The Party that Changed Things

Part 7      4-5-23

 

        Harry Sr was pretty happy. In twenty years of service he’d never been invited to one of the boss’s parties but Mr. Charleymane had scored a big merger & was full of himself, feeling gregarious & invited Harry & Maude. {None of them knew Maude.}

        It was held in his huge dining room – maids & butlers took wraps, waiters in tuxedoes were walking around with champagne on trays, people smartly dressed.

        Harry was in his chauffer’s uniform as he had picked up the boss’s friend & would drive him home. He was standing in front of a partition, leaning on it, relaxing, having a good time with drink in hand hearing a couple matrons in front of him behind huge potted palms, chattering away.

        Suddenly their mood & tone of voice changes, they’re laughing at someone.

        “Oh my God, look at that dress! And the shoes are ghastly! Looks like she robbed a thrift store!”

        one dowager snorted.

        The other one tuned in with,

        “Oh, her. She came up to me before & asked me what Church I belong to!”

        This needed no further explanation, it was a subject none of their society would broach – it gave her away as ‘not of our class’ & they laughed in low tones, trying not to stare, looking around the room to see if anyone else was looking at what to them was a creature.

        Harry’s wife had just walked in! And she did look out of place wearing her favorite Sunday dress, black with huge pink flowers, chunky thick 2” heels with straps in front, pot belly bulging, her hair no style, hanging thick & soft to the bottom of ears – salt & pepper grey, the glasses were ‘coke bottle’ thick, her eyes distorted in them. She was looking around, smiling, looking for someone to chat with.

        Harry wasn’t listening to the women nor looking, he was day dreaming about some day he’d have a house like this or close & hold a party. He was imagining the beautiful guests in his house, himself the star, when suddenly his ears tweaked.

        “Oh, I think she’s the wife of that chauffer guy. He’s not bad, you’d think he’d find someone better than that. She’s a maid, that’s why she looks this way. Maybe Charleymane needs his bathrooms cleaned.”

They laugh at their clever joke & walk away.

Breathing a sigh of relief they had not seen him, Harry quickly sidles up to Maude & in a feigned panic tells her,

“You’re wanted at the Church, they just called my cell. Some kind of emergency, someone collapsed. Grab a cab, I’ll see you later, I’m on call here.”

{Later when he gets home his wife will ask him what was it about – no one there had called. He says it must have been a prank.}

Now he’s rid of his wife but feels ashamed people saw her & knew who she was. How could he live it down? He never thought his wife was substandard, she looked fine. As the years rolled by her beauty faded, she got heavier, her eyes got worse from reading hours every night, she had to wear those glasses all the time, her hair turned grey, but in his mind she remained the pretty, shapely girl he married – the picture on the mantle was forever her.

He was baffled that people could be so cruel – it brought back PTSD from childhood when Dad was dissed, & he, an innocent boy, had to pay for Dad’s misery.

To his delight, no one ever mentioned his wife, like those two dames were the only ones who saw her – “thank you God” he said.

 

The Second Party

A second opportunity came up for party time & this was a game changer.

Helen was now eighteen years old, drop-dead gorgeous & Harry Jr was twenty.

We told you Helen’s tennis game had got perfected & she was making waves with the jet set.

But Harry made his moves too. At fourteen he worked at the Country Club, being a Caddy mostly & the idea was not to learn golf – which he did & got good at it – but to gain social skills, deportment/attitudes of the rich, speech, what they talked about, how they talked – their vocabulary & dress code. Oh yes, there is a dress code! The clothes have to look expensive & be expensive, & although there isn’t an absolute uniform, most of the Greenwich, Ct. people looked comfortable with Ralph Lauren. His tailored double breasted jackets look dashing.

But at age seventeen Harry joined the National Guard, & he remained connected to this service. {This was part time, he spent his other days no longer a caddy but a receptionist at the club, gaining more & more poise like the snobs, a sort of casual disdainful air.}

A Presidential election was coming up – men were chosen {there were like fifty of these, women as well as men} to guard the President & First Lady at the Inauguration Ball, & Harry was chosen as part of the Inner Guard, which meant he was as close to these celebrities as you can get. {Chosen because he was good with all sorts of martial arts & a perfect shot.}

And that is how Harry hit the front pages. He was so handsome in uniform – just like his Dad when he was young – that as he stood watching for malefactors, the big shots noticed Mrs. First Lady glancing at him.

They asked him if he knew how to dance – of course he did, his Dad made sure of that!

“Mr. President – is it alright for Harry to ask the First Lady for a dance?”

was the next question, & he consented.

So there was Harry. And now Harry is dancing with the First Lady of the United States & it hits all the front pages. She looks so beautiful in her white Cinderella dress, while he, the Patriot looking splendid in uniform, & he can dance! Everyone applauds soundly when they are done, & he kisses her hand adroitly – bowing gracefully & barely touching his lips to it!

That was the famous picture we will talk about in future, hanging on the wall of a certain place that will be notable.

 

Now a year after the Maude-to-party fiasco another deal came up – Mr. Charleymane’s

daughter’s engagement party. This time he told Harry to bring his celebrity children. He’d heard of Helen’s tennis & Harry Jr hobnobbing with Presidents & their wives, lol.

And now the scene is set. The usual suspects, all in beautiful attire, champagne flowing, small talk. The average age person there is fifty, conservative people, not sexy or glamorous but stylish, the men grey haired, the women matronly –NOT overweight, & wearing diamonds.

Suddenly the room is hushed. In the doorway the most beautiful couple has entered. She’s six feet tall in her 4” heels, a svelte dark knitted magenta dress flows down her perfect figure, the face like an angel, dark brown hair framing it softly, her eyebrows arched, her makeup toned down movie star quality, a three-tier pearl choker adorns her neck. Her legs are thin & straight yet shapely – Dietrich legs. She carries a tiny dark beaded purse in her hand.

The male is just as striking. Six foot three, white double breasted Ralph Lauren jacket, white shirt & sky blue silk tie, black pants, soft dark hair, those softly arched eyebrows framing the grey-green eyes. His hand in one pants pocket as he looks around for people he knows.

Folks are asking who are they?

And someone says,

“Oh, it’s that tennis champ Helen & her brother Harry, the one who danced with the First Lady.”

Hearing that, one young man breathes a sigh of relief – her brother, not her boyfriend or husband! He plays tennis too – it’s Mr. Charleymane’s son, Ralph. He’s twenty five.

He bounces over to Harry & Helen introducing himself to both {not polite to speak to the lady first when she’s with a male!} & they’re impressed – He’s the son of their Dad’s boss, & not a bad looker, Helen thinks. He’s 6’2” dark blonde hair, hazel eyes, beautifully dressed.

When the young friends see the ice is broken & Mr. Big Shot is hob knobbing with them, they glide over & a party starts. Everyone chats about tennis & Harry’s escapade & what he does as a body guard.

On this night, Ralph & Helen begin their friendship. He asks her for a game, right on their own turf. She agrees & beats him. He’s a bit flustered because he’s good but takes it well as he’s falling in love with her & she seems to like his attention.

He then devises a plan, that on any Saturday Helen is available, he’ll get the tennis playing friends to challenge her. And after the game they will go out to dinner, & there it starts.

He challenges the friends, saying no one can beat her. I’ve mentioned this before. The guys start out with confidence, the females not as confident but willing to test their game & maybe get famous for winning. But no such luck. Each player eats crow, & Ralph is getting more & more puffed up as the lady he now loves is unbeaten & the most beautiful of them all. Wow, Ralph feels like a King.

And Harry Sr sees the writing on the wall. And it spells success. Wealth & prestige are coming closer.

 

From the forthcoming Novel by Rasa Von Werder, ‘Church of Women’ copyrighted 2023, all rights reserved