Stella

“You said that already. Earlier.” She couldn’t help but smile at him. He was wearing a full tuxedo with tails, much like he wore the night she’d attended dinner in the First Class dining hall with him, and she bit her bottom lip in an attempt to fight back the urge to kiss him right there in front of the hundred or so guests Grace had eventually whittled the list down to.
“It isn’t so bad, is it?” he asked, stepping close to her so that his breath was in her ear.
“Not so far,” she admitted. Kelly had been by her side for much of the event, though now she was across the room with Daniel speaking to a couple Meg had met but couldn’t remember. She’d been introduced to so many people that night, it wouldn’t be possible for her to keep them all straight.
“Maurice certainly did lovely work completing that gown so quickly.”
Meg glanced down at the rose colored dress she wore. Grace had insisted the gown be the same color as the flowers and the rest of the décor, though she had no idea why she’d insisted on pink, which seemed more like a color for an announcement of a new baby than an engagement. “I think so. It is a bit tighter than I’d like.”
“That’s what happens when your soon-to-be sister-in-law insists you don’t breathe while you’re being measured,” he reminded her.
She could only shake her head. If Charlie hadn’t been there, the dress would likely be even tighter. “Have you any idea why we are all to gather in the garden after dinner?”
“I haven’t the foggiest why they picked the garden, but I believe that is where I am to formally ask you to be my wife,” he explained. “I am glad that the photographs will be taken inside at least.”
“Well, assuming it’s quite dark outside, I suppose they’d have to be. It’s not as if they have a way of sufficiently lighting a photograph at night. Flash bulbs can only do so much.”
“Wouldn’t it be extraordinary if they could?”
She knew she’d lost him for a moment as he pondered an impossibility, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Is there anything you don’t want to invent?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Anything you can think of, I shall make it happen.”
“Hmmm,” she accepted the challenge, “what about a telephone that allowed you to actually see the person you were talking to? You could just peer into it and see into their home? Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Can you even imagine?” Charlie asked, shaking his head. “Or books that moved like nickelodeons that you could hold in your hand?”
“What’s this now? Are you imagining the future in your head again, old boy?”
Meg looked up to see a tall, handsome man with blond hair she was fairly certain she’d not yet met. A woman with short, curly, brown hair stood behind him, a slightly annoyed, half amused look on her face.
“Quincy Cartwright!” Charlie exclaimed, embracing the man and clapping him on the back several times. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since the wedding.” With those words, he glanced back at the woman standing behind Mr. Cartwright, and Meg noticed a shift in Charlie’s expression. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t like it. It was gone almost as quickly as it came. “Stella. How are you?”
Charlie hadn’t stepped in her direction, but the woman threw one arm around his neck; the other held a drink, which she thrust out in an attempt not to spill and almost hit Meg in the face with it. “Charlie, darling! It’s lovely to see you.” She had an audacious look about her, and Meg instantly knew she did not like this person.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Stella,” he remarked. He placed his hand on her back, but Meg noticed it seemed as if he were touching something fragile, like spun sugar, and he didn’t seem to want to apply any pressure lest she break. Either that or he simply didn’t want to touch her at all.
Once the woman, who was wearing an elegant black gown and a ring on her finger with a stone larger than the ones in Meg’s earrings, stepped back, Charlie said, “Quincy, Stella, this is Meg.”
“It’s lovely to finally meet you,” Quincy said, taking the hand Meg offered and pressing it to his lips.
“Thank you,” Meg said with a polite nod.
“Yes, it is lovely to finally meet you,” Stella agreed, taking a sip from her glass. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure this day would ever come.”
Meg laughed nervously, not sure what to say since she had no idea who these people were or what she may be implying.
“It’s been a tumultuous journey, but I assure you, Meg and I are together for the long haul now,” Charlie spoke up.
“This fellow used to smile for weeks after getting a letter from you,” Quincy offered, punching Charlie lightly in the arm.
“Is that so?” Meg asked, smiling at the playfulness.
“When he got a letter from you.” Stella’s mumble was just barely audible, but Meg caught it.
“We went to Cambridge together,” Charlie explained. “And Stella’s brother, Ralph, and I went to high school together. Where is Ralph? Is he here?” Charlie looked around the room as if he might have overlooked him.
“No, he’s out of town on business,” Stella explained. “I believe it’s London this week.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Charlie said.
“So you’ve known each other since high school?” Meg asked, still trying to figure out what she was missing.
“Charlie and I know each other very well,” Stella said, looking Meg directly in the eye.
Meg glanced at Charlie and could see he looked quite uncomfortable. Quincy leaned in toward Stella’s ear and whispered, “Darling, please, take it easy on the gin and tonics, won’t you?” He looked back at Meg and laughed nervously, and she could sense the tension between the couple.
“How long have you been married?” Meg asked, trying to make conversation.
“It will be two years next week,” Quincy said through gritted teeth.
“Is that so?” Charlie asked. “I don’t suppose I realized it had been that long.”
“One year, eleven months, three weeks, and five days, to be precise,” Stella said, and Meg could see for certain in the way she turned to face Charlie that she had already drank too much.
“Stella always was good with numbers,” Charlie laughed, clearly trying to clear the tension between them. “She studied chemistry at Cambridge.”
“You don’t say?” Meg asked, turning back to Stella for one more try at cordiality. “That’s quite impressive.”
“Yes, I was one of the first women to graduate with a degree from Cambridge,” she nodded. “And now I live in a fancy house on Twelfth Street, spending my days making sure my husband’s home is in order and spending my nights fulfilling his every need.”
“You’ll have to excuse my wife,” Quincy said, putting his arm around Stella and pulling her back away from Meg a bit. “I’m afraid she’s had a bit too much to drink this evening.”
“You don’t need to apologize for me, Quincy. I’m not drunk,” Stella said, her jaw set tightly.
“I believe you might be,” Quincy said, a fake smile still plastered on his handsome face. Meg took a step toward Charlie, who put his arm around her in reassurance.
“No, I’m not,” Stella insisted. “You know, Mary Margaret,” she continued, stepping around her husband, “if I had been a wagering woman, Charlie would be even richer today. I would’ve bet anything you’d never have shown up. In fact, I’m still not completely convinced you’ll actually get married.”
“Stella….”
“No, let me finish, Quincy. Do you have any idea what you did to this man for so many years? It really is a shame.” Her voice was low, despite her accusations, but a few people standing nearby turned to look.
“Stella, I think it might be best if you go outside with Quincy and get some fresh air,” Charlie recommended.
“Wait,” Stella insisted, pulling away from her husband, who was tugging on her arm.
“It’s all right,” Meg said quietly. “Let her finish. She’s certainly got a valid point.”
Stella’s eyes widened. “You think so?” she asked, as if she was surprised to hear Meg’s admonition.
“Yes, of course,” Meg agreed. “I absolutely treated Charlie terribly before I met him in person. I will certainly acknowledge that.”
“Meg, really, that’s not necessary.” Charlie looked more uncomfortable now than he had the entire time they’d been home.
“Good.” Stella nodded her head and finished her drink. “Good. I’m glad you admit that. And… you’d better be sure it doesn’t happen again. He has friends you know, lots of them, and we’ll take up for him.”
“I see that,” Meg nodded. “I’m glad to have the opportunity to meet the people Charlie holds so dear.”
Stella laughed, loudly, which drew more eyes. “You haven’t any idea.” She was shaking her head, her brown curls dancing about. “You haven’t any idea.”
“Stella!” Quincy had her by the arm again and this time he was pulling hard enough that she had no choice but to retreat.
Before she disappeared into the crowd, she shouted, “I’ll see you soon, Charlie,” and winked at him in a way Meg couldn’t quite decipher.