We walked into a room hazy from cigarette smoke. Ladies in evening dresses and men in various kinds of suits gathered at tables. The scent of gin and smoke mingled in the hazy air.
I wasn’t surprised to hear jazz music in a place like this. However, seeing my sister Fiona at the piano as well as Li Wu playing a trumpet took me aback. The music was wild. Proper young ladies called the music “dirty.” Apparently my sister wasn’t as proper as I’d thought. No Beethoven or Bach tonight. Currently, Fiona was leaning over her piano with her eyes closed. She sang into a square silver microphone that hung over the keyboards. Notes in a low register of her voice that I’d never heard come out of her mouth. Not a song I recognized, and it was as sultry as a summer breeze carrying the scent of honeysuckle. Without a doubt it was what some would call dirty.
“I don’t like this,” I said under my breath.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
Louisa’s face was as animated as I’d ever seen it. She tapped her foot to the music. In addition to Li and Fiona, there were two others. One played a stand-up bass, the other a saxophone. Both had to be middle-aged if they were a day. Where had these people come from? Why was my sister with them?
Louisa tugged on the sleeve of my jacket. “There’s Cymbeline.”
I looked to the left. Yes, there was Cymbeline along with Poppy, Isak, and Neil Hartman. Alone with two men at an illegal bar. And Poppy? She was old enough to know better than to be here in this illegal establishment. Owned by my brother and brother-in-law, I reminded myself. Why had I thought this would be all right? Of course my sisters would think it was appropriate to join in with the derelicts if their precious Flynn operated the joint.
My blood boiled. And Isak. He was a business owner. He should know better, too. “Come on,” I said to Louisa.
I marched over to the table where Cymbeline was currently tipping back a glass of champagne. Or was it gin? God help me. Had this been going on since I’d left town?
When I arrived at the table, Cymbeline’s eyes widened. She put down her glass. “Theo, what are you doing here?”
At just that moment, the song ended. “The question is, what are you doing here?” My voice rang out in the now-quiet room.
Several people turned to look at us. My blood pulsed in my neck. On the stage, the band started playing another raucous jazz tune as if to drown me out.
“Keeping an eye on Fiona,” Cymbeline said. “Not that anything could happen to her with Li here. But Papa prefers if I accompany her.”
“Pa…Papa,” I sputtered. “Papa knows you’re here?” For some reason, I’d assumed he was in the dark about these night rendezvous. I should have known better. There were no secrets between him and my mother.
“Sure he does,” Cymbeline said. “What’s the harm?”
“Does he know you’re drinking?” I asked.
Poppy had the nerve to laugh.
“You.” I turned on Poppy. “Was this your idea?” She was too modern. Our formerly sweet Poppy. With her sheared hair and running around the valley telling farmers what to do. All the power had gone to her head.
“Theo, there’s no reason for alarm,” Poppy said. “This is just a fun night out. We enjoy music and some laughs.”
“Why didn’t you invite me, then?” I asked. Was I mad or hurt or a combination of both?
“Given your reaction, you can see why,” Cymbeline said.
Isak rose to his feet and clapped my shoulder. “Don’t make a fuss. Join us.” He bowed his head toward Louisa. “You’re looking lovely this evening.”
“Thank you,” Louisa said gaily. “I’m excited to be out.” Out? What had I done? I should never have brought her here. Her father would not have liked it. She said so herself. Now she was in my care. I burned with shame.
Neil had gotten up and held out his hand for me to shake. “Good to see you.”
I shook his hand without enthusiasm. “Yeah, you too.”
Isak had the audacity to look amused. “Have a seat. We’ll order a round of drinks.”
“No, thank you.” I took Louisa’s hand. “I don’t think this is the place for a lady.”
“What did you expect, Theo?” Cymbeline asked. “It’s a jazz club.”
“A jazz club? In Emerson Pass, Colorado?” My voice had risen to just below shouting. “What has happened to you all? This isn’t New York City. We don’t do this here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Isak said. “And Fiona loves playing and singing here. Would you deny her that joy?”