Chapter Seven – The Light

Evelyn watched as Nick drove away to work, waving until she could no longer see him. Twisting her hair into a bun, she reentered the house and headed for the enormous pile of laundry that had to be folded and put away. Heaving a sigh, she got to work and completed the task within record time when she heard a knock on the door.

"Hmm," she muttered, setting aside the now empty basket and smoothing out any wrinkles in her skirt before going to answer the door. Opening it, she found herself face to face with Jay Gatsby, dressed to impress in a morning grey suit. "Somehow I knew it would be you," she grinned, watching him as he returned he gesture.

"I do hope I'm not intruding," he started.

"Please," she cut him off. "What I wouldn't give for a few intrusions when all the company I have is a bucket load of laundry."

He chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Well, then, perhaps I might be able to convince you to come over to my home for a moment? You see, I'm expecting some guests and I was hoping I could ask you to make a cake to serve with some tea when they arrive."

"I'd love to," she beamed, delighted at the opportunity to be with Gatsby as well as bake. "But your guests won't see me, will they-?"

"And why shouldn't they?"

"Well, I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion, especially not if I'm going to be baking, and secondly there's no reason for them to see m-"

"Of course there!" he insisted, taking her hand in his and completing his usual ritual of kissing it. "You're a dear friend and I would be honored to introduce you to them. They're a respectable family, but none of the kind we happened to see in the restaurant yesterday," he winked.

Giggling, she shook her head and sighed in defeat. "Just give me a moment to grab some things…" Inviting him into the parlor, she dashed off to her room and grabbed a soft red dress that Desiree had chosen for her ages ago along with matching shoes and placed them into a side satchel before tossing in her hairbrush, some ribbons, and her notebook in which she kept all her favorite recipes from home. "Ready," she called out to him as she shut the bag and slug it over her shoulder. Stepping out to meet him, she led him to the door and grabbed the keys, locking it behind them before they turned to go.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm to her.

She accepted, letting him led her through the lawn to the back entrance of the estate. Upon entering the mansion, Herzog appeared with two glasses of orange juice.

"Ms. Keller, may I interest you in some refreshments?" he asked in his gravelly voice.

"You're too kind, Mr. Herzog," she smiled brightly, accepting the glasses, handing one of them to Gatsby.

The butler cracked a smile at this. He had told her several times upon her visits that she did not need to treat him formally, but she insisted on being polite and the truth was he rather liked it. He found her charming and he knew his master was extremely fond of the young woman as well. He sincerely hoped that the girl would continue to be a part of their lives, even after Gatsby reunited with Daisy. That was all he could do, really…hope and keep silent…

"The kitchen is at your disposal," Herzog informed them. "Please notify me if there is anything I can do for you."

"Thank you," Gatsby nodded, grinning as Evelyn placed a kiss on the butler's cheek before dragging him away to get started. He caught the man's eye and winked before turning his attention back to the girl that tugged him excitedly into the kitchen. "He's not accustomed to gestures like that, but personally, I think he likes it when you kiss and hug him."

"He's like a fatherly figure who's much too stiff," Evelyn laughed, emitting a small squeak of delight when she saw the baking goods and measuring items laid out for her on the table. "You have an amazing staff! And the quality of these ingredients-!"

"Only the best for you and my guests," he said, heading to a chair that held a fluttering, lace-lined rose-pink apron. Grabbing it, he handed it to her when the shrill cry of the telephone sounded in the air. He frowned at this, knowing it had to be about business.

"You'd better take care of that," she encouraged him, placing the fabric over her body. Nodding her head to the door, she smiled and promised, "Don't worry, I'll still be here when you get back."

Chuckling, he excused himself, leaving her to get to work.

Immediately, she immersed herself in work, following the instructions in her book. Having more than enough ingredients, she began to make a second batch to make cupcakes. By the time she was taking the cake out and putting the cupcakes into the oven, she was already working on icing.

"Something smells good," she heard Gatsby say as he reentered the room.

"I hope it tastes just as good as it smells," she added, working to whip the cream, sugar, and vanilla to create the thick frosting she loved on this particular cake.

"I know it will," he smiled. "Mmh, frosting!"

"Here," she grinned, scooping a small spoonful and feeding it to him. "What do you think?"

"Mm…I'm not sure, I might need another dose just to make sure," he joked, tapping his chin in thought as he mischievously raised an eyebrow.

Laughing, she tapped the frosting with her finger and smeared it on his nose.

"My God, how dare she!" Gatsby could hear a servant hissing as she hid behind the door. "Has she no fear of the master? Doesn't she respect him?!"

"On the contrary," Herzog's voice came suddenly, causing the woman to squeak in fright and embarrassment. "She respects and admires Mr. Gatsby, and he in turn respects and admires her. Now, what are you supposed to be doing?"

Wiping the frosting off of his face, he ate it with a smile, tossing a pinch of flour at the girl, ignoring the servant's comments. It was all true – Evelyn treated him as a person, regardless of who he was and what their social statuses were, and he loved it. He craved it, this feeling of being free and happy and not caring what he did because she wouldn't judge him. The best of all of this was that he knew she was being true to herself; she never put on a face or attitude and acted as if she were another person as so many rich folk did. He longed to share his secrets with her, about a man named James Gatz…but it wasn't time.

"Mr. Gatsby, sir…? Oh, my." Herzog's eyes became huge as he intruded the flour fight that Gatsby and Evelyn had started. Struggling to hide his shock and amusement, he stated, "Mr. Whitner and his family have arrived-"

"I smell cake!"

The small, high-pitched voice with a British accent sing out through the air as a dark-haired child ran into the kitchen and up to the couple. The little girl couldn't have been any older than five, missing a tooth on her lower set of teeth but showing off a beautiful, innocent smile. "Hullo! Are you Mrs. Gatsby? Or the cook?"

Evelyn couldn't hold back a laugh as she shook her head, trying to rub the flour off of her face. "Neither, I'm afraid," she giggled, kneeling down and offering her hand. "I'm Evelyn Keller, Mr. Gatsby's neighbor."

"And a very dear friend," Gatsby added with smile.

"Winny!" a pair of voices drifted in, the two parents stepping into the room and stopping dead in the tracks upon seeing the mess. "Oh my…" the mother gaped.

"It wasn't me this time!" the child, Winny, protested.

"A-ha…I see," the man grinned impishly. "Tell me, Jay, are we interrupting anything?"

~JG~

Daisy's voice fluttered through the phone into Nick's ear as he spoke with her. "Yes, that's right, tomorrow at 4. Is that alright?"

"Tea at your place? But of course, my lovely!"

"And Daisy, please come alone. Don't bring Tom. Don't even tell him you're coming." He was worried if Tom found out what was going on everything would be ruined, but Daisy may find this arrangement a little odd…

"Tom? Tom who?" came the giggling response.

Giving a breath of relief, he said his goodbyes and well-wishes before he hung up and turned his attention to the beautiful young woman sitting on the corner of his desk.

"Ready for lunch?" Desiree asked, smiling coyly at him.

"Let me grab my hat," Nick chuckled, taking his jacket, hat, and wallet before offering his arm and leading her away from the office.

"I know a little place nearby, Nick. The food's good and the prices are fair."

"What, you think I'm that poor?"

"No, but if I asked you to take me to The Roman Gardens, you wouldn't be able to purchase a single drink."

"Touché." Taking the elevator, they waited as it slowly took them down to the main floor. "…you're not…ashamed that I'm…?"

"Not rich? Don't be silly." Standing on her toes, she pecked his cheek, earning a smile from him. "I don't care about money. True, it's very helpful, but I'd take you over Teddy Mason any day."

"Teddy who?"

"That fellow who stole Jordan away at Gatsby's party a week ago."

"Oh, him." He shrugged exiting the elevator with her.

"I thought you liked her, you know."

"Who? Evelyn?"

"Goodness, no! Jordan."

Nick laughed, kissing her temple. "She scares me a little to be perfectly honest."

"I can understand that," she nodded. "She's intimidating." Pointing the way out, she smiled as she felt him cautiously grip her hand. Squeezing his to show she accepted, she took him into the establishment and they were served at once. "Tell me, Nick," she said as they took their seats and waited for the server to return. "Have you always been into bonds? I mean, did you know that was what you wanted to do…?"

He shook his head with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Um, no…I actually hoped that I would write books someday."

"Well, why don't you?" she asked, placing her chin atop her hands as she watched and listened with interest.

"I don't know…there's no…no inspiration, I suppose," he shrugged. "I used to write for the college newspaper, but I had reasons to write, there were events, debates, and so forth…if I write a book, I want it to be special…people will pick it up and become engrossed, they'll be intrigued…they'll be inspired and never forget it."

Desiree stared at him, saying nothing, absorbing everything he said and watching his face.

He gave a nervous chuckle and stammered, "B-But, that's just…a dream, right?"

"America was built on dreams, wasn't it?" she asked. "Books are made from life's experiences and dreams people have of their work being published and shared…" Reaching out, she grasped his hand and smiled. "When you find that inspiration, I'll be there to support you."

~JG~

"She's a darling," cooed Mary Whitner as she watched Evelyn helping her daughter to frost a cupcake. "How did you ever find her?"

"She found me," Gatsby smiled.

"I come here to show you some new ideas they'll be making for clothing in England and here you are covered in flour with a charming little stranger," Jonah Whitner laughed. "And this cake is divine!"

"She says it's an old family recipe," Gatsby informed them, biting into his own slice.

"Jay, are you and Ms. Keller…?" Whitner began.

"No…no, we're not," he responded, glancing back at her. He sounded almost reluctant to utter the word. But it was Daisy he pined for, and Daisy he would have come tomorrow afternoon.

"Look, Mummy! Evelyn said we can take these home! I frosted these!" Winny called as she ran to her mother and showed her a basket full of the sweets.

"Oh my goodness, darling!" Mary exclaimed, embracing her daughter and kissing her forehead. "They look wonderful!"

"I get to keep them, right?" Whitner grinned.

"Nope!" Winny smiled sweetly.

Having changed into her red dress and cleaned off her face, Evelyn looked like a sophisticated young woman, not a flour-coated servant. Grinning at the family, she said, "I'm really very sorry about earlier, but your daughter is such an angel!"

"Well, most of the time," Mary grimaced.

"You're sure you won't stay longer, old sport?" Gatsby asked, getting up as the British family arose from their seats.

"No, I'm afraid I can't," he shook his head. "I have to visit a relative, and I promised Winny we would look at the Statue of Liberty after stopping by Beckingdale's Toy Store."

"Yay!" Winny cheered, causing the adults to laugh.

"Well then, we wish you well. Until next time, old sport." Gatsby shook hands with Whitner, kissed Mary's cheek, then spun Winny around. "There's a surprise for you in the car," he whispered in her ear, causing her to light up at once.

"Thank you, Jay!" she squealed, embracing him tightly. Before running off, she tackled Evelyn, compelling the woman to kneel down and hug her. "Promise me you'll be back on our next visit and show me how to make cupcakes?" she asked innocently.

"Well, I can't promise anything, but I certainly will try," Evelyn responded honestly, accepting a hug from the child. "Be good, Winny. Goodbye!"

Gatsby and Evelyn saw them off, laughing once more as Winny screamed in delight upon seeing a beautiful porcelain doll from Gatsby in their car. Together they waved as the car took off, shrinking in the distance.

"They're a lovely family," Evelyn commented.

"They are indeed," Gatsby agreed, slipping his hands into his pockets. Facing her, he raised an eyebrow and gave a coy smile. "They were rather taken with you."

"Me?!" she scoffed. "Really? After seeing me covered in flour? Speaking of which, I'm so sorry about-"

"I'd like to thank you," he grinned. "That was the most fun I've had in a long time."

"More fun than the hydroplane?" she asked, skeptical.

"Much more," he chuckled. Looking her in the eye, he asked, "How would you like to join me on a little trip to Coney Island before returning and getting ready for the party tonight?"

"Right now?" she asked, her hair falling over her eyes as the wind playfully passed by. Reaching for her face, he tucked her coppery auburn locks away, causing her face to blossom into a bright pink shade. "Right now." Winking, he turned and ordered Herzog to bring out the car, offered his arm to Evelyn once more and led her to the fountain as they waited.

"I'm afraid it needs more gas," Herzog informed him once it was brought out.

"We'll take care of it," Gatsby replied. Helping Evelyn into the car, they drove out of West Egg. Little by little, she could see the Valley of Ashes becoming closer and closer. Pulling over to the side, he stopped the car upon arriving at a humble, run-down gas station. Cleaning a car part on the porch was the owner, a handsome but filthy man who seemed to have no hope or happiness in his eyes. Upon seeing them pull up, he set the part down and hurried to them.

"Need more gas?" he offered politely.

"Fill her up, old sport," Gatsby nodded.

As he got to work, he glanced at Evelyn and asked, "…didn't you come off the train about a week ago?"

"Yes…" she admitted with uncertainty.

"A fella named Nick Carraway took you," he stated, causing both Gatsby and Evelyn to gawk at him.

"How did you-?" she asked.

"Mr. Carraway was with Mr. Buchanan a few days back, they stopped by to say hello," he explained. "Mr. Buchanan mentioned you."

"Did he?" she frowned, not liking the idea of that scumbag adulterer mentioning her to anyone.

"Yeah…your friend said you came from Kansas." He gave a shy smile and added, "I'm from there, too. Moved out here in hopes of making some nice money for me and my wife, Myrtle."

Her brows furrowed at the mention of the woman's name, the memory of Nick mentioning her and the name of her poor husband who had no idea what was going on. "Oh! You're George Wilson!" she exclaimed. "Yes, Nick mentioned you."

"How's business these days?" Gatsby asked, noticing how desolate it was.

"Oh, we get by," he shrugged. "It's a nice car ya got, sir."

"Thanks. Haven't you got something to use?"

"Been waiting on Mr. Buchanan…says he's got a car he'll give me but he's always got someone working on it," he mumbled.

Gatsby scratched his chin in contemplation, his brows knitting together as he thought. "…listen here, old sport – Wilson, is it? – I've got an appointment tomorrow afternoon, but I can drop by in the morning and show you a car I've got no use for that's in good condition if you're interested."

Wilson's jaw almost dropped, but he quickly stammered, "W-well, I don't wanna cause any trouble, Mister…?"

"Gatsby. Jay Gatsby. And it's no trouble at all."

"I won't be taken for a fool-"

"I give you my word as an honest gentleman that I will be here at nine o'clock sharp with that car." Offering the man his hand, he asked, "Do we have an agreement?"

He hesitantly reach for Gatsby but faltered. "I…I can't pay off-"

"It'll be a gift, and you'd do me a favor by taking it off my hands, old sport," he insisted.

A small smile began to grow as hope shone in his sad blue eyes. He shook Gatsby's hand, thanking him profusely before wrapping up the job and charging Gatsby for the gas.

"Keep the change," Gatsby smiled, tipping his hat at him. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Wilson." Driving off, he watched from the corner of his eye as Evelyn waved goodbye to Wilson.

"He looks like a good man, that Wilson fellow," Gatsby commented.

"He does," she nodded. "There's something about his eyes and chin that remind me of my father." Turning to Gatsby, she grinned and said, "You never fail to surprise me, Jay. That was a good thing you did back there."

"Well, if you say so-" he started, stopping as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I say so."

~JG~

Nick and Desiree squeezed through the crowd as they had done so the last time they were there. Having found no sign of Evelyn at the cottage that evening, Desiree suggested that they try Gatsby's, bringing them to step through the masses in the backyard of Gatsby's massive home.

"Excuse me, Herzog!" Nick called, catching sight of the butler. "Herzog!"

"Mr. Carraway, Ms. Lancaster." Herzog nodded, going to them at once. "What can I do for you?"

"Have you seen Evelyn, or Jay?" Nick asked, having to strain his voice over the music.

"Ms. Keller came over this afternoon and spend a few hours here before leaving with Mr. Gatsby to Coney Island," he responded, stunning the couple.

"Looks like Jay kept her busy," Desiree winked.

"Indeed," he nodded with a hint of a smile on his straight lips. "They returned an hour ago-"

"Nick, old sport! Desiree!" Gatsby materialized out of nowhere, startling everyone except Herzog.

"Shall I get you some refreshments?" the servant asked politely.

"No, thank you," Nick shook his head, Desiree mimicking him. They watched him as he excused himself and left before returning their attention to Gatsby. Squinting through the party lights, Nick offered Gatsby his hand. "We were wondering where you and Evelyn were."

"Sorry about that, old sport," Gatsby chuckled, shaking hands with his friend. "I took her to Coney Island."

"Did you now?" Desiree smirked.

"She wanted to come in and sing tonight, at least for a few hours. She should be-"

"I've seen the world,

Done it all,

Had my cake now.

Diamonds, brilliant

And Bel Air now.

Hot summer nights, mid-July,

When you and I were forever wild.

The crazy days, city lights,

The way you'd play with me like a child."

Gatsby froze, seeming statue-like as the words floated above their heads. Nick and Desiree listened, enchanted, before all three of them turned their heads to face the stage. Standing straight before the crowds, dressed in a midnight blue gown that glittered like the stars above and flowed around her ankles was Evelyn, her hair curled and cascading all around her face as she closed her eyes and sang.

"Will you still love me

When I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me

When I got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will,

I know that you will…

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"

"She's amazing!" Desiree whispered, beaming as she watched her friend, so elegant and dazzling.

"She really is," Nick grinned. Offering his hand, he asked, "May I have this dance?"

Slipping her hand into his, she let him lead her away before wrapping her arms around his neck and swaying to the music.

"So, you think Jay will ever realize?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her beau.

"Realize what?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Men are so dense."

"I've seen the world, lit it up

As my stage now.

Channeling angels in the new age now.

Hot summer days, rock 'n' roll –

The way you play for me at your show,

And all the ways I got to know

Your pretty face and electric soul!"

Gatsby kept his eyes on her as she sang the words, watching her sway along with the music from the band as she tucked a rogue strand of hair from her face. As she looked out to the audience – some people gawking at her in awe, others moving in time with their loved ones to the soft, wavering tones – her eyes met his, and he found himself walking to her.

"Will you still love me

When I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me

When I got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will,

I know that you will…

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"

Standing before her, Gatsby lifted his arm, his palm facing skyward. The message was clear, and for some reason he couldn't comprehend, he felt as though his life depended on the response she would give him.

Her small, smooth hand slipped into his, their eyes still locked on one another, as she stepped down from the stage and stood before him. Cautiously wrapping his arm around her waist, the feeling of her free hand on his shoulder sent sparks through him. As he guided her on the dance floor, he could sense all eyes on them, but he in turn only had eyes for her.

"Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven…

Please let me bring my man!

When he comes tell me that you'll let him in,

Father tell me if you can.

Oh, that grace, oh that body!

Oh, that face makes me wanna party.

He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds…"

Chills traveled through his spine as he listened to the words she sang to him – she had to be singing them to him, why else would she look at him so intently with every word?! – compelling him to pull her in closer to his body.

"Will you still love me

When I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me

When I got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will, I know you will,

I know that you will…

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful…?"

Their bodies slowed as the song drifted to its end, their faces nearing for a moment before they both pulled away, suddenly realizing what was happening. Still, his heart ached as he listened to her.

"Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful…?"

Behind her, the green light from Daisy's dock blinked, causing Evelyn to be engulfed its glow, as though it were her aura.

"Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful…?"


A/N: I own nothing but the OCs and fluff. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and a big thanks to those who follow and fave the story. Hope you enjoyed it and I'll see you at the next chapter!