Moonlight and Roses (5 page)

Their first Christmas proved to be both a wonderful and worrisome time. Dinner parties, gallery cocktail parties and painting occupied most of Caroline’s time. Brad, in charge of the family’s investments, traveled frequently to Boston to meet with financial advisors and brokers. The White family money was substantial, well over one hundred million dollars, and caring for and growing their investme
nts was a heavy burden on Brad.

Sondra occasionally joined Caroline for dinner when Brad was out of town and the two women established a peaceful co-existence. Sondra soon found Caroline to be warm and caring, a great relief to the mother of a wealthy son. Linda visited often, staying in the apricot guest room for a weekend or to keep Caroline company when Brad traveled. Though she tried to hide it, Caroline could see that her mother was ill and she grew concerned. One evening, Caroline confronted Linda,
who broke down and told her daughter the truth about her illness.

“C
ancer?” Caroline’s heart raced.

“It’s in remission now, Caroline,” Linda said.

Caroline looked open-mouthed at her mother.

“And when were you going to tell me?”

“You’ve been so busy, adjusting to marriage, painting, socializing…I didn’t want to be a burden. So they’ve got it and it’s not going anywhere. Sort of an early Christmas present.”

Caroline smiled weakly at her mother’s joke but her brow furrowed with apprehension. While she had grown used to Sondra and things were fine with B
rad, her mother was her anchor.

Linda and Caroline set about decorating the house for Christmas, no small chore in a residence so vast. With eight bedrooms, six baths, a study, formal living room, sun room, den, kitchen, dining room, breakfast room, foyer and Caroline’s art studio, many yards of garlands and swag as well as several Christmas trees were needed. Ornaments were bought by the case and several staff members were recruited to assist. Harry lugged in supplies day after day as Caroline planned a small family party for Christmas Eve. Linda helped her shop for presents. Her special gift to Sondra was a portrait made from one of Brad’s favorite pictures of his mother and a portrait of Brad.

While Caroline was feeling the spirit of Christmas, a nagging doubt still plagued her. She was still waiting to feel the crazy hot love for Brad she had hoped would develop within their marriage. Although she enjoyed making love with her husband and he appeared to crave her almost constantly, it didn’t seem to be enough for her a
nd she wondered if he noticed.

“Only red roses for the house this month, Nancy,” Caroline said into the phone to the florist.

Linda brought a plate of fruit and cheese into the den to join Caroline as they poured over
lists and selected decorations.

“We will need holly, mistletoe and evergreen boughs…oh, tons of those, you know the front hall stairs, right I want to cover the railing. When? Fine,” she said and hung up the phone.

“Everything on schedule?” Linda asked her.

Caroline took a hard look at her mother. “You look pale.”

“Being cooped up all the time…winter sun…you know,” Linda said, turning away.

“Let’s go away after the holiday. Somewhere sunny.”

“But you’ve got painting to do,” Linda protested.

“I’m almost finished with the three for Madison Duguey and nothing else is due until March. I have time.”

“Will your ardent husband want you gone?” Linda said, hiding a chuckle behind her hand.

“Absence makes the heart…and everything else…grow fonder. Besides, he’s got a business trip coming up anyway. He’ll never miss me.”

****

The Christmas Eve party was perfect. Everyone proved themselves to be in a festive mood,
with no shortage of good cheer.

Brad scooped Caroline off to bed early so they could have some time alone. After he made love to her
enthusiastically, taking his time to revel in her softness, beauty and responsivness,
he went to his closet and pulled out a box.

“I have a special present for you,” he said.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the box move.

“Go ahead, open it.”

She tore off the top and found an adorable pug puppy inside.

“A puppy! She’s so cute! Thank you,” she said, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Don’t want you lonely when I’m away, or anyone else warming your bed…” he said.

She gave him a sharp look.

“That would never happen,” she stated.

A smiled curled the corners of his mouth as he picked up the puppy and placed her in Caroline’s arms.

“What are you going to name her?”

She bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment. “Trixie. I’m going to call her Trixie.”

He laughed and stroked the tiny pug. Caroline gave him a kiss which turned passionate, and they made love again, while the new puppy curled up in her little box and went back to sleep.

The next year was spent in a whirlwind of parties, gallery openings and painting. Caroline viewed her painting as if it were a regular job and disappeared into her studio every day to paint. During the year, her mother’s condition worsened. Brad consented to having Linda moved into their house where Caroline watched her die over the next six months.

Caroline’s deep pain began to reflect in her paintings which became soulful and melancholy. Brad urged her to change her theme because her sales fell dramatically but he was unsuccessful. In January, Linda died. Caroline was inconsolable for months, wandering the frozen grounds of the estate like a lost puppy. Trixie brought consolation to her mistress, staying by her side at all times, especially when Brad
was away.

When the spring flowers came out, she began to sketching the budding flowers on the grounds. She recalled how much her mother loved spring flowers and decided to memorialize her with paintings. She translated her and her mother’s love of spring into her art and her paintings gained fresh life. Slowl
y, her art began to sell again.

As her career took off again, Caroline noticed Brad traveled more. He was frequently out of the house two nights a week at dinners with patrons, investors and gallery owners. Caroline never questioned why she was not invited along on these excursions. Secretly, she was relieved to have dinner with Trixie and curl up with a bo
ok or watch a movie by herself.

Brad could be overbearing and controlling, always pushing her to paint more and being critical of her social skills. She had given up on the crazy, mad love feeling and convinced herself
she was content with her life as it was. She put up with Brad, enjoyed the rich lifestyle, although she was acutely conscious
something was missing.

Several women, wives of his friends, took her into their social circle though she didn’t have much in common with them. She went to lunch with them occasionally, and on shopping trips to the toniest stores. Sometimes they planned cocktail parties together. Caroline felt like an outsider, a poor relative. She couldn’t help but wonder, if she wasn’t with Brad, would this group of women even say “hello” to her wh
en their paths crossed in town?

Caroline spent more and more time alone. She began to think about her past, happier times with her family. She missed her mother, her best friend and trusted confid
ant
, terribly and became strongly attached to Trixie, her little pug companion. She took the small dog with her everywhere when Harry was available to drive. He watched the pooch while Caroline was in a store or restaurant. Brad complained about the amount of money being spent cleaning dog hair from the Bentley, but Caroline ignored him. Lately he seemed to complain about everything.

****

On their third anniversary, Brad was an hour late for dinner. He came in obviously tipsy and Caroline was sure she could smell Chanel No. 5 on his jacket. He smiled broadly and presented her with a diamond necklace.

“For you, beautiful wife,” he said, slurring his words slightly before sinking heavily into a chair in the living room.

Caroline handed him her gift, a small canvas, wrapped. He ripped open the paper to find a portrait of himself she painted from a favorite picture.

“This is great, Caroline, but it won’t go for much.”

“It’s not for sale, it’s for you. For your study. A picture of my mentor, Bradley the great,” she said.

“Is that a slam?”

“Are you an hour late?”

“And if I am?”

“Smelling like another woman’s perfume?”

“Do I? Must have been a woman at the jewelry store…”

“Harry picked up your present this afternoon, Brad, so don’t try to tell me you were there picking it out. I’m sure Sylvia called in the order and Harry picked it up. You almost looked as surprised as I did when I opened the box.”

“Ungrateful! Give it back if you don’t want it. I’m sure I can find another woman who will gladly accept it…and give me something in return
,
”
He sneered at her, taking a big swig of his gin and tonic.

“You get that whenever you ask here, too!” she shot back
, whirling around to face him.

“But I have to ask, don’t I?”
He replied grabbing her in a tight grip around her upper arm.

“What do you mean?”
She asked, stepping back but caught in his vise-like grip.

“You don’t come to me for sex, Caroline. You don’t have the hots for me, do you?”
He asked, releasing her arm.

“I enjoy our sex life…what little there is with you gone so much
,
”
She responded, unconsciously rubbing her arm where he gripped it.

“That’s news to me,” Brad countered
, banging his drink on the coffee table sloshing some onto the fine wood.

She moved to the open French doors and stood still, letting the soft June breeze ruffle her long hair, but she didn’t say a word.

“That’s okay. Not every woman feels that way about me. There are plenty of women who crave my…attention.”

She turned to face him, tears in her eyes.
“And do you…give it to them?”

“Am I unfaithful? Never! I would never do anything to lose you, my lovely talented lady, would I?” he lied.

“That’s all I am to you, Brad, an artist, someone you can mold, brag about. Someone who gives you entrée into the world of art. The truth is, the desire has never been there on
your
part. Perhaps if you loved me…passionately…I would return the feeling,” she said.

“Passion fades, Caroline. Success is forever.”

Caroline walked to the entrance of the dining room and stopped. “Dinner has been waiting for an hour. I suppose you want another drink.” She sniffed,
staring at the half-empty tall glass.
Although
I doubt you
need one.”

“I would love another drink. Harry!” he called
, a defiant expression on his face.

The servant appeared almost immediately.

“Harry, another
gin and tonic
. Bring it to the table, since my wife informs me dinner is served.”

Harry gave a short bow and left the room. Caroline walked into the dining r
oom with Brad right behind her.

By the end of the fourth year of their marriage, Caroline ate dinner alone five nights a week. Brad always offered some plausible excuse for being away, and
she knew
they were always lies, so Caroline simply stopped ask
ing.

But filling her evenings with friends, galleries and reading weren’t enough for Caroline. Sometimes she’d wander through the many rooms of the grand house at night, trying to find the answer to the puzzle that was her life.

It became clear she and Brad were leading separate lives. Her loneliness, temporarily assuaged by her shallow friends, only grew. Finding no answer to her frustration, she adjusted, the way she always had in the past, and soon living with sadness became normal. Trixie provided some companionship and Caroline’s attachment to the small dog grew.

She tried buying fancier clothes, sexier clothes, but nothing seemed to tempt Brad into staying at home with his wife. When he
was
home, he drank, often to excess. Sometimes he would fall asleep or pass out without making love to Caroline. When they did go to bed together, Caroline went through the motions, tr
ying to feel something for him.

When Brad picked up on her restlessness, he rearranged his schedule to be home more. He bought a small gift, took Caroline to dinner and the theater and paid her compliments. His increased attentions were designed to keep her off kilter, feeling like she was wrong about him, renewing her hope their marriage could be saved. As soon as she cheered up, cooked his favorite dinners and made romantic plans, he would disappear again, to
leave her bereft and confused.

****

Harry watched Brad maintain his balancing act, knowing what his boss was up to. He was instructed to clean out the car after Brad’s exploits, discreetly disposing of pieces of lingerie, jewelry, cosmetics or any other signs a woman who was not Mrs. Bradley Riordan White recently rode in the Bentley. He hated it more than anything else he was told to do on the White estate. But he did what he was told.

After one unusually unpleasant encounter between Caroline and Brad over dinner, Harry found a diamond earring in the car. As he prepared to give it to Brad to return to its rightful owner, a bitter taste rose in his throat at his part in this nasty deceit. He slipped the e
arring into his pocket instead.

Later that afternoon, he picked up Caroline and Trixie from the beauty salon. Caroline looked exceptionally beautiful and Harry smiled shyly at her. Though he was a happily married man, he had a slight crush on the lovely artist. Her gentle ways and sweet demeanor, always respectful of Harry and his family, touched his heart. He hated being part of the charade to keep Mrs. White in the dark about Brad’s peccadilloes. Today, his part in these lies was over.

After he pulled up at the front door and opened the door for Caroline and the rambunctious pug, he spoke up.

“Found this in the Bentley, Miss. Thought it must be yours and quite valuable. Wouldn’t want to lose something like this, eh?” he asked, holding up the single earring.

Caroline took it from his hand and examined it closely.

“Why, Harry, I don’t think…”she started, then blushed when she realized it wasn’t one of hers.

“Will you be needing the car tonight, Miss?” he asked, training his gaze away from her.

She shook her head.

With a slight nod of his head, Harry got back in the car and pulled it into the garage. Her face grim, her eyes filling with tears, Caroline slipped into the house and closed herself and Trixie in her studio. She put on musi
c to drown out the crying.

At five thirty, Harry drove to pick up Brad at the country club where he often went for happy hour. This night he consumed three drinks before he got in the car with Harry. The driver tried to keep a straight face and avoid Brad’s gaze in the rearview mirror but a small smile played at the corner of his mouth.

“Got a good joke, Harry? Something dirty? Spill it.”

“No, sir. Had a pleasant day, that’s all.”

“I’ll take a martini when we get home, Harry.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry dropped Brad at the front door and took the car around to the garage then went inside to fix the martini and get ready to go home. Josie, the cook, would take over and serve
dinner and clean up afterward.

Harry brought the martini in and placed it on the coffee table. Brad nodded at him as Harry went to his little closet to gather his things and return to his wife and family. He walked quietly, anticipating a verbal explosion from the living room. He didn’t want to miss a word.

A frozen-faced Caroline gave her husband a steely stare as he approached her and kissed her on the cheek.

“You’re looking beautiful tonight, Caroline,” Brad said, picking up his martini.

Caroline pulled the earring out of the pocket of her cream silk pants and held it up.

“Hmm? Did you lose an earring?” he asked.

“This doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to one of your girlfriends,” she stated
, “I would never wear anything this garish…and you know that.”

Brad choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering. He stared at the earring, his mind working as fast as it could with so much alcohol running through his system. He looked at the earring. Caroline moved it out of his reach, but he stepped closer to her.

“You must be kidding.”

She stared at him and did not answer.

“It’s—it’s
not garish, it’s
one I got for you. Where is the other one? Where did you get this?”

Harry stopped putting on his jacket and held his breath.

“I found it in the Bentley,” she
said, covering for Harry
.

He let out the air he was holding in his lungs and smiled.

“Where is the other one? This is an expensive set,” Brad said, walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

He
needed time to invent a story, a plausible story. Brad started to sweat.
“Out to look in the car for the other earring.”
he said, quickly
exiting the room.

When he got outside, Brad opened his cell phone and dialed.

“Harvey, Harvey, Brad. I need you to create one diamond earring for me, right away. What? I don’t care how much. I’ll bring the mate by first thing tomorrow. You can? Great,” he said, closing his phone.

Harry walked by looking at Brad. A frowned creased his forehead and his brows knitted.

Brad smiled and said to the evening air around him, “Good try. No evidence. No divorce. You’ll never catch me and never leave me. No White has been divorced in…in…ever. And we’re not about to start now.”

Brad tossed off the rest of his drink and headed back inside.

“Good night , Harry,” he said.

“Good night sir,” Harry said with a sigh.