Chapter 8

            A week and a half later . . .

            It was the fourth of July and the Van Dykes were hosting a cook out this year. Family and friends were invited. Close to a hundred and fifty people had been extended an invitation. It appeared close to a hundred and twenty had shown up. The party took place in the gardens.

            “It looks like a good turnout,” Catherine commented.

            “It does, indeed,” Chelsea said as she smiled proudly – in a different direction.

            “What are you looking at?” Catherine said as she followed her sister’s gaze.

            “Over there – at Chastity.”

            Catherine found her other sister who was – surrounded by at least five men. They were George Nelson, Malcolm J. Donahue, Hannibal Dandridge, Lucius Brown, and Vernest Fitzgerald. “Good, Lord. I’ve never seen Chastity surrounded by men like that. You? Yes, but not Chastity.”

            “I know,” Chelsea beamed with glee. “I got to talk to a few of our male guests – single male guests before the party. I put a bug in their ear about Chastity not seeing Ernest anymore.”

            “You what,” Catherine hissed. “You know Chastity is becoming a nun in January.”

            “That’s exactly why I’m trying to help her meet a man,” Chelsea said flatly and took a sip from her cup. It smelled like beer.

            “Does she know that?” Catherine asked as she put her hands on her hips.

            “No, but Mother does. She gave me her blessing.”

            “I’m sure she did,” Catherine said sarcastically. “If Chastity wants a man, she would have never broken it off with Ernest and took her first vows to become a nun.”

Chelsea scoffed. “Ernest is nice, but he wasn’t enough man for Chastity. She needs someone who can stand up to her. A man who she can’t wrap around her finger all the time and boss around. What will really get her heart pumping and her motor moist is what Daddy would call a man’s man.”

“Chastity is going to be mad once –”

            “No, she isn’t especially if you don’t tell her.”

            “But –”

            “Look at her. She’s having a splendid time talking to them.”

            Catherine looked back over.

            Chastity nodded politely at Vernest and smiled a little.

            Catherine grunted. “I think Vernest is too old for her.”

            “He just went through his second divorce. Prime for the picking and he’s rich.”

            “He’s also forty-nine. He has a daughter her age.”

            “Yes, but he’s still young enough to produce more children for Chastity.”

            “Ugh, god,” Catherine groaned.

            “Oh, darling,” Derek sang between a tight smile as he quickly approached. “Why was he invited here?”

            “Who?” Chelsea asked, confused.

            “Don’t act innocent with me. You know who I’m talking about. Georgie porgy puddin’ and pie,” Derek sang in a feminine tone with deep resentment.

            Catherine’s eyes widened. When Derek and Chelsea were separated, Chelsea had started seeing George romantically. Derek and George had even gotten into a physical altercation at a club because of it.

            “Oooh,” Chelsea said realizing why her husband’s eyes were turning red. “I asked him to come for Chastity not me.”

            Derek’s defensive posture suddenly turned into complete confoundedness. “For Chastity?”

            “Yes. Mother and I . . . just want to be sure that becoming a nun is what Chastity wants. Therefore, setting up scenarios for her to meet nice men,” Chelsea explained in a whisper.

            Derek burst out laughing. When his laughter finally subsided, he said, “If she ends up with him it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. Hell, I’ll even pay for their wedding.” He laughed heartily again as he strolled off.

                                                                                   ****

            Normally, Julian would go out of town for the fourth of July. But since this was Alexander’s first fourth of July as a married man, he had asked Julian and the rest of the family to join him and Caitlin and the Van Dykes for the holiday.

Victoria Van Dyke was proud of her garden, and it was one of the best ones Julian had seen for the exception of the Browns’ garden. Two chefs were manning the grills. Side dishes that needed to be kept cold was on ice. The desserts were plentiful. And the kids and their parents were at the pool.

Julian strolled along a path while nibbling on a hot dog. He came upon a shocking sight. Chastity was sitting on a stone outdoor bench, holding a plate with at least eight guys around her. He couldn’t help but stop and look. It was like she was Scarlet O’Hara with a dozen beaus waiting to do her bidding. The only difference was Chastity was blonde and instead of smiling like a Southern Bell she was plain faced. Her expression unreadable.

Well, for their sakes I’m glad she isn’t scowling at them like she does at me most of the time.

Except for the night of the Broadway play. Her smile that night could make a man’s heart stop – if he was attracted to her. He would have gone over to say hello, but it looked like she was fighting for oxygen as it was. Julian just shrugged and figured he could say hello later. The day was still young. He bit into his hot dog with chili and mustard and moved on.

                                                                                  ****

            The macaroni salad, cheeseburger, and baked beans were tasty. Unfortunately, Chastity hadn’t been able to really enjoy the food. She had been surrounded by one man or more since the party started. She couldn’t even go to the bathroom in peace.

            She had excused herself from three men who were talking to her about financing to use the washroom. When she had come back outside, there were those three and two others waiting for her outside of the sunroom door to the outside.

            Icabod had nearly crashed into Lewis and James when he brought Chastity her dessert.

            “Thank you,” she said as she took the plate and napkin.

            “You’re welcome.” Icabod said grinning, all teeth and nothing but teeth. He was as skinny as a light pole. Ernest was slim but not as slim as Icabod. Chastity had half a mind to ask him if he wanted her piece of cake because he looked so under nourished.

            “That is a becoming dress you have on, Chastity,” Malcolm commented.

            “Thank you.” Chastity wore a yellow sundress that came slightly above her knees and buttoned in the front. She also had on white sandal flats. Her hair was in a French braid. Constance had done it for her. “Now, where were we?”

            “Foreign languages,” George Nelson reminded her. She actually liked George. She would have preferred him marrying Chelsea instead of her marrying the sexually, depraved ass she had married. George was intelligent, going to school for his PhD in archeology, mature for his age, and an all-around great man. He wasn’t from money. Just a middle-class boy from a middle-class world, but Chastity found that she liked that about him. That’s what made him so down to earth and friendly - truly charming in a sincere way. “You were telling us that you’ve been learning Italian for the past year.” Chastity had taken a Spanish class with George when they had attended Columbia.

            Chastity had learned Italian so she could understand Pope Leo XIV when he made an address. Her hope, one day, was to be assigned in The Vatican for a while after she officially becomes a nun. “Yes. It really is a beautiful language.”

            “Say something in Italina for us, darling,” Vernest asked with sparkling brown eyes. He was a porkish man. He had a pot belly.

            Chastity gave him a small smile and said, “You’re a pork of a man, you’re breath smells like pastrami, you’re teeth are yellow, but you have nice brown eyes.”

            “That sounded . . . wow,” Tommy stuttered, impressed.

            “That did sound good. What’d you say, darling,” Vernest asked like he was sitting on the edge of his seat.

            “Well,” she began sheepishly. “I said that you have a nice smelling cologne and lovely eyes.”

            Vernest grinned like there was no tomorrow.

            “You little liar,” George said in Italina.

            Her eyes widened at him.

            George smirked and then winked at her.

            She couldn’t help but smile back at him.

            “Hey, no flirting in another language, buddy,” Malcolm said to George. “Not fair to the rest of us. I took Latin in school.”

            “Really?” Chastity said with intrigue. Some parts of Catholic ceremonies in Rome were spoken in Latin.

            “Yes,” Malcome replied proudly.

            “Well, please. You have the floor. Say something in Latin for us,” Chastity requested.

            Malcolm smiled. He had wonderful teeth. He was what people called a mixed race. His father was African American and his mother was Caucasian.  “All right.” He began impressing her with his master of the language.

                                                                                 ****

            Alexander and Julian walked to the long dessert table. Alex was wearing jean shorts and a dark blue T-shirt. Julian wore a white polo shirt and black shorts.

            “This is a great cookout, isn’t it?” Alexander asked as they both looked over the desserts.

            “It sure is,” Julian said slowly as a memory triggered in his mind as he looked over the pies. “Alexander, do you remember Aunt Ester’s fourth of July party when we were kids?”

            “Aunt Ester had a lot of fourth of July cookouts back then,” Alexander said as he picked up a plate that had a chocolate cake on it.

            “This particular one you were sixteen and I was nine – and you slammed a strawberry cream pie right in my face,” Julian said as evenly as possible, acting like he was looking at the rest of the desserts. But he was really eyeing the lemon meringue pie that was right next to his hand. He slowly eased his fingers under it.

            “Oh, yeah,” Alexander chuckled out. “I got you right in the kisser. I forgot all about that.”

            “Yeah? Well I didn’t,” Julian said and quickly hurled the pie Alexander’s way.

            Alexander ducked.

            The pie flew right towards Chastity’s face. She let out a shriek on impact.

            The Beaumont brothers’ mouths dropped open, and their eyes widened as someone laughed hysterically.

            It was Derek Dawson. He had literally fallen on the ground laughing.

            Two guys were on each side of Chastity looked as shocked as the Beaumonts were.

            “Ugh,” Chastity cried as she took her fingers and raked her eyes of the pie. She rang her hands to dispose excess of the dessert from her fingers. She stared daggers at Julian.

            “Sorry,” Julain mouthed. And he meant it. He had hoped after the night with the Italians they could actually be friendly acquaintances, but the way she was looking at him now . . .

            Fat chance.

            Derek was still laughing as Chastity strode towards the mansion in a serious huff. At least twenty people had witnessed the whole thing plus the staff.

            Chelsea jogged after her twin.

            Julian shoved Alexander in his chest. “You see what you made me do!”

            “Me? You’re the one who was trying to settle old childhood scores,” Alexander said. “It’s a good thing that night out with the Italians is over and done with. She wouldn’t do you a favor now no matter how much money you donate to . . . her favorite charity.”

            Julian exhaled with regret.

           

                                                                                     ****

            “No, she’s fine,” Chelsea said over her cell as Chastity came out the bathroom. She had to give her face a good cleansing.

            Chastity also had to change her dress. She walked to the closet in her full white slip.

            “All right, I’ll tell her. See you down there.” Chelsea clicked off. “Why in the world are you wearing a slip?”

            “Cause I usually do.”

            “Ugh, you are too old fashioned for words. Anyway, that was Caitlin. She said Julian truly did not mean to hit you with the pie. He was aiming for Alexander. He ducked and . . . you got it instead.”

            “And why would he hit his own brother with a pie?” Chastity asked as she pulled out a lightweight fabric dress. It had white and dark blue printed flowers on it.

            “Alexander had hit him in the face with a pie when he was nine. He was just trying to get back at him,” Chelsea said with a shrug as Chastity emerged from the closet. “He really is sorry, Chaz.”

            “Not as sorry as I am. That was my favorite sundress,” Chasity said with resentment. She unzipped the dress in the back and stepped in it. “It’s probably ruined. I doubt the maid can get it cleaned.”

            “I’m sure a dry cleaner can.” Chelsea stood. She zipped Chastity’s dress up in the back. “Other than this, how have you been enjoying the party?”

            “For the most part I guess I was having a good time. But I don’t understand why so many men are flocking around me. They’ve never done that before.”

            “Well, you do look particularly radiant today. Perhaps it’s because you’re not longer carrying the burden of your Catholic secret.”

            “Hmm. Perhaps. I have felt a sense of freedom since I’ve told all of you.”

            “Good. Now let’s go. I think Julian wants to apologize to you properly.”

            “Forget it. Tell him if he is truly sorry then stay away from me,” Chastity said evenly.

            “I guess you need some time.”

            “I guess.”

            “But remember forgiveness is next to Godliness,” Chelsea said. “Are you coming?”

            “In a minute. I have to make a quick phone call.”

            Chelsea nodded. She left closing the door behind her.

            Chastity picked up her cell from the dresser.

            So you want to play games, Mr. Beaumont? I can play with the best of them.