Page 59 of The Party Plot

“Come on.” Laurel stood, dusting himself off. “We’re already dressed up, and Casey planned half the thing, anyway. He should get to see how it turned out.”

“I actually am curious.” Casey’s voice was noncommittal.

“I don’t know.” Melody made a face, chewing on the end of her vape pen. “Are you really sure you want to deal with your mom tonight? It’ll be messy.”

“It’ll be perfect.” Better, even, than he could have planned it. He turned to her. “It’s just like we talked about. A chance to show everyone up. Howie Bonard’s been arrested, so now everyone knows what a slimeball he is. You can walk into that party with your head held high, and no one can say anything.”

“They can say a lot,” Melody replied darkly. “I’m sure more than half the town still thinks he’s blameless. Or that she’s making it up.”

“Fuck them,” Laurel said. “Casey? What do you think?”

“Won’t it cause a scene?” he asked. “Denise will be pissed.”

“I know.” Laurel felt himself smile, but it was more of a baring of teeth. His heart was pounding, a giddy, foolish heat spreading through his limbs. He felt like he was about to climb up a cliff, or jump out of a plane. “It’ll be amazing.”

Casey took one last bite of noodles, then got to his feet. He gave Laurel a sly, indulgent smile. Playing the devil again, even though he was actually the best thing that had ever happened to him. “Well, I’m in. I want to see how bad these flowers are.”

Melody sighed. “Y’all.”

“Come on, Melody,” Casey said. “You have to admit, you look too good tonight not to rub it in people’s faces.”

She let out a surprised little puff of laughter. “You’re too convincing. Okay. Fifteen minutes, and that’s it.”

20.

The wordfestoonedcame to mind as soon as they stepped into the ballroom, and it didn’t leave. Laurel knew that Halloween colors were black and orange, so he assumed that was the color that was everywhere, even though orange often looked pretty greenish to him. Landry Hall was covered in it, garlands draped along the molding and dripping down the walls, giant bouquets of sunflowers and daisies and corn cobs and autumn leaves wobbling on the tables, dwarfing the seafood towers Denise had demanded, which looked pretty gruesome after several hours of sitting out. There were pumpkins, too, clustered around the edges of the room and piled against the far wall, gauzy patches of fake spider web clinging to them. Laurel’s mom had never been afraid of doing too much, as evidenced by the interior of her house, so there were also a plethora of Halloween props: scarecrows in the corners and along the walls, bats hanging from the ceiling, a mummy holding a tray of programs, a witch propping up the cocktail menu, plastic skulls and rubber rats scattered along the tables.

“Oh my God, it’s absolutely tragic,” Casey muttered.

“It’s definitely a lot,” Melody agreed.

They had come in through the service entrance (Casey had remembered the key code) and up the backstairs into the ballroom, and they were lurking on the periphery of the room, next to one of the tables of appetizers. Laurel knew from the schedule that Casey had spent hours poring over that they had missed cocktail hour and the seated dinner, and now the party was supposed to be in full swing. But the dance floor was less than full, and the jazz band (at least it wasn’t a string quartet this time) didn’t seem to be inspiring people to get out and cut a rug. Laurel saw a few couples out shuffling around awkwardly. Jessica Fuller was some sort of sexy tiger, and her husband wore safari clothes and a pith helmet (problematic?). Wayon Bonard and his third wife were dressed as George and Martha Washington, if Martha Washington shopped at Frederick’s of Hollywood. Apparently they didn’t care about his little brother’s arrest, or didn’t find it embarrassing enough to skip the party. Birdie Callaway, costume unclear, was out there dancing by herself, a glass of punch in each hand, seeming to be the only one actually having any fun.

The rest of the guests were mostly seated, or milling around aimlessly with cocktails in their hands or taking selfies with the decorations. He recognized almost everyone: his lacrosse coach, his polo coach, many of his former teachers (Ms. Nelson and Mr. Petrowski hadn’t made the cut—I wonder why, Laurel thought sarcastically). Lavinia Bonard was at one of the tables, not in costume (was it beneath her?), holding court with a gaggle of church ladies and school board moms. Melody’s parents weren’t there, which was a small mercy. He knew from working on the guest list that they had been invited, but they were the kind of religious where Halloween bordered on sacrilege. The rest of the Callaways also weren’t in attendance, probably not wanting to face Lavinia Bonard after Lydia’s accusations had gone public. Jasper lay under one of the tables, sleepily chewing on part of a ham that he must have stolen off one of the carving boards. Denise’s friend Meredith, dressed as a ladybug, had brought her lhasa apso, Peaches, also dressed as a ladybug, and was crouched down, trying to get a photo of her posed on a stack of pumpkins.

Laurel didn’t see Denise at first, but then he did, as the sparse population on the dance floor milled around and shifted. She was dancing with Sarah Ann Copeland’s oldest son, Roland, her brown hair piled into Holly Golightly’s iconic bouffant hairdo, her tiara slightly askew.

His stomach dropped, and, despite all of his fantasies of confronting her, Laurel felt the sudden urge to turn and run back out the emergency exit and down the stairs. He fumbled blindly at one of the plates of appetizers, finding a meatball skewer and taking a big bite.

Melody put a hand on his arm, showing him her phone. “It’s already been five minutes. You’ve got ten left.”

Laurel swallowed, hardly tasting the food. Maybe they should actually just leave. They’d satisfied themselves that the party was worth missing and the decorations were terrible, and there was really no one there he wanted to spend time with. “Yeah. I think—I think I’m good.”

“I’m not.” Casey flicked contemptuously at a rubbery piece of shrimp dangling from one of the seafood towers. “I want to see the flower wall.”

“What, just to see how bad it is?” He had to admit, he liked Casey’s spiteful side.

“Exactly.” Casey peered across the room. “It should be just inside the front entrance, unless she changed the layout around, too.”

“No, you’re right.” Some of the foolhardy sense of chaos that had gripped him on the lawn was returning, and Laurel squared his shoulders. “We should take a selfie with it, for posterity. I just wonder if we can get over there without getting trapped in a conversation with any—”

The screech of microphone feedback cut him off. Laurel winced, and Jasper, from under the table, let out a short, howling bark in protest. Denise was climbing up the steps to the stage, and Laurel’s stomach sank as he heard her clear her throat into the microphone. He recognized that sound from years of parties past. It meant she was about to make an announcement, and even though she didn’t know he was there, couldn’t possibly be about to bring him up to sing, he could feel sweat prickling at his hairline and acid rising in his throat.

The band had stopped playing, the hum of conversation in the room growing quiet.

“Hello, everyone!” Denise’s voice rang out across the ballroom. It was her beauty-queen voice, breathy and girlish, her accent thicker than usual. Laurel realized he had inched closer to Casey, as if he could hide behind him. The last time he’d seen his mother face-to-face had been in this same ballroom, and all of a sudden, Laurel felt unfathomably tired.

“It is my absolute pleasure to welcome y’all to the first-annual Bonard Halloween Ball.” Denise was smiling out over the crowd, but she didn’t seem to have noticed the three of them. Of course not. This was her moment, after all, and there was no room for anyone else. “And gosh, what a ball it’s turned out to be! When I tell y’all I did not think I would be standing here, well.” She let out a laugh, pressing a hand to her chest. “As many of you know, we facedquitea few trials and tribulations pulling this event together. But the night is finally here, and it’s everything I dreamed of!”