A Day at the Races

Ellie Campbell

On the other side of the house, the space in which the reception and was taking place was already very alive. Tables arranged with white linen tablecloths and gorgeous centerpieces of peony and calla lilly were perfectly placed underneath the massive weeping willows. The exposed bulbs of the lighting was strewn about, colliding with the Spanish moss in the willows and casting it’s tender glow everywhere the trail of lights lead. Lit tiki-style torches outlined the area to keep down the bug interference.  Everything was so beautiful and so dreamy. These waiters that my mum and I had hired for the occasion were ready to please since every guest had either an appetizer, a drink or both in their hands.

  It was beyond picturesque with the black fencing lining the freshly mowed lawn. The gentle sloping of the yard into the pasture was separated by a row of blooming apple trees. The green grasses on which thirteen of the horses were grazing seemed to be never ending and their presence lent a certain beauty to the whole area. The landscape was dotted with an occasional oak surrounded by more black fence. Geese floated on the pond in the distance and the late spring breeze tickled and teased the leaves and the moss of the trees. The smell of the outdoor grill intermingled with the sweet scent of mulch and recently planted flowers; including the large ferns that hung from the overhang on the veranda It was beginning to cast shadows against the red-orange brick.

 “Have you seen my baby?” a woman asked, tipping a flute of champagne to her lips. The seating arrangement around the table was Freddie, Mary, Veronica, and John.

“I’m sorry?” Mary asked looking to the woman standing over she and Freddie.

 “Oh…oh I’m terribly sorry. Elaine Campbell. Please, call me Ellie. I’m Lydia’s mum and it’s my pleasure to have you all here at the estate. I trust you’ve found everythin’ to your liking?” she asked of us. Lenora Elaine Broughton Campbell. She was one of those women who took the breath out of a room in a very positive way. At the age of forty-seven, she hardly looked a day over forty. She was deceptively youthful and full of vigor and life. She had never gone by her birth name of Lenora as her father had always called her his ‘little Ellie’. She had a marvelous smile, was humbly aristocratic, quick witted and had a lust for the finer things life had to offer. She was a divine match to her husband and they complimented each other like a hand to a glove. Ellie Campbell was very liberal, easygoing, an articulate conversationalist, and like her husband, financially; very savvy.  They could take a lump of coal and turn it into a goldmine.

 “We have. Thank you Mrs. Campbell.” Veronica was sincere as she soothed a sleeping Robert. Ellie laughed.

 “Please! It’s Ellie. God! Do I look my husband, Grisham’s, mother? No, of course not. Shit, I’d need to acquire a sense of taste for lace and refer to dessert wines as good table wine!” She insisted. Mary laughed.

 “Well, we thank you very much. It's very nice to meet you, Ellie. Your home and this wedding is just gorgeous! I'm Mary. Mary Austin. Mary introduced herself.

 “You are very welcome, Mary and Veronica? Is it? Your son is just beautiful! Congratulations to you both on such a charming little boy. Lydia was right; he favors his father there. How old is he?”

 “He just turned eight months.” John answered. “I’m John, by the way. You and your husband have quite the spread here.

 "Why, thank you. Like I said, friends of Lydia's are friends of mine and always welcome here. Now, which of you lovelies has a cigarette?" She asked, putting a hand on her hip. Freddie giggled and immediately obliged her. "Thank you. Lydia told me one a' you two would always have a cigarette." Ellie flipped a finger between Mary and Freddie and winked.

 "Did Lydia also tell you that I would wear a fancy hat?" Freddie smiled and touched the edges of his hat for Ellie. She lit her cigarette and looked at him.