The Restoration of Celia Fairchild - Marie Bostwick Page 0,122
fireplace, and wearing a short skirt of pink tulle and an upcycled denim jacket with hand-embroidered cactus flowers on the yoke, Pris looked even cuter than usual.
When the Frozen song started, she lifted her champagne glass high above her head, moved the microphone closer to her mouth, screwed her eyes shut and threw back her head, wailing about not caring what they said, and the storm raging, and the cold never bothering her anyway.
The crowd went wild, whooping and shouting and “Amen, Sister”-ing. It was almost like going to church with Teddy.
“You go, girl!” Caroline hollered, punching the air with her fist.
Polly leapt to her feet. “Yes, ma’am! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”
Even Mr. Laurens, who surprised me and everybody else by actually responding to the invitation I’d issued purely from politeness, and even brought a gift, a onesie emblazoned with the University of South Carolina logo on the front and the words “Future Tailgater” written on the back in Gamecock red, clapped his approval before biting into his third cupcake.
Clearly, I’d been wrong about the karaoke. People were really into it.
After a sumptuous brunch and the opening of gifts, Calvin had kicked off the festivities by singing a duet with Simon, who had arrived early that morning, flying in between natural disasters. Their campy version of “Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better” had everybody laughing.
After that, everybody wanted a turn.
Lorne, who really did have a good voice, tossed show tunes and the whole “Broadway Baby” theme to the curb, singing “God Bless the Broken Road,” flirting with Polly the whole time. Beau, who was sporting a peacock-feather bow tie and turquoise-colored pants, sang a duet with Felicia, “Ah, yes, I remember it well,” that made everybody tear up. Next, Caroline hopped to her feet, grabbed Happy’s hand, and dragged her up to sing “I Could Have Danced All Night.” Caroline’s choreography was excellent, and what they lacked in pitch they made up for in enthusiasm.
Yes, a certain amount of inhibition-lowering champagne consumption had been required to get people to this point, but I thought there might be more to it. Almost everybody in the room had played a part in making the adoption possible. It was our house, our baby, our party. And in another few weeks, when I brought Peaches home, these people would be her family. I think that’s why everybody was so ready to celebrate, including me.
Pris put her champagne glass down on the mantel and reached for Happy’s hand, pulling her onstage and slinging her arm over her mom’s shoulder. Happy belted out the Frozen song’s chorus and then beckoned to Felicia, who hopped to her feet and then reached out to Caroline and Polly. They bounced and bopped and circled around the mic like a sixties girl group, urging each other to let it go. Polly saw me standing in the back and gestured for me to come up and join them.
Lucky for me, and for those who would have been forced to hear me sing, the doorbell rang just at that moment. I spread out my hands, pretended to look sad about missing out on the fun, and trotted off to answer it.
Getting from the living room to the foyer required stepping over piles of crumpled wrapping paper and discarded ribbons, and turning sideways to get past the small mountain of baby presents that included a combination baby carriage/car seat from Calvin and Simon, a Bitty and Beau’s Teddy bear from Teddy, a wooden rocking horse that Lorne had built himself, a diaper bag that Polly had sewn and filled with supplies, a crocheted toy pug dog and set of board books from Caroline and Heath, a handmade quilted playmat and electronic baby monitor from Felicia and Beau, a vintage cradle that Pris and Happy had stripped, repainted, and stenciled themselves, and a diaper cake from Dana Alton, not to mention a whole wardrobe of baby clothes from the other neighbors.
I had a zillion thank-you notes to write, but Peaches would be well supplied, which was kind of a relief since the remodeling budget had gobbled up the baby budget and then some. I’d handed the last of the invoices and files off to Trey just a couple of days previously, so he could review everything before I wrote Lorne his final check. Things were tight, but Teddy and Polly had insisted on paying rent. That would help a little. And maybe I’d find some freelance work somewhere. I’d figure it