she stood there awkwardly, clasping the award to her bosom.
I almost felt sorry for her. The Ducote sisters had managed to spike her guns but good.
I was also relieved that she appeared to accept the inevitable. There had been enough unpleasant scenes tonight.
Morty Cassity joined his wife, and Miss An’gel stepped aside. “Thank you all. I know Vera is touched and honored by this gesture.” He frowned, no doubt puzzled by all this, since I was sure it was as much a surprise to him as it was to his wife. “I think this calls for some more of that fine champagne.” He led Vera away, and conversation slowly resumed as the waiters spread through the room dispensing more of the bubbly.
Helen Louise and I looked at each other. “Can you beat that?” I said.
She grinned. “Remind me never to get on Miss An’gel’s bad side. That was absolutely brilliant.”
“You have to hand it to her. She said she and Miss Dickce were going to neutralize Vera, and they did it.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced up to see my daughter, suddenly blond, smiling down at me. “Hi, Dad, Helen Louise. Frank and I ran late, I’m afraid. What did we miss?”
Frank, a husky, bearded young man a few years older than Laura, greeted us. “My fault. Had a student having a postexam meltdown that I had to take care of.” Frank taught lighting and set design at the college.
“We only caught the tail end of it.” Laura sipped her champagne. “Mrs. Cassity looked like a thundercloud when she passed us on the way out of the room.”
I quickly explained, and Frank and Laura shared a glance of amusement.
“Think that will really shut her up?” Frank shook his head. “In my experience nothing except the grave will stop that harpy from meddling in things.”
“After what Miss An’gel just pulled off,” Helen Louise said, “Vera will look like a fool if she doesn’t go quietly.”
“Enough of that,” I said. “Let’s forget about Vera and try to enjoy the party.” I examined my daughter. The fake hair, along with a demure wool dress, gloves, sensible shoes, and cloche hat, reminded me of illustrations from one of my favorite series of children’s books. She also clutched a magnifying glass in one hand. When I matched that with Frank’s getup—gray flannel trousers, white shirt with bow tie, and letterman’s sweater emblazoned with a large
E
—I figured I knew who they were supposed to be.
Helen Louise spoke first, however. “Well, Miss Nancy Drew, how nice to see you with your favorite escort, Ned Nickerson. How are things at Emerson College, Ned?”
Frank laughed. “Peachy keen, ma’am. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t shave tonight.”
“I think Ned looks rather fetching with a beard, don’t you?” Laura’s eyes sparkled with humor as she regarded her boyfriend.
“Definitely,” Helen Louise said.
“Have you seen Sean and Alexandra?” I asked. “I’m curious to see how they’re dressed.”
“They’re here somewhere,” Frank said as he glanced about. He waved. “Here they come now.”
Sean and Alexandra Pendergrast loomed into view, and they made a particularly striking couple. Sean was six-three, and in her heels Alexandra was only a couple of inches shorter. Sean had his hair slicked back in a severe style, and he sported a monocle in his left eye. His Edwardian-style evening wear flattered his muscular figure, and Alexandra’s frock, a straight flapper dress with sheer beaded overdress, complimented his attire nicely.
“Good evening, all. What an absolutely frightful crush.” Sean’s attempt at an aristocratic English accent was excellent. His sister must have coached him.
“I think there’s another actor in the Harris family,” Alexandra said with a fond glance at my son.
Laura grinned. “I know. I’ve been telling Dad that Diesel would be a natural for cat food commercials.”
“So frightfully unamusing, sister dear.” Sean’s tone was frosty, but his eyes
I almost felt sorry for her. The Ducote sisters had managed to spike her guns but good.
I was also relieved that she appeared to accept the inevitable. There had been enough unpleasant scenes tonight.
Morty Cassity joined his wife, and Miss An’gel stepped aside. “Thank you all. I know Vera is touched and honored by this gesture.” He frowned, no doubt puzzled by all this, since I was sure it was as much a surprise to him as it was to his wife. “I think this calls for some more of that fine champagne.” He led Vera away, and conversation slowly resumed as the waiters spread through the room dispensing more of the bubbly.
Helen Louise and I looked at each other. “Can you beat that?” I said.
She grinned. “Remind me never to get on Miss An’gel’s bad side. That was absolutely brilliant.”
“You have to hand it to her. She said she and Miss Dickce were going to neutralize Vera, and they did it.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced up to see my daughter, suddenly blond, smiling down at me. “Hi, Dad, Helen Louise. Frank and I ran late, I’m afraid. What did we miss?”
Frank, a husky, bearded young man a few years older than Laura, greeted us. “My fault. Had a student having a postexam meltdown that I had to take care of.” Frank taught lighting and set design at the college.
“We only caught the tail end of it.” Laura sipped her champagne. “Mrs. Cassity looked like a thundercloud when she passed us on the way out of the room.”
I quickly explained, and Frank and Laura shared a glance of amusement.
“Think that will really shut her up?” Frank shook his head. “In my experience nothing except the grave will stop that harpy from meddling in things.”
“After what Miss An’gel just pulled off,” Helen Louise said, “Vera will look like a fool if she doesn’t go quietly.”
“Enough of that,” I said. “Let’s forget about Vera and try to enjoy the party.” I examined my daughter. The fake hair, along with a demure wool dress, gloves, sensible shoes, and cloche hat, reminded me of illustrations from one of my favorite series of children’s books. She also clutched a magnifying glass in one hand. When I matched that with Frank’s getup—gray flannel trousers, white shirt with bow tie, and letterman’s sweater emblazoned with a large
E
—I figured I knew who they were supposed to be.
Helen Louise spoke first, however. “Well, Miss Nancy Drew, how nice to see you with your favorite escort, Ned Nickerson. How are things at Emerson College, Ned?”
Frank laughed. “Peachy keen, ma’am. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t shave tonight.”
“I think Ned looks rather fetching with a beard, don’t you?” Laura’s eyes sparkled with humor as she regarded her boyfriend.
“Definitely,” Helen Louise said.
“Have you seen Sean and Alexandra?” I asked. “I’m curious to see how they’re dressed.”
“They’re here somewhere,” Frank said as he glanced about. He waved. “Here they come now.”
Sean and Alexandra Pendergrast loomed into view, and they made a particularly striking couple. Sean was six-three, and in her heels Alexandra was only a couple of inches shorter. Sean had his hair slicked back in a severe style, and he sported a monocle in his left eye. His Edwardian-style evening wear flattered his muscular figure, and Alexandra’s frock, a straight flapper dress with sheer beaded overdress, complimented his attire nicely.
“Good evening, all. What an absolutely frightful crush.” Sean’s attempt at an aristocratic English accent was excellent. His sister must have coached him.
“I think there’s another actor in the Harris family,” Alexandra said with a fond glance at my son.
Laura grinned. “I know. I’ve been telling Dad that Diesel would be a natural for cat food commercials.”
“So frightfully unamusing, sister dear.” Sean’s tone was frosty, but his eyes
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