***
We pulled into Dad’s driveway and found him sitting on the patio, reading the Sunday paper. As Worth, Ford and I approached, Dad stood and came toward us. He took one look at our faces and said with a resigned look, “I guess you know.”
He hugged me, shook Worth’s hand and we followed him back to the patio. “Auggie, go in and get some glasses. I have a pitcher of sweet tea here.”
“Did you know anything about it?” I heard Worth ask as I returned, glasses in hand.
“Not until yesterday evening,” Dad answered, patting his crossed leg in a sort of nervous gesture. In the distance, someone was driving dad’s tractor, mowing the fresh Spring grass. Dad didn’t have any horses at the time, so the tractor was doing the munching.
“I had a phone call from her,” he continued, looking down into Ford’s carrier when he whimpered. “She said she was calling to tell me that she’d had a miracle. Of course, I knew what she was talking about before she even told me. She said he’d just showed up at the apartment to tell her he’d managed to get the house back and wanted to know his real mother. She was real teary. Hell, you might even think she had a heart in there. Course, could be that she was finally getting to live in the LaViere place.” He winced and added, “Sorry, Worth.”
“Don’t be. That was my mother’s doing and I hold no sentiments over it. I just want the son of a bitch, sorry Auggie, out of here.”
I smiled. “Don’t be,” I echoed.
My mother was no one’s favorite person. She’d raised me with an iron fist and tried to belittle me every chance she got. I fought her at every turn, often staying away for long periods of time. Even college at UK wasn’t far enough. The only reason I ever came home was to be with Dad.
Years ago, when Mother had gotten pregnant by Worth LaViere, II, she’d run to Florida to stay with her aunt and have the baby. Dad married her out of nobility, and I think he was in love with her at the time. It was his chance to be the knight in shining armor, even if she never did see him in that light. She’d put the baby up immediately for adoption.
What she didn’t know was that Worth’s father wanted the baby, his heir, albeit illegitimate, but he didn’t want Mother. He’d married Worth’s mother shortly thereafter and the baby, Linc, had become the object of the switch we’d just recently learned about.
“What do you suppose he’s up to?” Dad speculated.
“He’s after my birthright,” Worth said calmly. “Other than my mother, my wife, and child, he’s welcomed to it,” he added in a voice of bravado that fell short of covering his sense of violation.
“Dad, can you stand it if she’s just down the road?” I asked.
“Stood her being in my bed, guess down the road will be just a little quieter.” Dad always chose to look on the bright side of things. “How’s that new clinic going, Worth?” Dad always kept track of things and showed he cared enough to ask.
“Just fine, sir. In fact, I hired a doctor just this last week.”
I looked at him, surprised. “You never mentioned that.”
“I didn’t? Guess I got busy with other things,” Worth said absently.
“Dad, we’re riding over to Lexington to look over some farms for ideas. Want to ride along?”
“No, you kids go on. I’d like to keep an eye on the place. For all I know, your mother will be sending that moving van down this way to pick up a few things she knows she can’t have.” He chuckled.
I was glad he could find humor in the situation. It made things so much easier.
We left and spent the afternoon prowling some farms. I knew most of the owners and stopped by to say hello and admire what they’d done. They were only too glad to show off their places. Horses and farms were a source of pride.
On the long drive home, I started thinking about the heaviness in our atmosphere at home and had an idea. “Worth? What would you say to our having a Derby party? We’re not going to the track this year and things are far enough along at the estate that we could have a nice barbecue. It’s sort of mine to inherit, you know? Both our mothers were famous for them, as well as Mrs. Jessup. In fact, I’ll bet she would come over to the house for the day and invite all her friends. It could be a good business move as well, you know?”
Worth smiled and looked sideways at me. “Sweetheart, I think that’s an absolutely inspired idea. Take the checkbook and do it up right. Leave me a few places to fill on the guest list too.
I sat back and began mentally planning, quite pleased that I’d come up with the idea. I didn’t realize that Worth was already planning his own version at the same time.
***
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than my Kentucky in the spring. The Derby was always the first Saturday in May. I could remember years when the celebrities who attended flew in and promptly traded their flouncing hats for fur coats, but the weather was usually warm, if not hot. Derby seats came at a premium. Indeed, they were passed down through the family. The ordinary citizen could only hope to get into the infield, but that was an entirely different kind of party. You had to arrive hours early and bring your own seats and food. Liquor wasn’t permitted but, naturally, that rule prompted any number of creative methods of smuggling it in. People in the infield seldom even saw a single horse in the race. It was a free for all party that often included the worst decadence.
Many people don’t realize that Derby Day wasn’t a single race. Instead, eight to ten of them filled the day, beginning around noon. It peaked at the Derby itself about five o’clock and then wrapped up the following races until dark.
Nor was Derby Day the only celebration for that week. Up to three weeks before the big day, one or more significant events were held every day, beginning with Thunder Over Louisville, a mammoth fireworks demonstration. There were parades as well as a relay between restaurant servers carrying a glass of wine on trays called Run for the Rosé. The Saturday before Derby dawned with the Great Balloon Race, where sometimes hundreds of hot air balloons lifted off to catch the hare balloon some miles away. There was also a steamboat race between the Belle of Louisville and a competitor, most years the Belle of Cincinnati.
All the events were heavily attended so many Louisvillians chose to have private parties, often barbecues. The better parties had entertainment, including a bookie who would accept bets for the day’s races. The best parties often were held post-race and included the celebrities who had attended at Churchill Downs.