Secrecy (3 page)

So the quiet talk resumed. Maybe, then, everything would be all right? And her butterflies would stop flickering? Or maybe she should simply get used to the way things were and not always be so scared that something was going to
happen
.

Cliff and Claudia were also having a tray before their fire, eating leftovers and drinking wine. The guests were gone, the caterers had made everything tidy again, and Ted had gone out with friends, leaving the newlywed couple alone in their home. Their relationship now, after two years, was at last official under one roof.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Claudia said.

“It’s just beginning. We have to make an early start for the Boston airport tomorrow. Then, Rome, here we come.”

Claudia laid her hand over Cliff’s. “I almost hate to leave this house. You can’t know how thrilled I am. You and this wonderful house—I’m in paradise.”

“It’s funny,” he said, “I’ve lived all my life here, and although I know it’s a pretty big place, I never felt that it was too big until you came along. I used to fill it up with business guests, or visiting relatives, and was glad to have the space. But after the day I walked into that bookstore and got to know you, this house became as empty as a strange hotel.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “I’d never realized I was lonesome.”

“Thirty-eight years and never married—”

He laughed. “Until I found the irresistible woman.” And then, becoming suddenly grave, he said, “I want all your worries to be over. Now that you’re rid of the store, I want you to stay home here and relax. Do nothing.”

“I can’t imagine ‘doing nothing,’ Cliff.”

“You’ve got that little heart problem—”

“For which exercise and work are the best medicines.”

“Well, cook some good meals, do some volunteering, and that’s work enough. I order you.”

She was not used to being cared for this way, and she felt a kind of astonishment that these things should be happening to her. “It’s the first time—” She broke off. “This is so wonderful for Ted too. I hope you’ll like him, Cliff, now that you’ll be getting to know him. He’s not easy to know, maybe because of not having had a father since he was four. A boy needs a father, even at eighteen.” She heard herself being apologetic, yet could not help it. “Today must have been a difficult one for him. I’m sure he felt
uncomfortable, although he didn’t say so. He’s rather silent, anyway.”

“Think nothing of it. As to being silent, I’m used to that. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the talkative one in my small family. Bill’s the silent thinker.”

“I like Bill. You can feel how solid he is. Dependable.”

“And what do you think of her?”

“She’s rather charming,” Claudia responded. It behooved a new wife to be uncritical.

“Yes, but not my type.”

“Is she Bill’s type, do you think?”

“Honey, you’re asking because you can see she isn’t. She’s a little flirt—a harmless one, I think. I hope.”

“But he loves her?”

Cliff shrugged. “I told you, he’s my silent brother. He certainly wouldn’t tell me if he didn’t love her.”

“It’s possible he doesn’t know whether he does or not.”

“You’re pretty sharp, Mrs. Dawes. But what makes you say that?”

“The few times I’ve been with them, I’ve felt that he was trying somehow to please her and that they just weren’t comfortable together.”

“Not like you and me.”

“No, not at all like you and me.” She had a long vision of evenings being comfortable together in this room, or under the trees on summer afternoons.

“The person who’ll suffer from their discomfort will be Charlotte, naturally. She’s a lovely child and she deserves better. I’m very fond of her.” He
paused. “Elena’s going to Florida for a couple of months.”

“Alone? That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Well, I think so. But maybe it isn’t.”

She saw that Cliff was troubled, and that the subject ought to be dropped. “Let’s go up,” she said. “It’s getting late.”

Rob and Roy, as if they had understood, followed them up the stairs and started down the hall.

“Not that way,” Cliff signaled. “That’s Ted’s room now, not mine. They’ll sleep in the corner of our room. Here we are. All done over for you. Do you like it?”

The wide old bed was covered with a puffed quilt padded in sea-green and rose. The walls were painted in the same sea-green. A mound of shell-pink roses in an emerald bowl stood on a bedside table. And the air was fragrant. It was a room perfected for love, for sleeping side by side and for waking together on a new morning.

“Elena did the decorating. She left the walls bare because she knew you love paintings and you’ll want to choose them for yourself.”

“It’s wonderful, Cliff. The color of the sea, like a grotto. I’ve never seen one, but I think it must be like this.”

“You’ll see a famous one in Capri. Now tell me, do you want to pretend you’re a shy virgin bride and get undressed in the bathroom? Or shall I—”

“You shall. You shall right now.”

No, she was hardly a shy virgin bride. Were there
such anymore? Nevertheless, she had bought for this night the laciest lace that any virginal bride could want. What a pity, she thought, laughing at herself, that I’ll not even get to put it on.

“Y
our father really could have come down this week,” Elena said, applying sunblock to her nose.

“He couldn’t. Some people were in town again to look at the plant and maybe buy it.”

“Nobody’s ever going to buy it. They might as well dynamite the place.”

“That’s silly.”

“Well, of course it is. Dynamiting, I mean. But give up—give it to the town or something. Oh, well, come on in for a swim.”

“I can’t. I’m supposed to finish this whole book over vacation, and I’m going home the day after tomorrow.”

“You haven’t looked at it for the last ten minutes. What on earth have you been dreaming about?”

“I’m not dreaming.”

“Gazing, then.”

Elena wanted people to be as alert and busy as she
was, even if busyness meant only applying makeup or talking on the telephone. You weren’t supposed to sit and do nothing.

Charlotte answered patiently, her patience masking impatience, “I was looking at that boat.”

“What about it? They’re waiting their chance to slide into the lagoon.”

“I was thinking how sinister it seems. It has a shark’s pointed nose. And the cabin windows up front are like shark’s eyes. I think maybe they run guns or drugs in it.”

“You’re a funny girl,” Elena said. “Funny and lovable.”

She sprang up. Other people seemed to struggle up from a beach chair, whereas she got onto her feet in one easy movement. Now she stretched out her arms as if to limber herself and yawned.

“This sun makes me sleepy. Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Charlotte watched her. Other people watched her, too, for Elena was wearing a black string bikini and a red straw cartwheel hat, which she would leave at the water’s edge. She had no objections to a tanned body, but always protected her face. No matter what Charlotte ever thought of her mother, even in those moments when she was filled with love for her, there was always a painful awareness of her mother’s difference. And this went along with her own embarrassment over it. She certainly knew that teenagers like herself are often embarrassed by their parents. So was this normal of her or not? Her mind was always divided. A mother should just
be
there, the
way one’s bed is there, or one’s shoes on the closet floor; you didn’t have to
think
about them, did you?

Elena had already joined a group going into the water, or probably it was they who had joined her. Did she know everybody on this beach, and in the condominium, too, when they all sat around the pool in the late afternoon? It certainly seemed that way. The group was laughing now. Charlotte could even hear one man’s loud whoop. Elena must have said something funny.

Actually, the week had been a success so far. All Charlotte’s previous vacations had been in western or northern places, and this was the first time she had seen palm trees, the first time she had seen water as blue as this intense, vast blue. Elena had made friends with a family who were cruising on their own boat and had taken them out on it for a day. Yesterday they had been invited to somebody’s enormous house for lunch; it had enormous lawns and white marble floors. Charlotte thought the house was too large and chilly to feel like anybody’s home. But there had been two girls of her age there, and it had turned out to be a rather good day.

There was only one thing wrong with any of the days this week. That thing was Judd. He was always there.

Yet he might be a perfectly nice person, she argued now, and he probably was. It was indecent to dislike someone who had given you no reason. He was a friendly young man, very neat, and he had a beautiful convertible in which he drove them anywhere they wanted to go. Obviously, he liked Elena, and
she was jolly with him. But that was hardly any reason to mind his presence; Elena was always especially jolly with men. She was candid about liking men. She always said, even to Dad, that men were easier to get along with. Well, maybe they are, Charlotte thought now. I haven’t had experience, that’s for sure.

“Look what’s happened to the sky,” Elena said, wrapping herself in a scarlet cover-up that matched the hat. “We’re in for rain. It happens down here with no more than ten seconds’ warning.”

Clouds, massing and rolling, had turned the sky into a dull gray-brown ceiling. The day had gone sultry and heavy with heat.

“Let’s go in. Judd’s going to pick us up for lunch.”

“Does he have to come along?” asked Charlotte. She hadn’t intended to whine, yet the question came out that way.

Elena tossed her paraphernalia—sunglasses, lotions, sandals, magazines, purse, and collapsible umbrella—into a beach bag. “No, he doesn’t have to,” she said a trifle sharply. “But what’s your objection?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know.… Only, it might be fun not to have him along.”

“That’s not very kind. He’s taking us out for real Maine lobster. Actually, it was his idea to do it for you because you said you liked real Maine lobster.”

Rebuked, Charlotte gave no answer. They walked back across the road.

“Please don’t let him see that he’s not welcome, Charlotte.”

She gave no answer to that either. As if she would be so disgusting as to hurt the man’s feelings!
She’s
the one who needs to be reminded, Charlotte thought. They had even had a tiny argument the other day when Elena was having a manicure. Charlotte, who had trailed along, had heard her talking to the manicurist about ranch mink versus wild mink, and it had seemed mean and boastful to speak about things that the other woman could not afford. Afterward, very gently, Charlotte had said so.

“Isn’t that a little nervy of you to tell me what I should talk about?” Elena had responded.

“I don’t mean to be nervy. I only felt sorry for her. I heard her talking about her children and how much things cost.”

“Okay, you’re like your father, and that’s not all bad,” Elena had said then, smiling to make up for her first irritation. “He takes note of every word a person says.”

She thinks I’m odd, Charlotte thought suddenly. And perhaps I am, but at least Dad doesn’t think I am.

“Let’s hurry,” Elena said. “I’m starved. Wear your white linen slacks. People dress a bit where we’re going.”

The two bedrooms were separated by a square hall, small enough to allow conversation between them.

“Judd’s practically the first friend I made when I got here. Some people introduced me to his sister, and that’s how I came to know him. They’re very nice, both of them. It’s a really nice crowd, very
friendly. No airs. Lots of fun.” Elena’s voice rose. “But don’t get any silly ideas about him, Charlotte.”

“Of course not. Why would I?” You didn’t get “ideas” about your own mother.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to make everything clear. Judd’s a great tennis partner. I should be flattered. He’s not thirty yet, and goodness knows what he wants with me except that I play a good game too.” Elena laughed. “Maybe he likes my little foreign accent.”

Judd was waiting in his car. It certainly was a cool car, the kind you could dream of driving when you were seventeen.

“Hey, there, that’s a cool outfit you’re wearing,” he said.

It took Charlotte an instant to realize that he meant her. “Thanks,” she answered. “I like yours too.”

Like her he wore white slacks and shirt. Unlike her he wore a sleeveless sweater striped in red and blue, along with two heavy gold chains.

The rain had not arrived yet, so the top was down. The car skimmed along the shore drive, and when Judd turned on the radio, he and Elena sang along with it. They were having a good time. He drove with one hand. The other arm rested on the seat behind Elena’s back. In the parking lot at the restaurant, it occurred to Charlotte as she walked behind them that they looked alike. Judd was slender, and his thick black hair was curly. She wondered whether people might assume that they were both her parents. Odd thought.

Judd was a talker, too, like Elena when she wanted to be. Their conversation wasn’t interesting. It was all about people Charlotte didn’t know, and about the things they owned, their cars and their houses, mostly.

Judd said, “I bet you’d give your eyeteeth for one of those big places on the shore drive.”

“If I could live down here, that’s what I’d have,” Elena told him, “with a private beach across the road.”

“Oh, ho,” he cried, throwing his head back. “Why don’t you?”

“Well, I just might,” she answered, tossing her own head.

She seemed to be teasing him. Charlotte had never seen her behaving quite like this. There was a silence that now suddenly seemed interesting. Judd broke it by addressing Charlotte, to whom no attention had been paid since his first compliment.

“You don’t mean to tell me you’re going to leave all that on your plate?”

“It was delicious, but it was huge,” she replied politely. “Too much for me.”

Judd laughed. “Look at your mother. One hundred four pounds soaking wet, and she eats enough for two.”