Moonlight in the Morning

  “I know,” the woman said. “She already called me.” The woman held on to Jecca’s hand with both of hers. “I can never thank you enough for this.”

  When she was gone, Jecca ran back upstairs. They still had six more outfits to finish. With more girls, and each one wearing two outfits, their workload had greatly expanded. Mrs. Wingate had made arrangements for the local hairdresser and her sister to be at their salon at 6 A.M. on Saturday. Jecca had drawn pictures of how she wanted the girls’ hair styled, and in two cases, cut.

  All of it was to be done with as much secrecy as possible.

  “Edilean has had a lot of practice in keeping secrets,” Tris said, but he wouldn’t elaborate.

  At midnight he made Lucy and Jecca turn off the lights, and he led Jecca across the hall to her bedroom. When he started to undress her, she said, “I’m too tired to—”

  The look he gave her made her stop talking. There wasn’t sex in his eyes but tenderness and caring. She gave herself over to him.

  He led her to a hot shower and undressed her. Through it all, he talked to her in a low, soothing voice. He told her what a good job she’d done all week, how well she’d managed the projects and the people.

  She got in the shower, and his words, combined with the hot water, were beginning to revive her and she reached out to him.

  But Tris stepped back. He picked up her bottle of shampoo, and whilepoosible.

  He rinsed her hair, turned off the water, and wrapped her in a thick towel. By the time they got to the bedroom, she was yawning. He dressed her, not in one of the lacy things she usually wore around him, but in her favorite old T-shirt.

  He pulled back the covers, and just as she’d seen him do with Nell, he gently put the cover over her and kissed her forehead.

  She thought he meant to leave, so she caught his hand.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “you can’t get rid of me. Let me shower and I’ll be back to hold you all night long.”

  Smiling, she fell asleep, and when he climbed in beside her, wearing only the bottoms to his pajamas, she snuggled against him, her lips on his bare, warm skin. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard herself say, “I love you.” She was even less sure when she thought she heard him say, “I know.”

  On Friday at lunch—the day before the show—Roan said he’d had some experience in the acting world. Since no one could see how that related to anything, there were no comments. That Roan, with his big voice and larger-than-life personality, had once been an actor seemed a given.

  “All right,” he said, “since no one seems able to take my hint, I’ll just tell you that I’m going to organize it all.”

  “You mean the fashion show? For the kids?” Jecca asked. She was hand sewing the roses Jake had made onto the neckline of a dress.

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Roan said. “Tris, you get lunch cleanup detail. I’ve got kids’ parents to call.”

  When Jecca started to ask questions, Roan said she and Lucy weren’t allowed to see or hear about anything. They were to go back to sewing, but Addy was to help him.

  “And give up bending over that machine?” Addy muttered. “How will I manage?”

  While Lucy and Jecca went back upstairs to bury themselves in the final adjustments to the clothes for all the children, the others went in and out of the rooms downstairs as they participated in Roan’s top-secret plans.

  Lucy didn’t ask questions, but Jecca did. Tris almost gave in and revealed everything a couple of times, but Nell kept him in line. “You’ll ruin it!” she warned her uncle. “We want Jecca to be surprised.” Tris refused to say anything about whatever Roan was doing.

  Over the course of the afternoon, the children who were going to be in the show returned to Mrs. Wingate’s house with their mothers—and one divorced dad.

  Jecca heard music, what sounded like stomping, and a couple of times, cheering. She wanted to know what was going on, but she had too much work to do to try to find out.

  Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, without a hint of a cloud in the sky.

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  “How are you doing?” Tris asked Jecca as he pulled her into his arms. They were at his house, snuggled together in his bed.

  “Fine,” Jecca said. “It’s just a little local kids’ show, that’s all. There’s no reason to be nervous.” She tossed the cover back, stepped out of the bed—and her legs collapsed.

  Tris caught her before she hit the floor.

  Jecca sat on the edge of the bed, Tris behind her, his long legs straddling hers as he pulled her back against him.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said as he kissed her cheek. “You have a lot of help, and everyone knows what they’re to do.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just that . . .”

  “That what?”

  “I just hope they’ll like my designs. If the audience doesn’t like them, they’ll laugh at those kids, and they’ve worked so hard and . . .”

  Tris kissed her more, his hands on her arms. “I’ve seen all the clothes, and the kids look great. You should have seen them with Roan! They’re the outsiders of the school and they’ve never done anything like this before. Jecca, baby, you don’t know what this is doing for them. And wait until you see what Roan has planned!”

  “Is it good?”

  “Fabulous! And don’t even think of trying to get me to reveal the secrets.”

  She rubbed her posterior against his manhood—which showed signs of growing. “Not even a hint?”

  “Jecca . . .” Tris began. “We need to get dressed and—” He gave a moan when she moved some more. “Those kids have hidden talents, and Roan found them. There! That’s all I’m telling you and that’s more than I should.” He got off the bed. “Come on and let me make you a good breakfast. You’re going to need your strength when Savannah finds out what you’re doing to her fashion show.”

  Jecca followed him into the kitchen. She was wearing one of his T-shirts and her undies. “You’re making a joke, right?”

  “Not in the least. Think three eggs will hold you until eleven?”

  “How much gin are you adding to the eggs?”

  Tris chuckled. “I only put rum in the eggs, and then only when I’m trying to break your defenses down. Go get dressed or I’ll never be able to concentrate.”

  She took a deep breath, and he could tell that she was deeply and truly nervous. He left the stove to put his hands on her shoulders, his forehead to hers. “Jecca, listen to me. You have nothing to worry about.” They both knew he’d said it all before, but she couldn’t hear it enough. “Your designs look great. More importantly, you are making some kids who have spent their lives in the background see themselves in a different light. You—”

  “And Nell. These kids were her idea, not mine. She deserves the credit.”cre diffe

  “The two of you,” he said, and there was such warmth in his voice that Jecca couldn’t help smiling. “Nell knew who they were, but you and your art and your generous heart have pulled them toward what no one thought they could do.”

  “I hope so,” Jecca said.

  “Okay!” Tris said. “That’s all the pep talk we have time for. Now go get dressed before the sight of your bare legs drives me insane and I have my way with you here on the kitchen floor.”

  “Maybe we should—”

  “Temptress, go!” he said and spun her around toward the bedroom.

  Reluctantly, she left the safety of his arms and got her clothes out of his closet. No matter how often she reminded herself that this wasn’t New York, wasn’t a show of her paintings, wasn’t something that was going to be ripped apart by critics, and wasn’t something that was going to forever affect her life, she was still nervous. She didn’t want to let the children down.

  How was little Kaylin going to do when walking down a runway in front of what Tris said would be at least a hundred people? The girl was so shy she’d hardly talk to Jecca. She had a vision of Kaylin
standing at the back of the runway and refusing to go any farther.

  One way or another, all the children except Nell were misfits, the kind of kids the others bullied and excluded from the normal school activities.

  As she dressed, Jecca again wondered what Roan had done with the children. Nell would do whatever was asked of her, but the other kids . . .

  Jecca took a moment to calm herself, then slipped on a black dress that she’d brought from New York. She was wearing head to toe black, as she didn’t want to call attention to herself. Today belonged wholly to the children. She put her shoulders back and went into the kitchen.

  “Wow!” Tris said. “No one’s going to look at the kids’ clothes with you in that dress.”

  “The idea is for me to be inconspicuous.”

  “Couldn’t happen,” he said as he kissed her, then put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her.

  “You just think that because you—” She broke off. “Love me” was what she’d almost said. But she couldn’t finish the sentence, wouldn’t finish it.

  “Yeah, I do,” Tris said softly, then told her to eat while he got dressed.

  Thirty minutes later they were in his car, he in his tuxedo, Jecca in her black silk sheath and heels. Her short dark hair was tamed into a respectable wave, and her makeup was subdued but perfect.

  Tris clasped her hand, kissed the back of it, and asked if she was ready.

  “I think maybe I am,” she said and was pleased to feel energy and excitement running through her.

  “Look out Savannah McDowell, Jecca Layton is on her way,” Tris said as he started the car.

  “Right on!̶Rig217;t 1; Jecca said.

  When they arrived at the party site, Jecca was impressed by the elaborate setting. First there was the house. In keeping with the tone set by nearby Williamsburg, the enormous brick mansion was some architect’s idea of “Colonial.”

  “Like it?” Tris asked as Jecca leaned forward to look up at the behemoth.

  “For what? A junior college?”

  He didn’t smile. “As a home.”

  “I grew up too blue collar for that,” Jecca said. “I like—” For the second time, she broke off. In her nervous excitement she’d almost said things she’d later regret. She’d almost said that she liked old houses near a lake. His house. Tristan’s lovely old house where three of the kitchen cabinet doors wouldn’t close, where the furniture had the stuffing exposed, the little doctor’s office looked like a Norman Rockwell painting, and the floors creaked. Tristan’s house, where she woke up to the sound of birds, where she and Tris made love on the island in his pond, where the ducks already knew that she carried food for them, where the playhouse sat waiting for her to bring it back to life.

  “I like New York apartments,” she said at last. She saw the little frown that crossed Tris’s beautiful face, and she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But she couldn’t say the truth—or even what she truly felt.

  Tris drove around the back of the house, and Jecca could see an area roped off where people were to park. Even though she and Tris were hours early, high school boys were already there, wearing bright yellow jackets in preparation for helping the cars park.

  What drew Jecca’s attention was the enormous structure in the middle of what had to be an acre of lawn. A T-shaped platform had been built. It was a runway as big as any in New York or Paris. To the back was a huge tent made of blue-and-white striped canvas. Along the sides were what looked to be over a hundred wooden chairs.

  “The birthday party that ate the earth,” Jecca said.

  “Exactly what Tyler says every year. Only it’s his bank account, not the earth.” Tris parked the car in an area that had been sectioned off with thick cords of gold.

  “I put off rehearsal and told Savannah I’d do it this morning, so . . .” Tris said.

  “So she’s going to swoop down and take you away?”

  “Pretty much. Will you be okay?”

  She glanced around and saw Roan’s beat-up old pickup a few spaces away. “Lucy and I will be drowning in clothes and kids. That should keep us busy.”

  “Looks like I’ve been seen,” Tris said as a tall, expensively dressed woman strode toward them.

  “I take it that’s Savannah. She should audition for The Real Housewives of Edilean.”

  “I dare you to tell her that,” Tris said as he got out of the car.

  Savannah ignored Jecca, as though she weren’t there. She slipped her arm through T art="0em">ris’s and led him away, as though he belonged to her.

  Jecca just shook her head and started for the tent. But Lucy met her before she entered.

  “They won’t let you or me in.”

  “Who won’t? Savannah?” Jecca asked. “Really! This is too much. First she takes Tris and now she—”

  “Not her. Livie, Addy, Roan. They say we’re to enjoy the show and let them do the rest of it.”

  “But they’re my designs.”

  “And I made them,” Lucy said.

  They looked at each other in silence for a moment, then Jecca said, “Cool. I’m so nervous I know I’d make a mess of it. So what do we do to kill two hours?”

  “Let’s go explore Savannah’s monster house and redesign it in our minds,” Lucy said.

  “What a deliciously wicked side you have to you,” Jecca said, and the two women walked away together, laughing.

  By the time the show started at eleven, Jecca and Lucy were in their seats. At first they’d taken seats in the back row—after all, it wasn’t really their party—but then a young man came to tell them that Dr. Tris had seats for them at the end of the runway. Smiling, Lucy and Jecca moved forward.

  The first thirty minutes of the show were just as Jecca had imagined. Overly confident girls—some of them nearly as pretty as Nell—strutted down the runway in their idea of being models.

  The audience politely oohhed and aahhed at the sight of the girls, their clothes, and the sedate, refined music, but there was nothing that anyone would remember by tomorrow.

  Tris, as MC, read from his cards, dutifully reporting what had been written for him to say. Jecca thought he looked as handsome as a movie star, but to her mind, he sounded a bit bored.

  The girls each had three outfits to wear and there were some delays, but it all went smoothly.

  When the last girl walked to the end, there was some commotion, as though people in the audience were about to leave, but then something odd happened. Someone blew a car horn. Not just blew it, but laid down on it and held it. The sound was fairly far away, so it wasn’t jarring, but it seemed to be a signal. Out of the tall trees and shrubs that surrounded Savannah’s multiacre garden, people started walking toward the runway.

  Jecca recognized some of them as people she’d met in Edilean. It looked like half the residents of the small town had come to see the second part of the show.

  The guests in the chairs sat back down as the residents of Edilean surrounded them, five to six people deep. Jecca saw Savannah peep out from behind the curtains, and there was a smile on her face. Obviously, she’d been expecting the people.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Tris said into the microphone, his voice rich and deep, “it looks like the show has just begun.”

  The music was changed from insipid to down-and-dirty rock and roll—and out came Nell. She was wearing theas ear and red jacket, black skirt, tights and shoes, a black beret sitting jauntily on the side of her head.

  Tris’s voice rang loud and clear—and the boredom was gone. “The clothes in the rest of the show were designed by Miss Jecca Layton, made by Ms. Lucy Cooper, and this one is modeled by Miss Nellonia Aldredge Sandlin.” He read the design card that Jecca had written for him, then told about Nell, that someday she would be Edilean’s resident doctor. Jecca noted that no one seemed to be surprised by this announcement.

  Next came shy little Kaylin—only she was anything but shy. She had on a pink silk top done in rows of soft ruffles and short trou
sers of brown and pink. Her backpack and big brimmed hat were of pink and brown, with lime green piping.

  “These young people are members of the Achievers’ Club,” Tris was saying, then told about Kaylin’s love of astronomy. “Her ambition is to prove that the planet Pluto does exist.”

  One by one the girls came out, and each time Tris told of their accomplishments. Maybe these girls weren’t the most popular in school, maybe they weren’t of the “in crowd,” but they had indeed accomplished a lot in their young lives.

  At the end of the first round, to Jecca and Lucy’s great surprise, out walked Rebecca wearing one of Jecca’s creations.

  Jecca’s mouth dropped open and she looked at Lucy. “When? How?”

  Lucy shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Jecca looked to her left and saw Roan grinning at her.

  “Rebecca says that her greatest achievement in life so far,” Tris said into the microphone, “is talking her parents into putting on this fashion show.”

  That made everyone laugh and applaud, then Rebecca went up on her toes, her hands over her head, and gave a perfect ballerina pirouette. Obviously, her years of ballet had paid off.

  The tempo of the music increased and out came Nell’s friend Davie. As she’d said, he wasn’t an attractive child, but from the way he strutted down the runway, he had a lot of personality. He stood still at the end, and one by one, the girls came out again. They walked down to Davie, he took each girl’s hand and led her around the end. He was the epitome of a gentleman—until he turned back to the audience and wiggled his heavy brows. Everyone laughed.

  At the end, Rebecca came out again in the last of Jecca’s designs, and when Rebecca walked past, Davie sneaked a kiss on her cheek and he followed her back toward the curtain.

  Jecca thought that was the end of the show, but then the music hit a crescendo, Davie turned back, and started running. He got two-thirds of the way down, then he jumped and did a perfect back flip. He landed exactly at the end of the runway, one knee down, and he held his hand straight out.

  “I present to you,” Tristan said loudly, “Miss Jecca Layton, the designer of the beautiful clothing that you have just seen.”