Page 76 of The Treasure House

Elton was playfully being heckled as he came down the stairs with his phalanx of friends. He was a gentle guy, with floppy blond hair and big brown eyes. He took the teasing in stride.

“Have fun at your shower,” Freddie told Marly, and then he was off, slipping into the tide of men, all headed down to the shore.

Marly’s dad broke away from the tide and came over to kiss her on the forehead. “Marly, you can charge your meals to the room. Don’t stay out after dark, you hear? You go straight back to your room.”

“Sure. Have fun,” she said lamely as she watched them go.

When she was fourteen, she would have been in seventh heaven to be let loose at Saint-Cyr, but it really wasn’t much fun when you were seventeen-almost-eighteen and all alone. She drifted out to the patio and watched the bachelor party pour down to the pier and out onto a waiting vessel. She leaned against the railing and wondered what kinds of things were happening up at the house on Tinker Street. Were they really sitting around eating deviled eggs and playing silly parlor games? Or were there more adult things that Marly couldn’t know about yet? She thought there must be, or she would have been invited.

She passed a lazy day at Saint-Cyr by herself, eating an early dinner alone, the highlight of which was the dessert cart. She had lemon chiffon pie. But it wasn’t satisfying.

The thing was, Marly realized as she looked around the dining room at the other diners, life was no fun alone. She thought of Sylvie and Elton with their arms around each other at the engagement party, both shining with happiness and giving each other secret looks. And she thought of Freddie de Marche and his fake laziness, which hid a repressed and restless energy. If Freddie had been here eating dessert with her, the night would be entirely different. The dining room might have some charm. When he was here, Saint-Cyr’s old-fashioned fustiness became timeless charm, the little covered candles on the table seemed magical, the square music romantic. Freddie de Marche had that power. He made everything seem alive.

On the wedding day, Marly took as much care with her appearance as the bride did. Thank goodness she’d talked her mom into letting her wear the same dress as the other bridesmaids, even though she was only seventeen. As she turned in the mirror, admiring the way the ice blue silk taffeta tea dress clung to her, she imagined Freddie’s face when he saw her. No one would dare call her a kid when she was wearing this. The dress had a high neck and no sleeves and was inspired by something Sylvie had seen Grace Kelly wear in a movie. Sylvie’s own dress was designed almost exactly after Debbie Reynolds’s dress from when she’d married Eddie Fisher the year before. She and Mom had decided Sylvie was far more the Debbie Reynolds type, and the lacy organza with its sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves suited her sweetness and pep perfectly. Marly, meanwhile, didn’t feel at all sweet in her dress, thank goodness.

Her hair was pinned up, just like the other bridesmaids’, with a spray of daisies just behind her left ear. The only difference between her and the others was that they wore heels, while Mom had made Marly wear flats, and they had pearl chokers, while Marly only had a pearl bracelet.

“It doesn’t matter if you look different,” Cilla had said, cutting off her protest as they got ready together in the main bedroom. “You’re the junior bridesmaid, you don’t have to look the same.”

Cilla was depressingly lovely in her tea dress. Her hair was cut in the Italian style and it framed her face beautifully. The color of the dress made her blue eyes shine.

But Freddie didn’t love her, Marly reassured herself. She knew he didn’t because he didn’t behave the way people did in the books and movies when they were in love. His gaze didn’t follow her, he didn’t share secret smiles with her, he didn’t give her a look like he wanted to devour her whole.

He didn’t look at Marly that way either. But that was only because he thought she was just a kid. That was a perception she could change.

“Oh, I’m so nervous, I could die,” Sylvie gasped, pressing her hands to her midriff.

“That’s as it should be.” Aunt Betty chuckled. She was decked out in a deep cerulean silk suit, with a little hat with a net. “You’re lucky you’re not sick from the nerves like I was. Remember that, Lorraine?”

Marly was the only one who noticed that her mother didn’t respond. That she didn’t even seem to recognize her own name. She was standing at the edge of the room, holding the lace veil with a faint frown on her face.

“Mom?” Marly went to her, concerned.

“Oh honey, don’t you look lovely.” Mom’s big hazel eyes, so like Marly’s own, were soft with appreciation. “You got so beautiful.”

Marly was shocked to find tears pricking. “Thanks, Mom.”

“And this will finish it perfectly.” Mom lifted the veil to Marly’s hair.

“Oh no. No, Mom, that’s not for me. That’s for Sylvie.” Marly caught her mother’s hands. She hoped no one had noticed. “It’s Sylvie’s wedding, Mom, remember?” She searched her mom’s eyes. They were confused. “Here, Mom, let me.” Heart pounding and hands sweating, Marly took the veil to Aunt Bet, who pinned it in Sylvie’s honeyed hair as the girls chattered. But in the corner, Mom still looked anxious and confused.

Marly slipped downstairs and found her father. “Daddy? Can you come?”

Marly’s father was a self-contained man. He’d been away at the war for the first few years of her life and had always been reserved and a bit awkward with her. He knew how to act with boys; with Marly he wasn’t so sure. But she felt comforted by his stolidness on Sylvie’s wedding day.

“Just bring her out onto the landing, honey,” Dad said calmly. “And I’ll escort her down for the ceremony.”

She could tell he was worried, but he gave her a nod, like he’d take it from here.

Marly brought her mother out.

“Well, what is this?” Daddy said, taking Mom’s hands and kissing her forehead softly. “Did an angel fall to earth?”

Mom sagged against him. “Walt…” she said in a small, uncertain voice.

“I know, honey. It’s okay.” He kissed her again. “I’m here. Now let’s just go down to the garden and take a seat, okay?”

Marly watched her father lead her mom downstairs and found she was trembling like a leaf. Her father looked up as they reached the hall and caught her eye. He gave her the faintest of smiles and then passed out of sight. Marly had never loved him more than she loved him in that moment. And she’d never been so afraid.