, “It was such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Majesty. Daisy has told me so much about you. You’re lucky to have each other.”

And with that, she left us, loping off to find her father in the crowd. I noticed Billy’s lifted eyebrows, and said, “She lost her fiancé in the war. A fellow named Stephen Allison.” I heaved a deep sigh. “So many people lost so much.”

“
Yeah,” said Billy. “That’s for sure.”

We subsided into silence for several moments, both of us glancing around at the decorations and the people, most of whom were also quite decorative. I’ve seldom seen so many magnificent gowns in one room, with the exception of some of the parties for which I’d been hired to perform—you know, read tarot cards and palms and stuff like that.

After quite a while, Billy said, “Do you really feel comfortable with these people, Daisy? Most of them are so rich, and we’re so . . . not rich.”

“
Oddly enough, I do, Billy. I guess it’s because I’m used to being around them. When you think about it, people are really pretty much all alike, except that some of them have money and some don’t. Mind you, I know darned well that the rich and the poor are different from each other, mainly because the rich have more opportunities than the rest of us. But . . . well, we’re all human, if you know what I mean.”

He grinned, which I took as a good sign. “And if the rich folks hire you, I guess that means we’re all gullible, too.”

I laughed a little, although I didn’t think the comment particularly amusing. “I guess so.”

The organist began to play then, and everyone who still stood found places to sit. The music was glorious. Sounded just like church, actually. Father Frederick, Mrs. Kincaid’s priest (Episcopal variety) entered the room at the front, where a platform had been set up with an altar and all the normal church-type stuff that goes along with weddings. The setting was fabulous, and I suspected Harold, who was quite artistic, and his . . . um, gentleman friend, I guess is what you’d call him . . . Del Farrington had arranged for most of the decorations.

The groomsmen, who’d been put to work seating everyone, were, I presumed, Mr. Pinkerton’s sons. They were a good-looking pair. So was Del, who, oddly enough, seemed to be Mr. Pinkerton’s best man. I’m not sure why that was, but he was standing up front with Mr. Pinkerton and Father Frederick.

And then the best part of the ceremony began. I don’t know who the little boy and little girl were whom they’d got to act as ring bearer and flower girl, but they were adorable, and they did their jobs beautifully. Stacy came next, looking actually quite nice. She hadn’t attempted to do anything outrageous with her makeup or hair, and she wore a simple, stylish gown. Then came Mrs. Kincaid’s sister, whom I’d met the year before, and who had also lost a son in the war. She was matron of honor, I guess.

The organist began playing Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March.” We all stood up—including Billy—and in came Harold with his mother on his arm. Mrs. Kincaid looked as good as I’ve ever seen her look. She was around fiftyish, I guess, and a little round, but her light-blue gown and veil were very lovely. And she didn’t flutter or fidget! That amazed me almost more than Stacy behaving herself.

The ceremony was beautiful, and Billy agreed that he’d go to the Valley Hunt Club for the reception with me. “It’s probably the only time I’ll ever get to see the place.”

“
Me, too, come to think of it.” The Valley Hunt Club was a
most
exclusive club. It didn’t cater to the likes of the Majestys and Gumms.

I’d just started worrying about how to get Billy out of the ballroom and into the elevator when Quincy showed up. I suspected he’d received Harold’s instruction in that regard. Whatever had prompted Quincy to act, his assistance was greatly appreciated by Billy and me.

“
Did you enjoy the show?” asked Quincy as he guided Billy to the elevator.

Billy chuckled. “It was a show, all right.”

“
It’s going to be difficult for me to think of Mrs. Kincaid as Mrs. Pinkerton,” I said, adding my bit to the conversation. “She’s been Mrs. Kincaid for so long, you know?”

By that time, we’d reached the elevator, and Edie, still working as the operator thereof, joined in. “Me, too. But I like Mr. Pinkerton ever so much better than Mr. Kincaid.” She gave a theatrical shudder, and I didn’t blame her. Mr. Kincaid used to try to trap Edie with his wheelchair and pinch her bottom. Awful man!

The Valley Hunt Club was as elegant as we expected it to be. After I seated Billy at a table where our name cards resided, I made it through the reception line, and both Mr. Pinkerton and Mrs. Kincaid—I mean Mrs. Pinkerton—hugged me. It was nice to be appreciated. Emmaline Castleton and I spoke briefly once more, but again, we weren’t able to discuss our mutual problems. She said she’d ’phone me once she got her father to “cooperate with me on writing the letters. First, of course, I need to meet your . . . friend.”

Hilda. Hmm. No friend of mine, really. Yet I didn’t dislike her. In fact, I felt rather sorry for her. Mrs. Bissell had told me she was the best maid she’d ever had working for her—and she’d employed tons of maids over the years. So it seemed Hilda was willing to work, and work hard, for her keep. It seemed a shame that Hilda should suffer because of the wretched Kaiser and our stuffy immigration laws.

We didn’t stay awfully long at the reception, primarily because Billy began fading fast after the meal was served. We ate a perfectly lavish dinner, and then we made our excuses and escaped. Mrs. Pinkerton said she understood completely when I told her Billy’s health prevented us from staying for the rest of the evening. Heck, even if he’d felt better than he did, what was the point? We sure couldn’t dance together, and I wouldn’t have trotted off with some other dance partner and leave Billy by himself. Not even Harold, who assisted us to the car.

“
Thanks, Harold. You’re a true friend,” I told him as he helped Billy into his seat.

“
Happy to help, Daisy. Lord knows, you’ve helped my mother and me often enough.”

“
Your mother, maybe. You, never. I only ever got you into trouble.”

“
But I was a willing participant,” Harold said, laughing. He glanced back at the club and sighed. “But I’d better go back in there and continue to do my duty. Got to dance with all of Mother’s friends, God save me.”

“
Thanks, Harold,” said Billy. I think he meant it.

“
You’re more than welcome,” said Harold. And he left us to rejoin the festivities.

“
What friend of yours was Miss Castleton talking about? Why does she have to meet her?” asked Billy once we got settled in the Chevrolet. When I glanced over at him, I noticed he appeared really ill. His skin was more pasty than ever, and he had the sheen of perspiration on his brow. It occurred to me that he might be missing his morphine syrup, and my heart gave another of its huge, painful spasms. What a hideous fate to befall so wonderful a man as my Billy. Naturally, I didn’t ask him if he was suffering some kind of withdrawal symptoms. I’d pretty much closed the door to his communicating with me about his problems. My fault, and I felt it deeply.

“
There’s a woman in my cooking class whom I suspect is a German lady here in the United States illegally.”

“
Really? Is that the one who keeps running away when Sam shows up?”

I heaved a sigh. “No. That’s another one. She’s got other problems.”

“
Oh?”

He appeared interested, and I found myself almost blabbing the truth to him about the Minneke siblings. I recalled my promise to Gertrude in time to shut my mouth on total revelation, although I had another painful spasm, this one more of resentment than sympathy for my Billy. I didn’t care to be the recipient of such morbid secrets as the one Gertrude and Eugene had thrust upon me. Help to get them out of Pasadena and welsh on their promises, indeed.

Pooh. I didn’t want to talk about this stuff. “She’s worried about her brother, who’s in some sort of trouble.” There. That didn’t reveal too much.