Hidden in Shadow Pines (12 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Tuesday, August 13, 2013, 1:50 p.m.
(day 8 in Shadow Pines—etiquette and speech)

I picked up my pace, wanting to see if I could catch a glimpse of the person who was driving the white van. I scanned the parking lot, but I couldn’t find it again.

“Isabella.” Someone shouted my name.

I turned to see a young woman running toward me. “It’s me. Paige. From the café.”

It never occurred to me that Paige would be in the same afternoon activity. “You changed your outfit pretty quickly.”

“Gus cleans on Tuesdays so I can make my meeting. I clean on Wednesdays when he has his meeting. The rest of the week we tag-team so getting out doesn’t take as long.” She smiled.

“You want to sit together?” Paige asked. Then in a whisper, she said, “Some of the older ladies don’t like to sit with me because I’m too bubbly for them.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” I answered quickly. “This is my first etiquette and speech class, so you can prepare me for what’s going to happen. I have to say I’m a little apprehensive.”

“I can tell just by watching you at the café that you have better manners than half the women here.”

We went inside and down the hall to a formal dining room. Four tables with six chairs each were set with gold-rimmed china, crystal-stemmed glasses, and gold silverware. Each table was draped in white linen tablecloths with white linen napkins in gold napkin rings, engraved with the initials
sp
.

Each centerpiece—square vases filled with red roses—stood no more than six inches high so as not to block anyone’s view of the person sitting across the table from her.

The walls were papered in a burgundy-and-gold baroque pattern. Gold molding accented the burgundy ceiling. Above the room hung three sparkling crystal chandeliers.

Paige broke my trance. “Let’s go sit over there.” Paige pointed to the back table. She continued talking as walked. “We have to stand until the chimes, though. Once we hear the second chimes, no one may speak unless spoken to by the Royal Lady.”

We stood behind our selected chairs. Paige nudged my arm and I turned to look at her. Leaning in, she whispered, “Have you met Charlotte Hannon yet, the Royal Lady? If you had, you’d definitely remember her. If you speak out of turn, you’re on clean-up duty tonight for the men’s meeting. It’s no fun—trust me. I’ve had to do it plenty of times.”

I gave her a look of fake surprise. “And you haven’t learned your lesson by now?”

Paige shrugged. “I can’t help it if I want to speak my mind. I’ve asked the town council to assign me to a different activity, but they told me this is good for me.”

Chimes. Everyone sat in unison. Paige introduced me to the ladies sitting at our table—Marcia, Janice, Ruth, and Janet. Light chatter continued until the second chimes, then deadly silence. Not even a cough. A woman stood and walked over to a shiny oak podium. I assumed she was the Royal Lady.

“May we bow our heads and pray. Bless us today as we gather to celebrate the learning process. You have bestowed another beautiful summer day upon us. Tomorrow we will gather to mourn the loss of two beloved members of this community, Gloria Pettit and Thomas Moe. Please give us the strength to celebrate their lives as we join together. Bless the food we are about to partake in. May it bless us and provide us with the nourishment we need to carry forward. We say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”

Three teenage boys entered the room carrying trays with soup bowls. I watched as they put a bowl in front of the others at my table. No one said
thank you
, which I thought was odd. The boys left and two more boys entered and finished serving the soup.

The Royal Lady spoke. “A reminder. Use the outside spoon. Hold the spoon by resting the end of the handle on your middle finger, with your thumb on top. Dip the spoon sideways into the soup near the edge of the bowl, then skim from the front to the back. Sip from the side of the spoon. No slurping. Avoid hitting the bowl. Let’s see how quiet we can be today.”

I looked at Paige with a bewildered look. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.

The tomato soup was delicious. Made with cream and a hint of nutmeg.

“Time is up. Put the spoon in your dish. Please raise your hand if you would like to comment on the first course.”

I was beginning to wish I hadn’t eaten the apple pie and the brownie. The room remained silent. No one raised a hand.

“Very well. The second course is a chicken breast over a bed of wild rice with a side of green beans. Rolls and butter are on the table. Once everyone is served, you may carry on with conversation. I will walk the room and take notes.”

The three boys entered the room again. Each plate appeared to have been prepared identically, with the food set at the exact same angle on each plate.

During the second course, the boys filled water glasses. I’d finished cutting the chicken into bite-sized pieces when Marcia handed me a basket of rolls. I’d had plenty of carbs for the day, so quickly passed the basket to Paige. I took a couple of bites of chicken with rice, then picked at the rest of the food with my fork.

“Do you not like the food, Isabella?” asked the Royal Lady standing behind me.

My pulse quickened and I sat up straight with my back against the chair. I didn’t know if it was proper etiquette to turn and face the Royal Lady or look straight ahead. Just as in flipping a coin, I had a fifty-fifty chance of being right. Choosing tails, I looked straight ahead, focusing my gaze on Ruth and Janice sitting across the table. “It’s delicious. I already ate lunch. I didn’t realize I’d be eating.”

“Then you didn’t inquire what this activity would entail?”

I could hear the sneer in her voice. “No. I assumed…”

The Royal Lady cut me off mid-sentence. “We
never
assume.” She put her hand on my shoulder, then whispered in my ear, “You must learn to ask the right questions.”

Janice and Ruth shook their heads, letting me know they were disappointed with me. Turning my head a little, I could see the Royal Lady had moved on to the next table. I dropped my head and let out a sigh.

Paige leaned over and said, “If I’d known you were in this activity, I’d have warned you at the café.”

Regaining my composure, I asked, “How many activities are there?”

“Tons. The town council has a schedule to make sure that everyone has an activity each day that fits into that person’s schedule. I don’t know how they keep it all straight.”

Janet must have been listening to our conversation, because she spoke for the first time. “Just because you’re not organized, doesn’t mean that everyone else is the same.”

I instinctively put my hand on Paige’s arm, fearing she would retaliate with an unkind word. Instead, she clinched her jaw and with a forced smile said, “Yes, of course.”

I caught bits and pieces of a conversation the next table was having about Thomas.
Thomas helped Francine with finances. Took Devlin to therapy. Took turns mowing their lawn.
I wanted to hear more, but the woman next to me started talking about her recipe for orange tapioca salad.

Thomas never mentioned to me that he knew the Stovalls so well. He’d apparently changed over all the years since his name had been written on the slip of paper left in the safe deposit box. He’d only pretended to be my friend. But, still, I was sorry that he’d died.

Paige nudged my leg with hers. I looked over at her with a questioning look. She tilted her head toward the podium. The Royal Lady had started speaking and I hadn’t been paying attention.

“…strawberry, then the second round with chocolate. I want you to watch their facial reactions, their movements. Be prepared to comment on anything you notice. This is a test of how you handle yourself in an awkward situation.” She paused as she looked at each table. “Please begin the first round.”

I watched Marcia take a bite of the strawberry ice cream. Her eyes widened and her mouth moved quickly from side to side. She grabbed her glass of water and drank half of it, her eyes, watery. She patted the napkin on her lips, then sat very quietly, hands folded in her lap. Not once did she look at me.

“Second round begins in one minute,” the Royal Lady announced. I looked at the chocolate ice cream in front of me, but based on Marcia’s reaction, I knew it wouldn’t taste like chocolate. I told myself to relax and be calm.

“Second round, begin.”

I took a spoonful of the chocolate ice cream. Black licorice—the vilest concoction. And I was going to have to swallow it. I felt the ice cream seep into every crevice in my mouth. I’d taste black licorice the rest of the day. I thought of Tom Hanks in the movie
Big
when he ate caviar and realized how disgusting it was to him. I wanted to open my mouth and spit out the ice cream as he had the caviar. I thought what a scene that would be, with the ladies shocked in horror. I imagined ladies talking out of order, ice cream bowls thrown against the wall. The Royal Lady losing control. My lips formed a smile.

In the next hour, the Royal Lady went over her notes. Be neat, and don’t spill soup on the tablecloth. If you eat the soup correctly, you shouldn’t have it dribble down your chin. A messy napkin reflects a messy eater. The Royal Lady selected people at random to talk about the ice cream tasting.

After each person spoke, she noted corrections to make on the way they stood, whether they used their hands too much, if they used crutch words, did they make eye contact with others in the room. Not once did she say anything complimentary.

“Isabella,” the Royal Lady said, “please tell us your impression of the meeting.”

I was ready to talk about Marcia and the strawberry ice cream, not my impressions. I stood and took a deep breath. “I have learned many valuable lessons today. Perhaps the most important was to ‘ask the right questions.’ Too often we assume, as evidenced by the cinnamon and licorice ice cream disguised as strawberry and chocolate. Learning is a process. Not done in a day, week, or year, but a lifetime. I believe that positive feedback should go hand in hand with negative feedback. One encouraging word can change a person’s perspective dramatically. Thank you.” I sat quickly.

The only person I could look at was the Royal Lady. I felt my checks getting warmer. I couldn’t believe what I’d just said. I’d actually stood up for myself. I waited for her remarks, but she didn’t respond. However, I could feel the daggers her eyes were sending my way. Instead, she said, “Thank you, ladies. This meeting is concluded.”

Chatter began as soon as the women stood and headed for the door. Paige leaned over, wrapping her arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “I can’t believe you stood up to her like you did. Some of the elderly women at the next table looked horrified. I wanted to stand and shout ‘good for you’ but I’d probably be doing dishes tonight and for the next month if I had.”

“You make me laugh,” I told her. She reminded me of Harper. It was the first time since I’d been in Shadow Pines that I felt as though I’d met a true friend. “On a serious note though, I need to buy something to wear to the funeral tomorrow. Where can I find a dress?”

“Go to L&S. It’s not far from the church. I’ll show you.”

We walked out of the church and to the corner of First Street. Paige pointed down the road. “L&S is three doors along, on the right.”

“Thanks again for all your help today, Paige. See you at the funeral tomorrow.”

L&S was a women’s clothing store. The sign on the door said
Sizes range from 2 to 24
. A bell jingled when I opened the door. Inside, I found neatly displayed racks of slacks, tops, dresses, and jackets. A surprising variety of clothing styles hung in the shop, considering the limited number of clientele.

A woman, mid-forties, maybe about a size twelve, approached from the back room.

“Isabella? Isabella Luster?” she asked, sounding like she thought I was a rock star.

“Yes,” I acknowledged. “I’m looking for a dress to wear to the funeral tomorrow.”

“So sad about Gloria and Thomas. Fine, fine people. So tragic, but God has plans for us and we shouldn’t question His actions.” She paused a moment. “I bet you’re a size four. Is that correct?”

“Four or six. Depends on the designer.”

“Come back over here.” She motioned me to follow her. “I hope we have something to your liking. My name is Rosemary, by the way.”

Six dresses hung in my size range. Three were too colorful, definitely not right for a funeral. Two had black-and-white patterns, and a third was a dark purple with white piping. I took the last three dresses off the rack.

“Where’s the dressing room?” I asked.

“In the corner,” she said, pointing. “Let me know if you need a different size.”

I tried on the first dress. It fit well, but was sleeveless, which meant I’d have to buy a black sweater to go with it. The second dress in a geometric black-and-white design with long sleeves and a hem just below the knee fit like a glove. I tried on the third dress just for the heck of it, but it was a little too tight.

I grabbed the geometric print dress and took it to the counter. “Do you have a plain black scarf?” I asked.