Kiss Them Goodbye. Stella Cameron
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still renovating, of course, but the house is already beautiful. Do please call me Susan, by the way. Dr. Link would like me to take his name but when we were married I chose to keep Hurst because it’s Olympia’s name. Anyway, I believe a woman should have some independence, don’t you? Without appearing strident, that is.”
On the surface Susan’s accent was almost Southern, but that was forced and phony and spread on over something Vivian didn’t recognize. “A woman should never be strident,” she said, and found herself looking at her mother again.
“Never,” Charlotte said. She stood behind Susan. Making outrageous faces at Vivian, she took one exaggerated step backward, then another forward to her starting position. “Never strident.” Vivian’s mother had an irrepressible sense of fun. “I thought your house was called Green Veil.”
Susan managed a haughty toss of the head. “It’s called Serenity House now. Much more refined and appropriate. I’m sorry to see the work on this place slow down so. It’s huge. Such a maze of wings and outbuildings. I’m sure you’ll be relieved to get rid of this Asian jungle theme. Monkeys and pineapples everywhere.” She shuddered discreetly.
“Guy Patin was still in residence when we bought Serenity or we might have looked at this—even if it is in a terrible mess. And the grounds are horrible, you poor things. Give me the word and I’ll send my head gardener over to talk to you. I know he and his crew could give you a few hours a week, or suggest another crew who can. Make sure you don’t get those people who work on Clouds End. Marc and Reb Girard’s place. All that overgrown tropical look wouldn’t appeal to me.”
Vivian had seen Clouds End and her ambition was to have Rosebank look just as lush. The Girards were nice people and had welcomed Charlotte and Vivian to the area. Marc was an architect and Reb the town doctor in Toussaint.
“Rosebank was never on the market,” Charlotte said. “You probably noticed right away that we’re also Patins. Guy was my husband’s brother and the house was left to us.”
“Of course I knew that,” Susan said. “Silly me to forget. We’ve been so busy for such a long time these things slip my mind sometimes.”
“We like what you call the jungle theme, y’know,” Vivian said. She might as well show the woman they weren’t easily intimidated, especially by money. “We’re going to keep it. It’ll be made wonderful again, of course.”
“Poor thing.” Susan patted Vivian’s hand as if she didn’t take a word seriously. “I can see you’re overwhelmed. Let me help you. Did I tell you our pool house is just about finished? It’s all marble. Very Roman and wickedly decadent, but almost edible.” She hunched her shoulders. “Morgan and I want you to use it whenever you have a mind. We know the pool here isn’t usable.”
“Thank you,” Vivian said, making a note never to have a mind for a swim in Susan’s decadent pool. “We do have a gardener and we’re very pleased with him.” Gil Mayes might be seventy-two and a bit crippled by gout but he showed enthusiasm for the work. Unfortunately he moved slowly and the gardens were big, but more men couldn’t be afforded yet, not until some serious money came in.
Susan said, “Hmm,” and flipped back her artfully shaggy red-streaked brown hair. Good-looking, sexy even, her mannerisms were naturally provocative. “I hope you won’t think me too curious, but after all we are neighbors. There are rumors about your having some intentions about this place—not that I believe a word.”
“Of course you don’t,” Charlotte said. “And a very good thing, too.”
If Susan didn’t know their intentions perfectly well Vivian would be amazed. And Mama might enjoy her banter but afternoon crept toward evening and she glanced repeatedly toward the front windows. Vivian knew her own uneasiness was for the same reason that her mother was edgy. Where was Louis?
“It may be crude to say so, but I come from money,” Susan announced. “Might as well have honesty among friends. I’m accustomed to a quieter, more gracious mode of life. It’s true that I’ve had my share of the social whirl in Paris, London, Milan and New York, of course, but I need the life only a true Louisiana lady knows how to live. Quiet. Refined. I’m sure you know what I mean. Soon Serenity will be perfect and I expect a good many visitors—friends—who expect a certain atmosphere at a house party.”
Vivian said, “I thought you wanted peace and quiet, not a load of uppity visitors.”
Vivian spied Boa, short for Queen Boadicea, her hairless Chihuahua. The tiny dog had roused herself from some hiding place and stood in the middle of the green silk rug with one minuscule paw raised. Her black eyes shone while she watched Susan. Like her namesake, Boa just didn’t accept her limitations.
“I didn’t know you had an animal,” Susan remarked. “I prefer big dogs myself, not that I have any.” Her nose wrinkled. “They just aren’t clean.”
“That always depends on the dogs you hang around with.” Vivian made sure she sounded sweet. “Come to me, sweetie pie. Come to mama.”
Her daughter, Charlotte thought, could be charmingly snippy. “I’m sure you’re very happy at Green Veil, Susan.”
“Serenity House.” The woman corrected Charlotte firmly. “Just to put my mind at rest, tell me you don’t intend to turn Rosebank into a hotel with some sort of, well, trendy restaurant.”
With Boa under her arm, Vivian had strolled to the windows and peered out into the rapidly darkening grounds. She heard Susan’s question and winced a little, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything but Louis’s failure to show up. Anger had begun to replace concern. He obviously wasn’t coming now and the way he’d treated them was just plain rude. Louis had always been polite, kind even, but she guessed they might not be important to him if a more valued client needed attention.
She realized there was silence in the room and turned around. Mama was eating a cookie, toothful by toothful, with the kind of close attention that spelled avoidance. Vivian recalled the question Susan had asked. “This will become a hotel, a good hotel, and we will be opening a restaurant in the conservatory. We intend to pull in clients who aren’t necessarily staying with us. My mother and I have a lot of experience in the business. I managed Hotel Floris in New Orleans. My parents owned Chez Charlotte. They ran it together and it was a huge success. I thought everyone in the area knew our plans.”
“A hotel?” Susan set down her cup and saucer and pressed her fingers to her cheeks. “I thought it must be a joke. Say you aren’t serious. Why, at your time of life, Charlotte, you should be taking things easy and enjoying yourself.”
“I will enjoy myself—doing what I like best. Vivian, it’s five-thirty.”
The heavy significance in Mama’s voice meant she was reminding Vivian that they would have a guest for dinner and that Susan Hurst needed to leave.
Susan wasn’t hearing anything that didn’t relate to the reason she was here—to try to influence Charlotte and Vivian onto her side. They would, if she had her way, come to realize that Susan was a superior person who should not be thwarted in any way.
“We have traditions to uphold, we Louisiana ladies. The reason I moved here—what I want from life—is to recreate a way of living that’s in danger of disappearing. I know both of you understand what I mean. Louisiana ladies, and houses like this, are about grace and holding out against progress.” Susan turned up her nose and turned down her mouth. “It’s up to us to keep certain standards alive. With something like a hotel, you could get any sort of person wandering about and most of them just wouldn’t fit in.”
Charlotte sat beside Susan and rested her hand on the back of the woman’s right forearm. “Now you calm yourself and trust our good judgment. We intend to make sure our business doesn’t endanger anyone who lives around here.” The devil had gone to work on her. “Why, we”ve already started looking for a reliable firm of uniformed guards to patrol the grounds—especially when we hold outdoor concerts that