What I Saw and How I Lied

Chapter 14

Mom looked so beautiful and glowy that I thought I'd be wallpaper, like I always was, but that night started something new. Mrs. Grayson waved and said, "Ooh la la, look at you. I know it's supposed to be girl-boy, but Evie, come sit next to me." Mr. Grayson told me I looked "very lovely this eve­ning." He said it in a shy, courtly way that made me feel even prettier.

Peter stood up and pulled out a chair next to Mrs. Grayson, which meant he would be on my other side. Joe glowered as I sat down.

Peter leaned closer. "I guess I'm your boy, then, Evie," he said.

"And I'm your girl," I said right back.

There I was, right at the dinner table, in a grown-up dress. Candles were lit, the windows were open to catch the breeze, and everyone looked beautiful.

I was starting to catch the rhythm of the grown-up talk, how most things were a setup for a joke. And how people laughed at things even if they weren't funny, as long as they were said in a funny way. Joe had heard from somebody that there was a rumor that two German sailors had rowed to the beach from a submarine dur­ing the war. They'd had a drink at a bar and gone to the movies. Mrs. Grayson said people were way too afraid of spies and not afraid enough of politicians. That made everyone laugh. Peter said he was sure the story was true because everybody loved the movies, even Germans. Joe said we should have sent Lana Turner to Berlin and Hitler would have surrendered. Everyone laughed again.

His face flushed, Mr. Grayson held out an arm. "You see? Right here, at this table — this is how this hotel should be."

"Even on these awful chairs?" Mrs. Grayson asked. Everyone laughed, but I saw a line of worry between her eyebrows. There was a crease there that I was becoming familiar with, that you didn't see if you didn't look.

"With Joe and I running the place, it can't lose," Mr. Grayson said.

Silence fell on the table with a thud you could practi­cally hear against your eardrums.

"What's this, Joe?" Peter looked from Joe to Mr. Grayson. "You two going into business together?”

“Tom?" Mrs. Grayson asked.

"Well, we need to do some research," Mr. Grayson said. "Spin down the coast, maybe to Miami, look at the hotels down there. Get a sense of things. But this place could be a gold mine. No question about that."

"So you're going in partners, Joe? That's great news," Peter said.

"Trust and a handshake," Joe said. "That's all a part­nership is."

"And then there's the follow-through," Peter said. "We should all move here!" I said. I tried to catch Peter's eye.

"Sure, why not," Mrs. Grayson said. "I love Palm Beach." She laughed, and it sounded like silverware ringing against a plate.

"I'm thinking about tennis lessons," Mom said.

"There's the ticket," Joe said. "That will keep you busy. Tennis, golf, whatever you want. You can play year-round in Florida, you know. Hey, let's order some champagne."

"There's a golf course in Lake Worth that's right by the lake," Peter said. "It gets breezy in the afternoons.”

“That sounds like it's for me," Mom said.

We ate our chicken and our shrimp. Mrs. Grayson poured me a half-glass of champagne, and Joe didn't even mind. Mom had two glasses of champagne and glowed even brighter. Mrs. Grayson smoked instead of ate, and Mr. Grayson and Joe talked hotels.

"Let's have our coffee in the lobby," Mr. Grayson suggested, and everyone pushed back their chairs.

"Bed for me," Mrs. Grayson said brightly.

"Me, too," Mom said. "That champagne gave me a little headache."

"Mine is the size of Florida," Mrs. Grayson said, even though she hadn't touched hers.

"I'll come up with you, honey," Joe said.

"Don't be silly," Mom said. "Have your business talk with Tom. I'm taking two aspirin and going to bed."

I wandered after them into the lobby. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about me. When Peter said good-bye he barely looked at me. Tom and Joe picked a quiet corner, while Mom and Mrs. Grayson headed to the elevators.

I guessed Peter was being careful; he didn't want to get Joe steamed again. I felt lonesome, drifting around the lobby, too lonesome even for a game of solitaire.

In a few minutes I saw Wally come in and head for the desk. He was whistling under his breath, so I knew it was the end of his shift. I didn't want him to see me, so I ducked out of the lobby fast.

I killed some time doing what I used to do, walking through the hallways, peeking into the empty ballroom, looking for the fat man in the bar. Finally I slipped out a side door.

I breathed in the night air. Why did the air here smell like a pocketful of promises? It was the flowers and the ocean and the sky all mixed in together.

And then I saw Peter across the street, saw the gleam of his blond hair and the white of his jacket. The world seemed to fall away and arrange itself around him, and it was perfect.

He heard my clattering footsteps as I ran toward him, and he turned, surprised. "It's you, pussycat. What's the matter, can't sleep?" He took my hand. "Come on, let's go to the beach."

Perfect.