Prohibition

Chapter 13

The day before Christmas Eve, Evelyn called Raymond and hesitantly invited him to dinner Christmas night. Eagerly, Raymond agreed. Now he had a golden opportunity to present Evelyn with her gift! When he had delivered the bottles of Highland Queen, Helen had assured him Evelyn would love it. He hoped so. If she didn't, he didn't know what he would do. Hopefully Tiffany's had a return policy. 

***

Raymond spent Christmas morning with his parents. Driving back to New York City through the gathering dusk, Raymond felt his nervousness and anticipation rise. Helen would be at the Christmas dinner too, he reminded himself over and over again as he navigated through the unusually deserted streets. She had promised him that too the day he had delivered her liquor. If everything went wrong, at least he would have her to fall back on.

As he parked his car in front of the Collins' mansion and walked up the steps to the front door, Raymond anxiously adjusted his tie and jacket. Though the air outside was frosty, he was already sweating profusely. Calm down, he chided himself, ringing he doorbell. It's just a party. Nothing will go wrong. He hoped.

Then the door opened and his mind went blank. Evelyn stood before him. "Hello," she said, smiling.

"Hello," Raymond stammered, staring openmouthed at her. Tonight, she was clad in an elegant, flowing dress of deep pine-green velvet. Diamond teardrops sparkled at her ears, and, around her throat, slim strands of diamonds were wrapped. In the brilliant light of the thousand-candled Christmas tree that dominated the front hall, the clear gems flashed with white fire. As Evelyn turned to close the door, Raymond saw that what he had thought was a diamond choker was actually a much longer necklace, clasped at the nape of her neck and cascading down her back to accentuate the plunging back of her dress and the daring amount of creamy skin it exposed. He swallowed hard. God, she was beautiful.

"How was your Christmas?" Evelyn asked, facing Raymond once more.

"Good," Raymond replied, feeling as if his answer was the most boring and mundane one in the world. "I spent the day with my parents."

"So did I," Evelyn told him. "Well, with my father, anyway. Mother left a long time ago."

"Really?" Raymond asked, surprised. "I thought she was dead."

"No, she left," Evelyn sighed. "I was twelve then. She and my French tutor ran off together."

"Why?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to talk about it," Evelyn said tightly. "Anyway," she continued, shaking her head as if to brush away all her bad memories, "Come into the sitting room. Dad and Helen are both in there."

"There's a lot more people than 'Dad' and Helen in here," Raymond muttered as Raymond opened the sitting room door. All around the room, groups of people were clustered, talking.

"We invited a lot of people," Evelyn laughed, taking his arm. "Come on. I'll introduce you to the ones you don't know."

In one corner of the room, Helen was resplendent in a beaded plum-colored gown with ropes of gold and purple beads draped around her neck. Standing beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist, was Roy, his suit slightly rumpled. The two of them were chatting with a brown-haired young man who Raymond recognized as Paul Kinney, son of Harold Kinney, the owner of the hugely prosperous Kinney Petroleum Company. In another corner of the room, three white-haired men were talking with an imposing dark-haired man. Clustered near them, several other youths whom Raymond identified as the sons and daughters of New York City's most elite stood laughing and chatting. Lurking beside them, several sumptuously dressed matrons stood, their hawk-like eyes watching the young men and women closely.