Tigers in Red Weather (16 page)

Daisy turned and her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw Anita was wearing black. Daisy’s mother would rather kill her than let her wear black, and she felt a pang of envy.

“Where did you get your dress?”

“Oh, my mother bought it for me in New York, on her tour. I like yours, too. Black and white. ‘Dark needs no candles now, for dark is light.’ ” This last Anita said with a flourish of her right hand, holding the pose for a moment. Then she turned to Daisy. “We’re a pair.”

“Oh,” Daisy said, feeling a little sorry for Anita. “Anyway, I’ve been looking for Ed, but he’s disappeared.”

“Really? Do you think he’s been kidnapped?” Anita reached for one of Daisy’s oysters.

“No, he hasn’t been kidnapped.”

Anita slurped at the juice pooled in the shell. She looked around. “Neat party.”

The Top Liners were in full swing and the music seemed to make the low-hanging moon even brighter against the darkening sky. White dinner jackets swam in a sea of dresses, dusty shades of pink and lavender, beige silk and powder-blue linen. Blond heads leaned in pleasure toward their darker-haired companions. The sound of ice skimming off lowballs, and the occasional foghorn in the harbor, cut through the music. A firefly glanced the air near Daisy’s arm. The light from the Japanese lanterns, swaying on invisible metal wires, made everything beyond them disappear into the night.

“Do you think we could sneak a glass of champagne?”

“No way,” Daisy said. “My mother would kill both of us.”

“Too bad.”

“Hello, girls.” Daisy’s father came up behind them. “Having a good time?”

“Hi, Daddy.” Daisy thought her father looked like William Holden in his dinner jacket. “This is Anita.”

“A pleasure,” her father said, stooping to shake Anita’s hand. “So, what do you think of the party?”

“Absolutely smashing, Mr. Derringer. A real ringer.”

“Good.” Daisy’s father chuckled. “Now, what are you girls drinking? I’m sure the bartender could whip you ladies up some Shirley Temples.”

“That’s simply charming,” Anita said.

“OK,” Daisy said, sighing.

They followed her father to the bar. “On second thought.” He turned to them. “How about just a tiny drop of wine in some water? Wouldn’t that be a little more fun?”

“Yes, please.” Anita sounded practically winded by this suggestion.

Daisy’s father raised his hand. “Two drops of wine in two glasses of
water for these young ladies.” Daisy saw him wink at the bartender. “Now, just this one, all right? Why don’t you go on down and listen to the band.”

Daisy and Anita, carefully holding their glasses, made their way down to the bandstand. They stood off to one side watching the musicians, while couples danced on the wooden platform. One woman had taken her heels off and was dancing on the soft grass with her husband, who, still wearing his shoes, was slipping in the evening dew. They were laughing and clasping each other’s shoulders tightly to keep balanced. Seeing them made Daisy laugh, too, forgetting everything that had happened in the house. She noticed that the banjo player was staring straight at her. She stared back and then he smiled and a thrill shot through her. For a second, Daisy thought she would swell up to the size of that yellow moon and burst. Then she heard her mother’s voice calling her back to earth.

“Darling,” her mother said. “Look who I found.”

Daisy turned and saw her mother holding Tyler’s hand, pulling him toward them. Tyler, wearing a white dinner jacket and with his hair brushed down neatly against his head, was staring at her mother’s gauzy dress.

Daisy was still so full of the beauty of the evening, and a feeling of general goodwill, that she didn’t even mind that it took him several seconds to bring his gaze to hers.

“Hello,” he said, smiling.

“Hello.” Daisy felt like she was in a movie, that this was the moment where boy meets girl and all is right with the world.

“Hey,” Anita piped in. “You look awfully buttoned up.”

“I think he looks lovely,” Daisy’s mother said.

“Thanks, Mrs. Derringer. You look lovely, too.”

“That’s very nice of you, Tyler. How do you like Daisy’s pin?”

“It’s lovely.” He seemed to have gotten stuck on the word.

“Well,” Daisy’s mother said after a moment, “you kids have a nice
time. I have to go find Daisy’s father and make sure he’s not being carried off by some vixen or other.” She patted Tyler’s shoulder, and gave Daisy a secret wink.

“Did you just get here?”

“Yup. But you could hear the music all the way down North Water Street. It’s really a swell party.”

“Absolutely charming,” Anita said.

“What are you drinking?” Tyler squinted at their glasses.

“My father got the bartender to give us some wine with water in it,” Daisy said, feeling extremely sophisticated.

Tyler looked toward the bar. “Your dad seems pretty cool.”

“He is.” Daisy said a silent prayer of thanks to her father.

“He’s a riot,” Anita said.

“I saw Peaches earlier. She said she was coming with her parents.”

“That’s news to me,” Daisy said sharply.

“ ‘Double, double toil and trouble,’ ” Anita said.

“Well, she seemed pretty excited. You two are facing off tomorrow. The grand match.” Tyler grinned at her.

Daisy bit her lower lip. “Uh-huh.”

“Aw, don’t worry. You’re going to trounce her.”

“Uh-huh,” Daisy said. She didn’t want to think about the tennis right now; fierce sunlight and green clay.

“Let’s go see if we can sneak some champagne,” Tyler said, after taking a second look at the bar.

“Daisy’s mother …,” Anita began.

“No, it’s all right,” Daisy said, quickly. “But I don’t know how we’re going to do it. I don’t think the bartender will give us any.”

“That’s all right,” Tyler said. “It’ll be a laugh, even if we don’t get away with it.”

As they crossed the lawn to the bar, the band struck up “Poor Little Rich Girl.”

You’re a bewitched girl, better be aware
.

“Daisy … Woo-hoo there, Daisy.”

Daisy recognized the voice and her spine went stiff. Coming toward her was Peaches, swathed in a dress of pale pink netting that matched the rose she was wearing in her hair.

“Oink, oink,” Daisy whispered to Anita.

“She looks like a giant Pepto-Bismol,” Anita said.

“Hey, Peaches.” Daisy shifted from one foot to the other.

Peaches glanced at Anita, her eyes widening a bit at her black dress, and then cast her gaze over Daisy. She gave Daisy a small smile. “Well.” She turned and pretended to be surprised to see Tyler standing with them. “Why, is that Tyler Pierce I spy?”

Daisy rolled her eyes.

“Hello, Peaches,” Tyler said. “I like your rose.”

Peaches patted her hair. “My mother grows them. Pink Parfait. That means ‘perfect pink’ in French. She won a competition with them last summer.” She smiled at Tyler, showing teeth Daisy thought looked awfully horsey in the moonlight. “So where were you kids off to?”

“Well, if we let you in on our secret, you’ll have to swear fealty to the cause.”

“I love a secret,” Peaches said. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that about me, Tyler Pierce.”

“Swell.” Tyler laughed. “We’re going to try to steal some champagne from under the bartender’s nose. Want to join the mission?”

“Lead the way,” Peaches said, taking Tyler’s arm.

Daisy could have ripped that rose right out of her hair and stomped on it. She looked at Anita.

“Don’t worry about that slug. You’ll get your chance tomorrow,” Anita said. “I can loosen her racquet strings if you’d like.”

“Forget it,” Daisy said. She fingered the pearl pin her mother had given her. “Come on.”

They followed Tyler and Peaches to the bar.

Tyler turned to Daisy. “It looks like he’s keeping those bottles pretty well guarded back there.”

“That’s all right,” Peaches said. “My father lets me have a glass of champagne at parties. I’ll ask.”

They watched as Peaches walked up confidently and exchanged several words with the bartender, who dutifully began pouring two glasses. That’s what her mother had been talking about, Daisy realized. That’s what the
it
is, she thought, and she felt like crying. She didn’t have
it
, and she never would. No one would ever love her, or kiss her, let alone pour her a glass of champagne. She was doomed.

Peaches walked back carrying the two glasses. “Here, Tyler,” she said, handing him one.

“Aw, come on, Peaches,” he said. “Couldn’t you get four?”

She looked blankly at him.

“That’s all right,” he said. “You girls can share with me. But let’s take it somewhere where your parents won’t see.”

“We can go to the old ice cellar behind the house,” Daisy offered.

“Swell,” Tyler said.

“Swell,” Daisy said, taking Tyler’s arm and smiling sweetly at Peaches.

They sat on the back lawn and poked through the musicians’ cases, abandoned on the grass. Anita blew idly through an extra mouthpiece she found in the trumpet player’s case, while Daisy took her first sip of champagne from Tyler’s glass. She imagined she could taste his breath, sweet, left over from where he drank. But the champagne was bitter and it burned her throat. She ran her hand through the warm grass. She wanted to take her shoes off, like her mother had done when she was lying in that same spot earlier, but for some reason it felt like getting naked, so she left them on.

Peaches took her champagne in small sips, her pinky finger sticking out as she held the glass.

Anita put the shiny mouthpiece down and lay back, stretching her arms above her head. “ ‘How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears,’ “ she said to the sky.

Daisy smirked at Tyler and handed the glass back to him.

“Damn fine, champagne,” Tyler said, emptying the rest into his mouth.

For a moment Daisy felt embarrassed for him; the way he talked about the champagne, and then the rough way he drank it, seemed phony. Daisy hummed along with the music to make the feeling disappear.

“So, Tyler,” Peaches said, tipping her head at him coyly. “Are you going steady with anyone?”

Tyler laughed. “I never kiss and tell.”

“Oh, come on,” Peaches said.

“Geez, Peaches, you really know how to make a guy thirsty,” he said, slapping his forehead in mock embarrassment.

Daisy loved him again.

“All right, then,” Peaches said. “How about dancing? Do you dance, or is that a secret, too?”

“I’ll tell you, I’d rather have another glass of champagne.”

“Well, I suppose we can do that, too.” Peaches rose and gave Tyler her hand. “Come on.”

Tyler looked at Daisy and shrugged as he took Peaches’s hand. “I guess we’re getting more champagne.”

Daisy shrugged back because she didn’t know what else to do, but she felt a pain in her chest at how easily he had agreed.

“I hate her,” Daisy said, passionately, after they were out of sight. “I don’t think I will ever hate anyone more.”

The sound of “Sweet Georgia Brown” floated over them.

“She’s a drag,” Anita said. “But just think how wonderful you’ll be tomorrow when you beat her. That’s what I keep thinking of.”

“I might not beat her. Anyway, don’t say things like that, you’ll jinx it.”

Daisy wondered what had become of Ed. “I’m not going to wait behind this old ice cellar forever,” she said, finally. “We’ll miss the whole party.”

“They’ll be back soon.” Anita sat up and scooched closer to Daisy. “Do you want me to read your palm? One of my mother’s friends taught me how.”

“No, thanks,” Daisy said.

“Come on, we can find out if you’re going to win.”

“I told you to stop jinxing it.” Why was everyone so annoying tonight? She felt like getting on her bike and riding away into the darkness, up Pease’s Point Way, with the air from the harbor whistling in her ears. “Let’s go find them,” she said, standing up. “I’m getting bitten by mosquitoes just sitting here.”

She walked along the side of the house, Anita following slowly. Daisy kicked at little pebbles along the way, taking a queer pleasure in the thought that she was scuffing her white sandals. The path between the house and the fence was narrow and gloomy, and the party glowed brightly across the street. It gave her the same odd feeling as a dream she sometimes had, where she tried to call out but no one could hear her.

She was relieved when she emerged onto the front lawn, taking in a big gulp of night air. Something—a small sound perhaps—caught her attention. Then she saw them. They were standing on the porch, Tyler’s head bent down to Peaches’s lips, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. A painted lantern swayed above them, a Japanese woman combing her hair, and for a moment, Daisy wondered how she had been able to grow her black hair so long and make it curl in such perfect loops at her feet.

It was a quiet kiss, with only Peaches’s Pink Parfait quivering in the soft breeze, but Daisy’s ears were filled with an intense rushing sound, like being under the ocean, when it was both hushed and
deafening at the same time. Her pulse hammered. She opened her mouth, but just like her dream, nothing came out.

She watched Peaches’s arm slide up to Tyler’s neck. She wanted to move, knew she should, but she felt weirdly fascinated. And yet, she was also aware of a strange kind of not-there-ness. She was suddenly so thirsty.

Peaches pulled her face away from Tyler’s and let out a soft sigh. It pierced Daisy. She quietly moved back around the corner on her tiptoes, like an Indian, and, pressing herself against the side of the house, put her hand on her chest to stop the pain. She thought of Aunt Helena’s smeared makeup and of her mother’s big, red smile and the couple dancing in the wet grass. She started crying.

You’ll be the prettiest girl at the party
.

Anita nearly fell over Daisy in the darkness. She looked at her, and then peeked out around the corner.

“Ohhh,” she whispered.

Daisy tried to stop the tears by rubbing her eyes furiously, her knuckle squishing into the soft, damp skin. The sour leftovers of the champagne caught in her throat.