The Rhinehart

Chapter 13


Connie and Jen had a clear view of the room from their vantage point. Jen caught sight of Charlotte chatting with Jane and turned to Connie.
“So tell me, aren’t those the same design as the earrings you were describing to me a few weeks back, after your visit with Brad and Brett?” asked Jen.
“The very same. I’m sure Charlotte got the skinny from Brad that I had my eye. She just can’t help one-upping me,” said Connie. “And that crap about her and Brett collaborating on the design. Oh, please! I’m sorry, but she really is a vindictive little bitch.” Connie took a slow sip of her wine. “You know, the worst is that they weren’t actually for me. I had been looking for a while for something extra special for my mom’s 50th. But I refuse to let her get the best of me.”
Jen could feel the anger as Connie’s mood shifted. She was now almost blazing as she gazed through the door. She could have blown the back off Charlotte’s head, had her eyes been an armed weapon. Changing gears, Jen tried to improve Connie’s mood.
“And how’s it going with Ian? He certainly knows how to put together an evening,” Jen said, smiling at her friend.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t he? So relaxed and engaging. He actually asked if he could escort me home, since it’s getting so late. Pretty adorable, eh?” said Connie, dreamily. She quickly snapped back to reality and regained her composure. “And Tyson, as usual, is a total fox. And what a great entrance. It definitely made up for his late arrival, and shot him right into the thick of things.”
No sooner had Connie spoken, than Ian and Tyson made there way on to the patio to join Jen and Connie.
“Private party out here or can anyone join in?” asked Tyson, waiting for an invite from the girls.
“Absolutely!” said Jen. The boys pulled up chairs while the server inquired about drinks and more appetizers to ply them with. Tyson opted for a club soda, while the girls and Ian were fine with what they had.
“Connie and I were just saying what a lovely evening you’ve put together, Ian. Really excellent. And the food! My God. I’m totally stuffed,” said Jen, patting her stomach.
“Auch! Totally my pleasure. Surely you lasses still have some room left for sweets. We’re having them served in an hour or so, and the pastry chef promised to attempt to recreate my Gram’s special Tipsy Laird pudding. Really, it’s just a twist on the traditional Scots Trifle. Except hers has more than a trifle of Drambuie, you see,” said Ian.
“I think we can manage a wee bit of dessert,” said Connie. “Sugar is not usually something we pass up, right Jen?” said Connie. From there the conversation remained light and companionable. About 45 minutes later, as if on cue, one of the servers appeared and announced that there were now desserts and after dinner beverages in the main suite. As promised, there was a variety of pastries and cakes to tempt even the most discerning palate. But all eyes were focused on the sleek, slender individual parfait glasses filled with the most heavenly concoction. Each glass was filled to the brim with layers of Drambuie-soaked pound cake, strawberry Jell-o, raspberries, whipped cream, all topped off with flaked almonds. The 4-some abandoned the patio to join the crowd back in the suite, and Ian was obviously pleased with the true delight Connie exhibited towards the trifle.
“If this is your grandmother’s specialty, I can see why!” Connie said. “Yum! So totally luscious. Of course, you’re practically drunk from the fumes before it even hits your mouth.” Taking another mouthful, she moaned again. “Mmm…my God! I’m definitely going to have to smuggle one of these babies home,” she said, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin. Ian was beaming from ear to ear.
“I must say there’s nothing I like more than a lass with a good appetite,” Ian said. “Every time I see one of those thin and bony wenches, I think of me granddad and how hard life as a crofter could be. No use for the sickly and weak.”
“Your folks are farmers?” asked Connie.
“Nah. My father’s a mechanic and my mother’s a nurse. But they’re both from farm stock and my father’s parents had a fairly good sized farm. Just a wee bit from our home town of Cullen. It’s up there in the north eastern country. We don’t know how easy we have it, nowadays. The land, she can be harsh at times,” said Ian. “And your kin?” he asked Connie.
“My mom and dad met in university, back in Edmonton. Dad’s a good Ukrainian boy, and the family still has a fair sized farm outside of Mundare. Famous for its kielbasa. I’m a closet kielbasa addict, actually. So as you can see, I come by all of this honestly,” said Connie as she pointed out her obvious stature.
“So how many acres, she be?” asked Ian.
“Oh, let’s see. Hmm. Don’t quite have my math hat on right now, but let me try. It’s good practice, you know. 640 acres to a section, 1 section to a square mile. If you’re doing hectares, there are approximately 2.5 acres to a hectare. They have about 3 ½ sections. I’m sorry I’m taking my math hat off now before my eyes start to roll back into my head,” Connie said. They both had a hardy laugh.
“I must say, you prairie folk really seem to do things in a big way,” said Ian. “Ours ran about half the size of one of your sections. My brother and me spent many a summer helping our granddad out. A lot of me pals never understood how we could spend an entire summer in the middle of nowhere. There’s really not much to explain. It was a real life, an honest life.”
“Exactly,” Connie said. “Some of my best memories are of the farm and harvest time. Picking raspberries, making jams and pickling beets. And the endless perogies. They may as well have hooked me up to a perogy and kielbasa I.V. My Baba Nora made the best.”

It was almost midnight, and Ian started to shut the evening down by thanking everyone for coming and making the hotel’s private cars at anyone’s disposal; he wanted to ensure everyone had safe passage home. Connie hung back as the suite emptied and waited for Ian to give final instructions to the staff and thank each one personally for a job well done. Retrieving Connie’s shawl from the closet, they made their way down to the lobby and into the waiting car.
Kyle and Shannon left slightly ahead of the rest and went directly to Res. where Kyle dropped Shannon off. She had been up since four in the morning, but thankfully had the foresight to take a much-needed afternoon nap. She was in bed within minutes of arriving back at her apartment. Chef Marquat knew of the party, and generously told Shannon that she could start her shift an hour later if required. Shannon reveled in the thought of an extra hour of sleep, and with a soft moan and a warm sigh almost immediately fell into a deep sleep.
Meanwhile back at the hotel, Jen, Tyson, Darren and Nomi were just heading out the back doors and on to the rear path. As well as leading back to Res, it also connected to the extensive network of strolling paths that ringed the formal gardens and skirted the lake front. Jen turned to Tyson and smiled.
“If it’s not too late, are you into a stroll down to the lake?” she said.
“Absolutely,” answered Tyson.
Darren and Nomi silently dropped back and seemed into the same plan. Branching off from the others, they found a secluded bench on the far side of the main fountain. Darren interpreted the positive vibes that Nomi had been sending out all night as the go ahead signal he’d been waiting for. Yet he still wanted to be sure he wasn’t moving too fast.
“What an excellent time tonight, eh?” he said taking the pause to casually drape his arm over Nomi’s shoulder. Nomi took the cue, and curled up on the bench and snuggled into his chest.
“Ian is really a class act,” said Nomi. “Just between you and me, I think Connie was doubly impressed. She can fit seamlessly into the international night club scene, but trust me, she was impressed.”
“Well, as much as I’d like to think tonight was all about wanting to party, Ian seems totally into Connie,” said Darren. “Speaking of being totally into…” Darren paused and moved in, gently enveloping her with his other arm and gently brushing her lips with his. Nomi reached up with her free hand, and gripping the back of his neck she responded with a kiss of her own. Almost shaking with reserved excitement, she rested her head on his shoulder. Only a few brief moments passed before she was assaulted by the most delicate butterfly kisses moving up the nape of her neck just below her ear. Nomi instinctive arched her head back, her whole body responding with the uncontrollable craving for more.
Darren moved his hand up behind her neck as he gently turned her head and went in for a long, slow, sensuous kiss. When they finally broke off, he slightly pulled away and gathered her back to snuggle under his arm. They later could laugh that they were so out of breath with excitement, that neither spoke as they just sat there. Darren gently stroked the side of her face.
About half an hour passed when the couple heard the voices of Tyson and Jen approaching. Since Tyson had limited his alcoholic intake to a single beer and had pre-planned with the girls to give Nomi a ride home, they were now making it clear that the evening was winding down to a close. As they said their goodbyes at the Res. front doors, each had their own reasons for declaring this particular night a complete success.