Part 4
Marykate and Marilee were in Saks, having already rejected everything in
Neiman’s and Bergdorf’s. A couple came close, but they just weren’t quite right;
the color was off or the fabric didn’t have the right drape or the last one
she’s tried on, the Wedgwood blue halter was lovely but the bust was all wrong
and the back gathers were impossible. The dress had to be perfect, had to show
her off to the best possible advantage, turn heads and make jaws drop. It must.
Maybe, hopefully they would finally find something suitable here. The Gala over
at Wayne Manor was on Saturday at six-thirty and this was Wednesday afternoon.
They had to settle on something maybe have it fitted, get shoes, make sure that
Marilee had the right jewelry, get her hair and makeup done (she’d have to skip
the football game that day to have time)…but first they needed a dress. It all
hung on that.
The saleslady, the department manager was starting to get a little snippy,
too—thinking that they were just lookers and weren’t going to buy anything, that
they were wasting her time. On the other hand, Marykate’s temper was threatening
to get short if the bitch didn’t come up with something decent, perfect and in
Marilee’s size in the next few minutes.
The woman finally came out of the back room holding a full-length garment bag
high enough that it was off the floor. ‘Vera Wang’ was embossed on the front in
gold. Hanging it on a rack she started to unzip the bag, “This just came in this
morning, it’s an exclusive—we have the only one in the city and I think it look
would absolutely lovely on the young lady.” She pulled the dress out of the bag
and spread it over a chair, the colored silk flowing like the proverbial cloud
as it settled.
Neither of the Richard’s women said anything, but the glance they exchanged was
telling. The saleswoman knew she’d struck gold this time. Marilee went into the
large dressing room with the woman, emerging five minutes later.
It fit Marilee perfectly, not a single adjustment would have to be made, they
could take it with them today.
Strapless with a modified sweetheart neckline, modest enough but not even
remotely matronly, the empire waist floated to a full A-line, the smooth skirt
heavily embroidered with lace flowers up to the knees in the exact color of the
dress, a warm, rich shade of clotted cream. The entire dress was then sheathed
in a gossamer single layer of the finest silk tulle in the same tone as the
under skirt and bodice. It was clearly designed as a wedding dress but without a
veil or the usual pearls it would serve its purpose at the Manor, looking like a
debutante gown. It was feminine, refined, sophisticated with just enough hint of
sex to make sure Marilee kept attention focused on her without being obvious.
And it was close enough to white to suggest innocence; something which wouldn’t
be lost in the society crowd that would surround her all evening—unless she
managed to slip away with the Grayson boy.
She could wear Marykate’s anniversary necklace, the five-carat diamond hanging
from a diamond chain and fitting closely to her throat. The fifteen-carat tennis
bracelet would work on one wrist. Simple, elegant. Her hair would be arranged
up, showing off her long neck, they’d find matching shoes downstairs.
This was it. This was the dress.
“Mom?”
“Dear?”
No one would think she was a high school senior. No one would think she was just
some girl riding her parent’s coattails. She looked like someone.
“It’s a wedding dress.”
The answer was serene and considered. “No one has to know what it was designed
for. It’s a lovely dress and it looks like it was made for you, that’s what
matters.”
“Mom, it’s ten thousand dollars.”
“Do you like it, sweetheart?”
“Of course I love it, it’s beautiful, but Mom, Dad will have a heart attack…”
She handed the saleswoman her credit card. “We’ll take it, thank you.”
“Now, you’ll need a long line strapless bra, we have jewelry and we’ll get
shoes—does Vera make them to match?”
The saleswoman smiled as she mentally calculated her commission, “Yes, and our
shoe department carries them, Mrs. Richards. Just ask—I mean I’ll go down with
you and we’ll have the dress with us so there won’t be any problem matching the
color.”
“Good.”
* * *
Bob Richards pulled the Mercedes up to the main door of Wayne Manor, thousands
of tiny lights were strung through the trees, the musicians were playing and
people were slowly walking up the stone stairs as though arriving at Buckingham
Palace. Handing the keys to the parking attendant, Bob escorted Marykate and
Marilee inside.
Bruce and the charity’s directors were standing there, welcoming the attendees,
knowing most by name and faking it with the rest. He gave the Richard’s a subtle
but thorough once over as he leaned in to kissed Marykate’s cheek and shake
Bob’s hand. “I was so pleased when I heard you could make it tonight—it always a
treat for me when everyone can come, far too many old fogies at these things!
Marykate, that’s one of Karl’s things from last month’s show, isn’t it? I swear,
only you could do it justice, and am I wrong or is that a Vera—Marilee, isn’t
it? I know Dick is looking for you—just waiting for you to get here; I think I
saw him talking with someone out in the garden a few minutes ago. Alfred?
Alfred, please see to it that Miss Richards finds Dick, will you? That’s a good
fellow. Bob, good to see you again, call me for golf next week, will you? It’s a
date.”
They were passed along to the charity people, the research doctor being honored
and his wife then they were on their own.
Wayne was vapid as usual, but the man was richer than Midas and he knew how to
throw a party and there was no denying it.
It was a beautiful night, clear and warm so the guests could wander through the
grounds close to the house. Tables were set up by the main pool and waiters
circulated with appetizers and champagne.
“Master Richard? I believe you were asking to be informed when Miss Richards
arrived.”
Dick was making small talk with a couple of the better preserved matrons who
elbowed one another when the ‘pretty little darling’ lowered her eyes as they
were introduced. Clearly there would be gossip about them at the tearooms in
town tomorrow.
Smiling and taking her arm, he led her down to the pool, candles floating and
masses of flowers everywhere. The waiters made a pass by them, offering
champagne and wine, but Marilee and Dick both opted for simple soda, knowing
there were far too many eyes on them and this was neither the time nor the place
for anything the had even the smallest hint of impropriety.
“You look beautiful, better than anyone else here.” He kissed her cheek, hoping
that they were far enough away from the growing crowd to have been unobserved.
“You look pretty good, yourself.” He was in that new tux Alfred had insisted be
ordered from Sexton’s over on Beauchamp when they were all there during
Christmas break. It was classic but had that certain flair and fit that could
only be had when produced by someone who could count their experience in bespoke
tailoring in decades. Even Dick had to admit that it looked pretty good. “So, is
this your first one of these things?”
She tried for cool. “What makes you ask?” In fact she was feeling a little like
a toddler playing with the grownups and had no real idea what she was supposed
to do or say and to whom she was supposed to say it.
“I’ve never seen you at one before.”
She reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, I mean yes, I’m busted. Does it show?” And was he
hiding her out side like this because he was afraid that she’d trip or drop
something down her cleavage or something?
He smiled at her, shook his head and took her hand. “You’re doing great and that
really is a pretty dress—you look great; you’ve got the matrons asking who you
are.”
“Bull, they’re asking who you’re with is more like it. But this is
starting out fun, my mom insisted I get this (she touched the fabric of her
skirt) and the shoes (she stuck out a foot) and lent me her best jewelry. I feel
like I’m making my debut or something.” A few of the party guests passed by.
“Aren’t you supposed to be talking to the or asking the women to dance or
whatever it is you’re supposed to do?”
Dick gave a barely noticeable shrug. “I try to be invisible at these things.”
“But this is great, all these people and the music—could we dance?”
He’d been to so any of these affairs that he’d hit the point of preferring a
root canal but Marilee’s enthusiasm was fun to see. It made a nice change for
the usuals who were too cool to be impressed by anything and were just using the
evening as yet another tax write off. He pulled her gently to the main terrace
where the string quartet was stationed and swung her into an expert waltz. They
both saw a circle of guests, including Marilee’s parents, standing around the
edges, whispering, smiling and finally starting to join in.
Twenty minutes into the dancing the young couple decided to take a break,
wandering back through the public rooms of the house, Dick stopping to greet the
people he knew, introducing Marilee to Jim Gordon and the Trumps. Lois Lane who
was covering the benefit as part of some charity series she was doing for the
Planet and took several pictures of the two and asked a few softball questions.
Finally, in the large dining room they looked over the silent auction items,
everything from an African photo safari to a new computer to a pet gift basket
(including doggie spa treatments). Marilee lingered over a pair of two carat,
flawless diamond stud earrings donated by Harry Winston’s CEO, one of Bruce’s
tennis partners.
“Do you like them?”
“Of course, they’re beautiful.” Dick wrote the figure five thousand dollars and
his name on the sheet while Marilee stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Are
you serious?”
“Why?” He looked amused.
“Your ears aren’t pierced.”
“Yours are.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s okay.”
She knew the rich were different but this was like their third date, this was
nuts. “Seriously, you don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, well actually I sort of do.” He interrupted whatever she was about to
say. “No, you don’t get it. This is a fundraiser, Bruce is hosting the evening
and he’s sort of my father so I pretty much have to buy something. SOP.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry about it. Really.”
“But won’t Bruce be mad that you’re spending all that money for someone you
don’t even know all that well?”
“Bruce won’t care and he’d be a lot more upset if I didn’t get the auction ball
rolling.”
“But…”
“C’mon, they want everyone to go in to dinner.” He put his arm lightly around
her waist and steered her into the ballroom, set up with thirty round tables of
ten seats each. They were seated with some of Bruce’s best friends at table
seven, sharing the table with the conductor of the Gotham Symphony and his wife,
the head of Bruce’s legal department (and husband), Two of Bruce’s ex model
girlfriends who were actually okay people and the Ambassador from Japan. They
all knew Dick, he knew everyone and did his hosting duties, making sure the
conversation kept rolling and that everyone seemed to have a good time, despite
several too long speeches during dessert.
Marilee touched Dick’s hand and gestured over to table one, Bruce, the guest of
honor, some people she didn’t know and her parents. “How did that happen?”
He shrugged, “’No idea.” Of course he knew what was happening; Bruce wanted to
have a chance to observe, analyze, for and opinion and Dick would get the blow
by blow later—or not.
The evening wore on, the live auction was well financed, raising another two
hundred thousand dollars, the silent auction ended and the items paid for,
dumping yet another eighty thousand into the fund. They hadn’t totaled
everything yet but it was safe to say that the evening was a success.
Dick presented Marilee with the earrings to her astonished delight, she
immediately put them on, giving the CZ copies she was wearing to her mother to
stow in her evening purse while Dick deflected any compliments. He again
insisted that he had to get something and was happy that Marilee would have a
nice souvenir of the evening.
The quartet continued their playing and a number of people moved back out to the
terrace to finish out the evening with a few final dances, including Dick,
Marilee and the Richards.
Inside the house but watching through the opened French doors, Bruce considered
the scene, weighed his options and decided to simply let it play out.
* * *
Then there was the after party, such as it was.
Everyone, the caterers, the musicians, the committee and the guests were all out
the door by one in the morning. Wayne Manor was clean, the dishes washed and
packed away, the tables dismantled, the driveway cleared of cars and most of the
lights turned off. If you didn’t know that over two hundred people had been
there a couple of hours before, you wouldn’t know it.
“Dad, c’mon, please? Dick said he’d drive me home and if it gets too late then
they have like twenty guestrooms. Please?”
“Really, Mr. Richards, it’s no trouble at all; I really don’t mind.” Dick was in
the foyer with the family, looking as earnest as a seventeen year old can look
when talking to a set of parents. “We’re just going for a swim and Bruce said
something about joining us with Carolyn.” The Richard’s looked blank. “His
date.”
“That’s kind of you but it’s late, you’re both tired and there’s no reason on
earth why you can’t just get together for lunch or something tomorrow. Besides,
you’ll freeze.”
“No I won’t, the pool’s heated and they have a Jacuzzi.” Of course they did;
this was Wayne Manor, f’God’ssake. Marilee went for the big guns. “Mom, please?”
Marykate took the easy road. “Dick, could we confirm this with your guardian? I
think we’d both feel better.”
“Sure.”
A few minutes later Bruce was nodding his approval. “Of course, heaven knows
we’ve plenty of room and you shouldn’t worry about a thing. Goodness, with
Alfred here she’ll be as safe as bug in a rug. He never even let me part my hair
wrong when I was Dick’s age.” An odd phrase, but it made his point.
“Really, Bob, I don’t see any reason why she can’t stay a little while longer.
Bruce is here and that nice Alfred—and she’s perfectly right, they have plenty
of room in case Dick is too tired to bring her home. You know he’s been raised
to be a gentleman and I’m sure nothing will happen.”
“Daddy?”
“Bathing suit?”
“We have spares, Mr. Richards.”
His face seemed pained. Of course Bruce Wayne would have spare women’s bathing
suits available. “…Fine. But I want you to call if you’re not coming home, do
you understand? I don’t care what time it is, I want a call—are you sure this is
all right, Mr. Wayne?”
“Bruce, please, Bob and why not? It’s not like anyone here bites or anything and
we’re all parents. She’ll be fine, my word on that.”
Admitting defeat and with Marykate barely managing to suppress that she was
giddy with this turn of events, Bob thanked Bruce for having them, for the
lovely evening and for being so kind to Marilee then escorted his wife home,
minus their daughter.
What they were never told was that, while the two couples—Dick and Marilee and
Bruce and the lovely Carolyn—did indeed, swim and hit the hot tub, Dick and
Marilee were in the indoor facilities. However, Bruce and his paramour du jour
were five hundred yards away in the outdoor pool.
What none of the four knew—well, all right, Dick knew because he was
Robin—Alfred was quietly sipping his Earl Grey in the conservatory while the
teenagers were relaxing in the hot water till almost three. With a frustrated
sigh, Dick knew there was no choice but to make sure she was comfortable in the
Rose guest room, two corridors away from his own room.