Alex in Wonderland (The Wonderland Series Book 1) (24 page)

41

Sunrise
, Sunset

“That’s so bizarre,” Alex said.
“I’ve never even seen Camilla take a drink.”

Angelique shrugged. “I guess it’s
just one more thing we didn’t know about her. I must say that girl is full of
surprises.”

Alex was dying for details. His
father had long since disappeared with a couple of cronies, but with his
mother’s help he signaled an official end to the receiving line. Poor Samara
Sarpy, in a reluctant return engagement, tried to announce the cutting of the
cake, but Alex insisted that he and Jackie needed a private moment first. He
asked Karen to join them but she insisted on tending to Aunt Monette who was
inexplicably plying her with questions about the Louisiana Purchase.
With Jackie and Denise in tow, he and Angelique trooped outside where Alex
finally noticed the beautiful day. He was so exhilarated he hugged the women
all over again.

“Okay,” he told Angelique. “What’s
the scoop?”

“First, I have to give credit where
credit’s due. This was all Jolie’s idea, even though nothing turned out as we
expected. Camilla may be cagey in some departments but she’s a big fool in
others, meaning she still considers me a trusted confidante. She never dreamed
I had a hand in the fishing camp incident, and when she said she was out for
revenge, of course I reported her threat directly to Jolie. He told me to ask
her to lunch the day of the wedding and offer to drive her to the chapel to
make her big scene. She was so desperate for an accomplice it was pathetic. She
has, it seems, lost all her friends.” Angelique blew a stream of smoke toward
the blue sky. “Pity.”

Despite the day’s warmth, Alex had
a sudden chill. “What exactly did she plan to do?”

“She was never very clear about
that,” Angelique reported. “In fact, she wasn’t clear about anything except a
desire to get revenge, and believe me when I say she was out to scorch the
earth!” She sipped her champagne. “Since she wanted to be incognito, we went to
lunch at Coop’s on

Jackie and Denise exchanged puzzled
looks.
“Comme?”

“She was drunk,” Alex explained.

“Ahhh!”

“So I excused myself and went to
the loo to call Jolie. When I told him Camilla was cocktailed, he said to keep
her there until he arrived. And this is the funny part. We’re all so used to
him being Jolie that we forget he’s also Jacques Menard. When he wants to butch
it up, he’s quite irresistible to the ladies.”

“Oh, no!” muttered Alex.

“Oh, yes!” Angelique insisted. “He
introduced himself as Jean-Luc Something-or-other, poured on the Gallic charm
and next thing you know—”

Alex grinned. “Camilla came on to
him!”

“Like gangbusters!” Angelique laughed.
“It was downright embarrassing the way she crawled all over him in the dark,
unbuttoning his shirt and doing God knows what with her hand underneath the
table. I must say Jean-Luc, was a terrific sport and played his role to the
hilt. When he told her he had a sweet little
pied-à-terre
right around the corner, she practically
drooled into her Sunrise.”

Alex was horrified. “Is he crazy?!
If he took her home and she figured out who he is—!”

“Relax, sweetie pie.
Jolie wasn’t about to implicate himself. Besides, Camilla was so bloody
shit-faced she couldn’t tell the difference between Jean-Luc and John Paul II.
She was absolutely reeling when we steered her up the street to his house. We
both assumed she would pass out and sleep through the wedding and reception,
but no such luck. We got her into bed alright, but we’d no sooner gone into the
living room and called you when she reappeared stark naked with lovin’ on her
mind. That’s why Jolie had to get off the phone so fast.”

“It sounded like a brawl.”

“When he tried to Camilla to lie
down,
sans
sex, she got pissed and started throwing things. She’s so
used to taking her clothes
off,
I guess she’s not used to someone
telling her to put them
on
.” Another sip of champagne and a drag off her
cigarette. “Well, you know how Jolie feels about his antiques being messed
with, and that’s when we realized we were in over our heads. He wrestled her
back to bed and held on until she finally passed out. By then the wedding was
over, but we didn’t want her sobering up at Jolie’s place. While I helped him
get her dressed, we decided to take her down the street to Cabrini
Park. She was about half-conscious
while we walked her down the street and—”

“No one stopped you?” Denise asked.

“Of course not,” Angelique said.
“Drunks prowl the Quarter night and day, so it’s hardly unusual to see someone
helping a friend who’s had too much to drink.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said a deep
voice.

“Jolie!” Alex cried. He had
appeared out of nowhere, resplendent in black tie as he hugged Alex and
dispensed kisses all around. Alex smelled bourbon on his breath but figured the
guy deserved a drink after what he’d been through. “Thank God you’re alright!”

“And you got here just in time to
finish the story,” Angelique said. “I was just to the part where we got Camilla
into the park.”

Jolie nodded. “Ah. Well, things got
more interesting when I spotted some derelict sleeping it off in the corner and
decided to incorporate him into the plan. We eased Camilla down beside him,
tiptoed off to watch things from a safe distance, and called 911. Drunks are
never an emergency unless they’re violent, so I reported a mugging in progress.
Camilla had passed out again when the police got there, and things got really
dicey when the cops tried to hustle her and her new friend out of the park.
As
Tenn
used to say, she was ‘cross as ten flies.’”

“To put it mildly,” Angelique said
with a chuckle.

“She fought like a wildcat, and
when one rather handsome young officer got kneed in the groin, Camilla got
cuffed. That was our cue to
exeunt
.” Jolie bowed with exaggerated
politeness. “I do apologize for being so late.”

He and Angelique glowed with pride
as everyone applauded, Alex loudest of all. Alex had never been so proud to
call someone a friend and told Jolie as much before going back inside. “I’ll
owe you for this forever,” he said. “Thanks to you, it looks like my life is
finally going to come together.”

“I sure as hell hope so.” Jolie
draped an arm around Alex’s shoulder as they headed toward the wedding cake. “I
know how hard this past year has been for you, kiddo, and I’m happy I could
help get you through it.” His eyes brimmed with tears as he gave Alex a gentle
push. “Now get over to that cake and play groom.”

When Alex and Jackie finished
cutting the cake and posing for the obligatory photos with icing on their chins, they took their first dance.
Alex’s father was still nowhere to be seen, but the mother of the groom
scarcely missed him in the arms of the dashing Jacques Menard. Alex watched
them whirl around the dance floor, heart filled with happiness as his mother’s
laughter floated above the crowd. He knew Jolie had told her about Camilla when
she caught his eye and gave him a thumbs-up. It was a gesture he never expected
to see from his mother, and as Duncan Stone gallantly took Jackie off his
hands, he cut in on Jolie.

“Happy, son?” Karen asked.

“Happier than I’ve been in a long
time,” he said.

“Me too.” She blew a kiss to Jolie
who was now dancing with Denise. “I absolutely adore my new daughters-in-law. Aunt
Monette too. Which reminds me. She’s not as nuts as we think. Oh, she has ditsy
moments alright, but I think she’s more savvy than anyone realizes. In fact,
when the truth comes out about you and Jackie, I’ll bet she’s not bothered at
all.”

“Oh?”

Karen nodded against his lapel.
“It’s not much to go on, but after the ceremony she told me she knew her niece
was happy which was all she and her brother ever wanted.”

“And you don’t think she’ll care
whether Jackie finds happiness with a man or a woman?”

“Not really. I know it’s cliché,
but life really is full of secrets. Lord knows we Sumners have more than our
share.”
 

“What do you mean?”
 
          
Karen
smiled and whispered in Alex’s ear. "Not just yet, my dear. Timing is
everything you know."

PART
FIVE

“‘I
could tell you my adventures--beginning from this morning,’ said
Alice
a little timidly: ‘but it's no use going
back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.’”

-Lewis Carroll,
Alice’s Adventures in
Wonderland

42

Tennessee
's Waltz

“I must say we I absolutely adore
this hotel,” Jackie said. Far more sober than Jolie and Alex, she and Denise
deftly dodged furniture as they waltzed around the intimate suite. “You
couldn’t have picked a more charming spot.”

“I’ve always loved the Maison de
Ville,” Jolie enthused. “Tenn and
I thought it was the most romantic old hotel in the Quarter. He used to stay in
Number Nine.”

“Who is this Ten?” Denise asked.
“You mentioned him before. Something about being ‘cross as ten flies.’”

“Tenn
was Tennessee Williams’s nickname. Do you know him in France?”

“Of course.
And you knew him?! How wonderful!”

“Not always, Denise.”
Jolie closed his eyes a moment. “Tenn
was the quintessential tortured genius. He could be pretty difficult,
especially toward the end.”

“I’m sure you have good memories
too,” Jackie offered.

“
C’est vrai
. Tenn
could be charming and very, very funny. He once remarked that gay men in the
French Quarter didn’t ‘come out of the closet’ but ‘stepped out of the
armoire.’ And of course we had some really wild times in his place on

Alex chuckled. “Know who else I
wish was here? Jerry Falwell!”

Jolie snorted. “Why would you want
to see that hateful old bigot?”

“Because the sight of that
beautiful bride dancing with her beautiful maid of honor would give the bastard
a stroke. Just look at them, Jolie!”

The women were utterly lost in each
other’s eyes, at that moment unaware of anything hateful or homophobic in the
world. Alex saw something else too, a mutual love and contentment that was
almost tangible, and although he was happy for them he couldn’t help being
envious. He inevitably thought of Cord, and before he grew dangerously
introspective announced it was time to go.

“Jolie and I better hit the road.”

No one questioned his decision. The
four had been in Jackie’s suite for almost two hours, dancing, toasting each
other with Möet and reminiscing about the day’s monumental events. For
appearance’s sake, Alex had booked another suite in the nearby Audubon Cottages
under Mr. and Mrs. Alex Sumner, and the look on the women’s faces told him it
was time he used it.

“It’s been an amazing day, ladies.
Thanks for making it possible.”

“Denise and I are the ones who
should be grateful,” Jackie said, rising to give him a kiss and hug. “We’ve
been looking for someone like you a long time. You’ve no idea.”

“She’s right,” Denise said,
blinking away tears as Alex embraced her. “Who would’ve imagined we’d have to
venture all the way to New Orleans
to find our liberator?”

“Let’s not forget Jolie’s part in
all this,” Alex said.

“Enough hugs and tears,” Jolie
said. He opened the door and stepped into the lush courtyard with its
sun-splashed fountain. “You guys keep that up and the hotel will call the
schmaltz police.”
 

Alex paused in the doorway.
“Breakfast tomorrow, ladies?”

Jackie blushed. “Better make it
brunch,
ma cheri
. Denise and I have
some serious celebrating to do.”

“Alex and I do too,” Jolie said,
lifting his champagne flute high. “Better make it lunch.”

The women laughed and blew kisses.
“Á
bientot!”
they chorused.

“What a couple of dolls,”
Alex said as they walked down Toulouse
to

“So did
I
. The first time I met them.”

“It’s amazing what they
have together, Jolie.”

“Agreed. It’s what most
people want I suppose.”

“You don’t?”

“Not any more.”

“What a strange thing to
say.”

“Not really.”

The comment dogged Alex
as he unlocked the gate to the Audubon Cottages and led Jolie to a suite at the
rear of the courtyard. In all their months of confidences and shared
experiences, Alex still knew precious little about his best friend’s past
relationships. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Jolie steered
the conversation elsewhere whenever matters turned personal, and this time he
challenged it.

“What did you mean back
there? About not wanting what the girls have?”

“Just what I said. I’ve
already had my one great love, and I know I’ll never have another one.” He
swallowed the last of the champagne as they crossed the courtyard. “Why kid
myself, kiddo?”

Alex had never seen Jolie
look so serious.
 
“Do you want to tell me
about it?”

 
“You won’t laugh?”

“Of course not.”

“I might need a
soupçon
more champagne.”

“That’s no problem.” Alex
unlocked the suite and selected a bottle of Laffite Rothschild from the
honeymoon gift bottles. He knew he was drinking too much but asked himself if
this wasn’t a special day, what was? “Well?”

Jolie held the flute
beneath his nose and enjoyed the bubbles before taking a hearty swig. “It was Tenn.”

Alex was surprised, but
not altogether. Jolie referred to Tennessee Williams often, usually when
relating tales about famous and infamous men who’d crossed his path over the
years. Some of the facts didn’t always ring true, but Alex knew Jolie and
Williams had been more than ships passing in the night. Proof was in a photo on
Jolie’s nightstand. A shirtless Jolie dangled his legs in a swimming pool with
Tennessee Williams kneeling behind, chin resting on Jolie’s right shoulder.
Both men squinted against harsh sunlight, but the photograph still froze a very
happy moment in time.

“I was twenty-six when we
met back in 1978. Tenn was
speaking at the Theater for the Performing Arts and I was in the audience.
There were terrible rains that night with flooding everywhere, but I was such a
fan I was right there in the front row. I was so star-struck it was love at
first sight, at least on my part. I mean, the man was a legend in his own time
and, corny as it sounds, when I saw him the next night in Lafitte’s I swooned
all over again. Of course lots of guys were hitting on him because of who he
was. I wanted him too, but I was also concerned because he was so drunk. I
bullied my way through the crowd and eventually got Mr. Williams out of there.
It was still pouring, but he didn’t mind getting wet and handed me his keys
when we got to his house on

Considering the
seriousness of story and moment, Alex was surprised when Jolie laughed.
"What did he say?"

“Tenn
chuckled and said, ‘Whoever you are, I’ve always depended on the kindness of
strangers
.’ He later confessed he wrote that famous last
line to get a laugh, and was disappointed when it never did. He delivered it as
it had been intended, and for one fragile, fleeting, stormy New
Orleans moment he became Blanche DuBois. To this day
that’s my favorite memory of the man, and to think it happened the night we
met.”

This was one story that
Alex didn’t doubt because he knew it came straight from the heart.

“I stayed with him
exactly one week,” Jolie continued. “The most glorious seven days of my life.
Then he went back to New York,
and I saw him intermittently when he came to town. Usually he had some new guy
with him but when he didn’t I happily shared his bed. To be honest, he was
usually so sloshed that sex wasn’t possible, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even
care when he was abusive because I knew that was the booze and pills talking.
When Tenn was sober, he
was
 
absolutely
extraordinary, flaws and all, but so very, very lost. He reminded me of that
old spiritual. You know the one. ‘Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.’
And you know what else? It never once bothered me that he was forty years
older.”

“When was the last time
you saw him?”

“In 1983. Tenn
came down to sell the house on Dumaine and he had one of his boy toys in tow.
He was in terrible shape, totally irascible, almost blind.” Jolie’s voice
cracked and he swallowed hard, warning Alex the story was growing painful. “He
sort of dismissed me, but like all people in love I made excuses and blamed the
addiction, not the addict. I loved him as much as ever, but I knew he was a
drowning man and that no one could save him. Not me. Not anyone. A month later,
he was dead.”

Although two decades had
passed, Jolie’s story was told with such poignancy that the playwright’s death
seemed recent. Alex was deeply moved. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not. At least Tenn’s
demons were finally stilled.”

“I wish I’d known him,”
Alex said.

“Me too. Oh, how Tenn
would’ve loved those sweet gray eyes and all that blonde hair.” Jolie coughed
and cleared his throat. “Sometimes I wish…no, never mind. The champagne is
making me melancholy and I detest anyone feeling sorry for
themselves
,
especially drunks.”

Alex could never tell
when Jolie had drunk too much, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He picked up
the room service menu. “Know what? Suddenly I’m famished. Let’s get something
sent over from the Bistro and have a pigfest.”

Jolie looked at his
watch. “No, thanks. I want to go home and get in my own bed and not wake up
until it’s time for lunch with the girls.”

“I’ll walk you home,”
Alex insisted.

“I’m fine, Alex
.
I
promise I’m much more tired than drunk and it’s still light outside.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts.’ Besides, you
need to stay here. Whoever heard of a newlywed groom prowling the French
Quarter on his honeymoon night?”

Alex was unnerved. The
events of the day, coupled with Jolie’s moving confession about Tennessee
Williams, suddenly overwhelmed him and the idea of being alone was unbearable.
“Please don’t leave, Jolie. I’m too keyed up to stay by myself.” He threw
himself in Jolie’s arms. “I’m so upset I’m shaking. Can’t you feel it?”

“You have no idea how
much you sound like Tenn. He was
like a child afraid of the dark and terrified of being alone at bedtime” Jolie
folded him in his arms and hugged him until the trembling slowed and stopped.
“That’s my boy. You’ve had one helluva day, and you’re feeling the unavoidable
letdown. So
am
I, and I’ll admit it’s a dilly!”

“Jolie, please don’t
leave.”

Jolie was adamant. “I
have to go,
bébé
. I’m dead on my feet, but I’ll call you when I get
home. If you don’t feel better, I’ll come back over.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alex stood in the open
door until Jolie disappeared into the deepening shadows of dusk. He didn’t step
back inside until he heard the gate clank shut on

“Warm.”

Alex decided he didn’t
want more alcohol. What he wanted was what Jackie and Denise had. He wanted
someone to hold him and say I love you and all those hokey things that Jolie
dismissed and he craved. Sure, Jolie could be cavalier because he’d had his one
great love, and the possibility that Alex had lost his chance with Cord was
unbearable. Fear and loneliness rushed back, this time coupled with a powerful
anxiety.

Alex tossed off his tie
and stretched out on the couch, hoping the ugly moment would pass. If not, he
thought, I’ll call Jolie and tell him to get his ass back over here. I can’t
fucking stand this!

The feeling didn’t
intensify, but neither did it pass. As though he could physically fend it off,
Alex grabbed a pillow and covered his face. He tried to focus on positive
things, on the liberation he would find with Jackie’s inheritance and long
stays in Europe, the satisfaction that would come from
telling his homophobic father he had sired a gay child and the freedom of
finally being true to himself. It helped, but Alex’s mind was so cluttered that
his brain shut down and he dozed off. Unfortunately it was a restless sleep
giving him no peace, riddled with the kind of hideously vivid nightmares that
awoke him over and over only to reclaim him again. More than once he was
awakened by his own terrified moans.
Then came the loud,
insistent beeping.

“Someone make it stop!”

By the time Alex realized
it was his cell phone, the signal had stopped. The room was dark and his tuxedo
shirt was soaked with sweat. He sat up, trying to remember where he was when
the phone sounded again. The deep voice at the other end plunged him back into
the nightmares.