27 #BeigeIsTheNewBrown

July 9, 2017
Sunday

 Randolph Peabody’s home office appeared much as Teddi remembered it from her last visit.  It was… walnut. 

 

The coffered ceiling, trim work, leather sofa and chairs, bookcases, and tables were all done in tones of an old money men’s club.  Even the oil painting over the fireplace carried the theme, since it was a late 1960s depiction of the Massachusetts Governor’s office, when Randolph was in power.

 

There were only sparse bits of color, such that they were.  An antique desk with ivory trim.   The Civil War chess set that shone of polished silver.  One Queen Anne chair upholstered in a muted tapestry.  The minimal hodgepodge of books and whatnots that blended into the woodwork – literally. 

 

At least the carpet’s latticework pattern was more ivory than brown.  Kind of like her linen sheath dress with its taupe belt.

 

Oh God.  My beige is his brown. 

 

Realizing she had something in common with Randolph was distressing enough to have Teddi spinning her meditation ring faster. 

 

“When’s the last time you were here?” Maggie asked, distastefully eyeing the empty room, clearly not any more impressed with it than she was Teddi’s house.   

 

“When Grandmother Peabody died.  They read her will here, too.”  Deidre had practically turned purple when hearing about Teddi’s share of the estate.  The memory still amused her. 

 

“Well, it does look like a lawyer’s office.”

 

“Mhm,” she agreed, placing her handbag on the walnut windowsill to blindly scan the lawn.  The others must have been detained at the cemetery, since the meeting was scheduled for two o’clock – three minutes from now.   “I wonder if I have time for a drink.”

 

Maggie slipped a supportive arm around her waist.  “Nah.  That happy pill you took will be good enough.  You’re stronger than you think.”

 

It had been two “happy pills”, but she didn’t admit to that.  Nor did she mention her plans to wash down another with a large cocktail between here and the airport.  It would serve as both a reward for surviving this ordeal and provide fortitude for the flight home.

 

Home.

 

She loved the security that the house in Rumson represented, but that wasn’t her only reason for being anxious to get there.  Jon’s potential visit was weighing on her mind, and anticipation made her all the more anxious.

 

The call last night hadn’t brought the same bizarre calm as his touch, but there were warm fuzzies that came with his gruff concern.  The fuzzies multiplied when he took her sordid confessions in stride and actually suggested coming over again. 

 

So, while not a true calm, it was soothing enough to stave off nightmares of today.  They took a back seat to steamy dreams about tonight, which she’d been in the midst of when Aunt Midge’s knock woke her.  There had been biting, handcuffs and a very stimulating whisker burn. 

 

“I still can’t believe you won’t tell me who you’re fucking.”

 

Teddi swatted away the nosy hand tugging at her neckline for another glimpse at the fading bite mark.  There would be no accidental sightings today.  She made sure of that with a slathering of makeup that rendered it invisible, and then chose a mandarin collar dress as added insurance.

 

“Nonsense,” she murmured.  “When Truman and I didn’t have children, you assumed for years that I must still be a virgin.  I’ve never talked about my sex life.  Why is it a shock that I still don’t?”

 

“Truman never left love bites, Theodosia.  This man…”  She rubbed arms left bare by an unusually conservative black dress.  “He gives me goosebumps for you.”

 

“Because he has teeth?”

 

There was no laughter at the wry humor.  Maggie was quite serious when countering, “Because you let him use them.  In a place where anyone can see.”

 

More nonsense since Teddi lived in near isolation.  If she’d allowed Pierce to nibble a rendition of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” onto her neck, no one would be the wiser.  

 

“We only see each other a couple of times a year, Magdalene.  For all you know, this is an everyday occurrence.”

 

“It’s not,” came the confident assertion.  “I’m telling you I have a feeling about this.”

 

Teddi’s eyes fell briefly shut to disguise their exasperated roll.  Astonishing how this “feeling” coincided with the first inkling that she wasn’t as boring as everyone thought. 

 

Tori should be choked for encouraging the Bihari cousins to descend, and then disappearing to a dance competition in Florida.  Her only saving grace in this fiasco was securing her mother’s guest rooms for last night.  Aunt Midge and Uncle Warner’s house was far less stressful than the Westin, especially she didn’t have to share a room with the unpredictable Maggie.

 

If she had been forced to deal with a hotel on top of everything else, Teddi would be looking for a good home detox service on Monday.

 

“Well, I think it was a lovely service.”  Aunt Midge’s voice preceded her appearance in the room. 

 

Speaking of services…

 

“The service itself was fine.  I just can’t believe the current Governor didn’t have the good grace to make an appearance.”

 

Deidre’s voice raked Teddi’s nerves like jagged fingernails on a chalkboard.  That was par for the course, since it happened most every time Deidre spoke, and it amplified with shrillness when she was being critical.  Then again, she was always critical.

 

Uncle Warner took up his traditional role as peacemaker by excusing the boorish Governor.  “I’m sure there were extenuating circumstances that prevented it.”

 

“I’m sure,” Deidre derided spitefully. “Just as there were ‘extenuating circumstances’ for our own family.  I’ve never been so embarrassed.  You just know the social column will be speculating about the crassness of it all.”

 

With their backs still to the doorway, Maggie whispered under her breath, “I have a hex that will shrivel the saline in her boob job.  Just say the word.”

 

Maybe having her along wasn’t such a hardship, after all.  Teddi shot Maggie a grateful glance before straightening her spine and turning to face the arriving group.  It was only four so far – Aunt Midge, Uncle Warner, Deidre and Deidre’s only child, Jacqueline. 

 

It’s time to do this.

 

“Deidre, there’s no need to be catty,” Midge scolded.  “Tori’s absence was unavoidable.  That dance competition was scheduled months ago.”

 

“I wasn’t speaking of Victoria,” Glacial eyes connected meaningfully with Teddi’s.  “Nice of you to join us, Theodosia.”

 

As though I was given a choice.

 

“Hello, Deidre.” She greeted her half-sister shortly but managed a bit more warmth for her daughter, who had blossomed into a beautiful woman in the decade since Teddi last saw her.  “Jacqueline, you look lovely.”

 

“Thank you, Aunt Theodosia.” The recent college graduate accepted the compliment with a sweet smile. 

 

Although she shared the Peabody blue eyes, she had her father’s dark hair.  One could only hope she also inherited the pleasant personality that made him incompatible with Deidre.  It was only the unexpectedness of his daughter’s conception that prompted him to do the “right thing” by marrying Deidre.  It was only for Jacqueline’s sake that he endured the union until the day after her eighteenth birthday.  He deserved a medal for it, in Teddi’s opinion.

 

Deidre’s tossed handbag hit the sofa cushion with a dramatic thud, as the remaining greetings were exchanged.  She turned in a slow circle, surveying the room with a delicate frown that didn’t budge her Botoxed forehead. 

 

“I cannot wait to get rid of this atrocious wood.  My designer has plans for a complete Scandinavian makeover.  The white and cool grey will allow the room to finally breathe.”

 

Scandinavian design didn’t appeal to Teddi, but it was perfectly suited to Deidre’s coldness.  

 

“Was Endicott delayed?” she asked Midge, who settled into the Queen Anne chair. 

 

“Yes.  He had to drop Muffy and the children at home.  Poor dear had a migraine.”

 

“I’d have a migraine, too.” 

 

Maggie’s muttering drew a chastising glance from Teddi, who dutifully expressed remorse for Muffy’s ailment before inquiring after the family lawyer. “And what about Whitfield?  I hope he won’t be too late.  My flight leaves at five.”

 

“We want you out of here as badly as you want to be gone.”

 

Deidre’s snide remark went largely without reaction.  Jacqueline continued to scroll through her phone from a corner chair, Midge freshened up her lipstick, and Teddi’s ring spun in a continuous loop while she watched Warner calmly wipe his glasses.

 

Everyone was used to Deidre being a bitch.  It was as common as sunrise and sunset in this house, but since this was Maggie’s first visit, she didn’t know it was part of the usual atmosphere.   

 

“Watch your mouth.”  With golden eyes blazing, she was reach to over and re-deliver the harsh command at close range if Teddi hadn’t latched onto her wrist.

 

“Ignore her,” she instructed under her breath, but it was too late.

 

Narrowed eyes cut their way, and Deidre’s sharp focus was reminiscent of a hawk evaluating its prey.  “Who are you?”

 

Midge tucked her lipstick away with a quiet chirrup.  “You remember Magdalene, dear.  From the wedding.  She’s part of Theodosia’s other family.”

 

Teddi and Truman’s wedding was, unfortunately, one of the more traumatic events in Teddi’s life.  She’d swallowed enough pills and champagne before, during and after to make the memories hazy, but they were impossible to repress.  God knew she’d tried.   

 

Placing herself in the center of attention was not on her list of favorite things to do, so she had planned something simple and without guests.  Grandmother had balked, declaring that Peabodys did not marry in secret; Peabodys had proper weddings.

 

The best Teddi could negotiate was an “intimate ceremony” with a guest list of five hundred, because any less would be “simply rude” to friends and acquaintances.  Her tactful defense was to point out that excluding half of her family was equally rude.  She’d thought it would make Grandmother reconsider the whole dog and pony show. 

 

She was wrong. 

 

That was how the Biharis came to rank among the most memorable guests in the history of Boston’s Four Seasons hotel. 

 

“You’re the one who shattered the good crystal in the fireplace,” Deidre accused.  “My great-grandmother’s heirloom crystal.”

 

Decades later, and those words still had the power to inflate Teddi’s anxiety like a massive hot air balloon. 

 

“No, the plates were me.  Crystal was my sister, Cat.”

 

“Whatever.  You’re still one of those… Gypsies.  What are you doing in my house?”

 

“Now, Deidre,” came Uncle Warner’s stern caution.  “The house isn’t yours yet, and Maggie is here as Theodosia’s guest.”

 

“Ownership is a technicality and completely irrelevant.  My father never would’ve stood for one of them in his home, and you know it.  He barely tolerated the half-breed cretin and only because of Grandmother.”

 

“Now listen, lady.”  Maggie strode up to stick a fearless finger in Deidre’s face.  “That so-called ‘half-breed’ has more class in her pinky than you do in your whole damn family tree.  No offense, Warner and Midge.  You’re lovely people.”

 

“None taken, dear.”

 

Teddi barely heard Midge’s unbothered assertion.  Warm blood had mystically turned to ice water in her veins and was rushing loudly enough to rival Niagara Falls.  She’d known coming here was a horrible idea.  She should’ve done precisely what Jon suggested and told them go fuck themselves. 

 

Wouldn’t that cause a tizzy?

 

No worse than the current one, which had Teddi abandoning the meditation ring in favor of clutching her lavender-soaked pendant.  She closed her eyes and mentally tried to place herself in a field of the pale purple flowers rather than here.  Here, where Maggie was continuing to play savior. 

 

“Your father is the one who made Teddi come here, Ms. Snooty.  Either show her some respect or stick a sock in it and suffer quietly.   Show a little dignity, for Christ’s sake.”

 

Teddi barked out a laugh, and even to her ears, it was sharp and a bit hysterical.  Heaven only knew what it sounded like to the family members who gaped her way, but Maggie was giving etiquette lessons to Deidre.  Anyone should find that funny.

 

“Oh, sweet Jesus.”  The sigh from the doorway was only slightly louder than Teddi’s continued chuckle.  “You finally drove her off the deep end I see, Deidre.”

 

“I didn’t do anything, Endicott.  She started that idiotic laughter because of this… this person’s verbal assault on me.” 

 

Teddi’s nephew/half-brother didn’t appear to care as he strode to the desk and commandeered the walnut leather chair.  Leaning to one side, he delved inside the deep bottom drawer to extract a decanter and accompanying glass.

 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he declared with boredom as bourbon splashed into cut crystal.  “Whitfield was turning into the driveway as I pulled up, so keep your claws retracted for thirty goddamn minutes.  Can you do that, please?”

 

Deidre tossed back hair that was several shades lighter than Teddi’s and released an indignant huff.  “I don’t know why I should.”

 

Endicott’s Peabody blue eyes were icier than his sister’s when glaring over the glass rim at her. “She has to appear lucid long enough for me to get my inheritance.  After that, torture her however you want.  Commit her to a state facility, force feed her an overdose of those damn pills or drown her in gin.  I don’t give a flying fuck.”

 

Maggie – sweet, slightly crazy, protective Maggie – looked back and forth between the bickering siblings with her mouth agape.  They hadn’t acted this way when she met them all those years ago, but weddings were considered public appearances.  They would never be so gauche as to display their real personalities. 

 

Now that she was witnessing their true natures, the poor woman looked as though she couldn’t quite understand what was happening.    

 

How could she be expected to?

 

The Biharis were a traditional family who exemplified mutual respect, support and love.  The Peabodys shared nothing but a vein of cold blue blood that chilled Teddi from the inside. Endicott’s bourbon would chase away the chill, and just as she contemplated taking it from him, a flustered Whitfield shuffled into the room. 

 

“Sorry to keep you all waiting.  Are we ready to get down to business?”