Cara’s gaze surveyed the room, filled with the people she loved most in the world. Everyone was seated around the long table, their plates overflowing. She felt a stirring emotion run through her thinking of her mother, as she always did at family gatherings.
Lovie had been known as a consummate hostess in Charleston back when the family lived on Tradd Street. Cara remembered lurking in the background with Palmer, watching the grand parties her parents had hosted in the old days when waiters dressed in black carried trays weighed down with appetizers and flutes of champagne. She’d watched her mother glide through the rooms, a tiny doll in her pearls and blond hair pulled up in a French twist, chatting with guests, all while keeping a firm eye on the staff. Mama had made the extravagant events that her husband, Stratton Rutledge, demanded appear effortless.
Julia had followed suit for Palmer when she’d stepped into the Rutledge name and house. She’d been every bit as elegant a hostess as Lovie.
But times had changed. Lovie had passed, and Palmer had lost his fortune. Those grand fêtes, even the great house on Tradd Street, were now but memories of the past. Cara caught sight of Linnea leaning toward Gordon as they chatted. She was wearing one of Lovie’s vintage shirtwaist dresses and her double strand of pearls. She reminded Cara so much of her mother it took Cara’s breath away.
Yet she knew that she and Linnea were cut from a different piece of cloth. They both knew the rules of etiquette, but neither of them cared so much about such things as china, silver, and formality. This gathering of family, in a decorated barn festooned with handcrafted art, surrounded by family and friends, was the kind of party they preferred. And on second thought, Cara thought, her mother had too. Hadn’t she fought all through her marriage to keep the beach house and the casual lifestyle she enjoyed here?
Tapping her wineglass with a spoon, Cara signaled she’d like to make a toast. As everyone quieted and gazes turned toward her, she rose, glass in hand.
“Let me start by saying thank you to all who worked so hard to prepare this wonderful feast. And to all you young people who worked so hard to gift us with such a beautiful place in which to eat it!”
“Hear hear!”
“Honestly, I can’t remember stepping foot in this barn since Miranda passed, God bless her soul.”
“To Miranda!”
“And to Flo!” called out Emmi.
“Where is Flo?” asked Linnea. “She should be here too.”
Emmi shook her head. “Oh no, honey. This would be too much for her. She’s eating a plate in her room, happy as a clam. I’ll go check on her after we eat.”
Cara returned to her toast. “Mama… Lovie… would have loved this night. She would’ve basked in the glory of seeing family and friends celebrating what was a favorite holiday of hers. In fact, her last party was a Fourth of July feast much like this one. Many of you were there. Even you, John,” she added with a wry smile. “Though if I recall, you were a handsome young teenage buck and you and your brother breezed through the food line so fast you might not remember.”
Amid the laughter, she heard John call out, “I remember!”
“If there is one lesson I learned from Lovie,” Cara continued, “and there were many, it is that above all, only one thing matters in life. Family. Who your people are, as she used to say. And by that she didn’t mean lineage or exclusivity. Nor wealth or position. But instead, what Lovie meant is what is visible right here in this barn tonight. We’ve weathered a lot since the pandemic began. We’ve been frustrated, upset, and challenged. But we’ve also been brought together in a way none of us could have foreseen. We are weathering yet another storm together, with, if you don’t mind me saying so, compassion, camaraderie, ingenuity, commitment, friendship, yes, fun too. And most of all, love.
“So tonight I raise my glass to all of you wonderfully unique individuals from different parts of the world. You who make up this pod. To our new family.”
Everyone cheered and raised their glasses, calling out “To the family! To the pod!”
“Mama,” Cara said softly, looking up at the sky. “I miss you.”
* * *
LINNEA SIPPED AND looked over her wineglass at her friends and family around the table, eating, drinking, and talking. She couldn’t remember a better party. It may have been her idea, but it wasn’t her success. They’d all worked hard to make the feast special.
Her gaze caught the pinkened skin on the faces from all the sun. The candles were dripping wax in the summer breeze. The flowers in the odd assortment of vases were wilting in the humidity of a Southern night. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and hoped the pending storm would hold off as predicted. Around the room, everyone seemed to be enjoying the night as the fans circulated the air.
She noted that David was deep in conversation with Cooper. He’d told her that David’s drone business was booming in London. Who knew? she wondered. Cooper was studying international business. Maybe a job there was in Cooper’s future.
Beside her, Gordon and Pandora were head-bent in some discussion that had Gordon gesturing with his hands. Linnea smiled, thinking how he got so caught up in his work. He was always eager to share with someone his latest research. He’d found an eager listener in Pandora. Perhaps too eager, she thought, observing how Pandora hung on his every word. Linnea wondered, too, why she didn’t feel all that concerned.
Speaking of flirting, sitting in the rocking chairs in the corner she spied Palmer and Julia leaning close as though to catch every word. If she hadn’t known who they were, she’d have guessed her parents were a couple just hooking up. It made her happy to see them happy.
She looked at Julia, dressed in white jeans and a chic navy-and-white-striped shirt, and didn’t think she’d ever seen her mother more beautiful, or more comfortable in her own skin. Julia’s work at the James house was not only lucrative for her business but had firmly placed her new company on the local stage. Linnea recalled her conversation with Julia last summer. Julia had had little confidence in herself, yet claimed she didn’t want to be known only as someone’s daughter, wife, or mother. Well, Mama, Linnea thought with pride. You did it. You are Julia Rutledge of Rutledge House Interiors. And perhaps, her inner satisfaction was the glow that her father found so attractive.
Her attention was diverted by Emmi as she rang an old school bell.
“Okay y’all! Let’s have dessert!”
* * *
PANDORA, LINNEA, CARA, and Anna were packing up the china and wrapping up the last of the food and dividing it up to go to different homes. John and Gordon were carrying out pots of coffee and tea when Emmi hurried from her house, her face pale with worry.
“Has anyone seen Flo?”
Immediately, all conversation stopped, chairs were pushed back from the table, and everyone started running around the enclave of houses calling out Flo’s name.
“You’re not to blame,” Cara told a frantic Emmi, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “No one is. She’s wandered off before and we’ve always found her. We’ll find her now.”
“She’s not at my place,” Linnea called out, returning at a sprint from the beach house.