The Last Princess (29 page)

There was a long pause before she asked again, “You really think that I could do it?”

“You bet.”

What she didn’t know was that he was going to back her up with more committee support and more money than any chairman had ever had.

He added quietly, “I have every confidence in you.”

It was Ellis’s unshakable faith that finally swayed her decision. She accepted with trepidation, but the choice proved to be the right thing. After leading such an isolated life, Lily found the challenge exhilarating. She discovered she had talents she little suspected she possessed. What’s more, her activities kept her too busy to think about Harry, who was more wrapped up in his work than ever before. Much as she worried and fretted over every detail, this undertaking was a godsend.

Long before the big event, Lily began to wonder what she would do with herself once the ball was over. She dismissed her apprehensions. Something else would turn up, she knew. And to think, weeks ago she’d dreaded even taking this on! Suddenly she had a reason to wake up in the morning, something to occupy her days. More important, she had friends. But most of all, she had what every woman needed: a confidante.

And strangely, that bosom buddy was not one of her newfound friends, but Harry’s secretary, Valerie. It was almost a relief that she was not a part of the social scene but was instead like a member of their own family.

Harry’s feelings about this budding friendship were apprehensive at best. There was something unseemly about one’s wife becoming so friendly with one’s discarded mistress, not that Lily could have known.

He wondered if he had made a mistake upon Lily’s return in allowing Valerie to stay on. He had fully intended to give her severance pay and a glowing recommendation, but when he’d begun with, “Now that Lily is back, I realize that it would be an untenable situation for you …,” she had replied sweetly, “But Harry, there’s no reason that we can’t continue to work together. I was just happy that I was there when you needed someone. But I love working for you, and you know how important
The Genesis
is to me.” Harry was taken aback, but Valerie was insistent. And besides, she was a damned good secretary. She would be tough to replace.

And so it was that one evening, after Lily had invited Valerie to stay for dinner, the two women sat in the drawing room over their coffee. Valerie’s expression was sweetly concerned. Lily failed to see the watchfulness in her eyes. Why would she? Lily had never forgotten Valerie’s supportiveness, how she had taken over after Jeremy’s death.

“Lily, darling, what’s wrong? You look so sad tonight.”

In truth, she did feel a little disappointed. She had just scored a great coup over arrangements for the ball, and there hadn’t been one opportunity yet to tell Harry. He had talked about the novel all through their meal and hadn’t even bothered to ask about her day.

“Oh, nothing really …”

But Valerie prodded her.

“Well,” Lily replied, “it’s just that something wonderful happened, and I wanted to tell Harry, but he’s so involved with the new work that I didn’t have a chance.”

“What was it?”

“Oh, I got Benny Goodman for the ball. I guess I just wanted to preen a little bit. It’s really a coup.”

Valerie feigned sympathy. “I suppose it’s difficult to be the wife of a famous author. You must feel rather left out a great deal when Harry and I are talking shop.”

“Oh, no—it’s just … I don’t know….”

“Look, Lily, I practically live here and I see what goes on. You don’t need to put on a false front. Harry works all day and half the night in the study, and you’re lonely.”

Lily was startled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me. I’m sure that Harry doesn’t realize it. Maybe it takes a woman to know another woman.”

“If only once in a while Harry would discuss something else … ask me about what I’m doing. I know I shouldn’t complain, and I’m glad that the work seems to be going so well, but—”

Gently Valerie touched Lily’s hand. “It’s hard on a woman when a man’s whole life is his work. I like and admire Harry, but sometimes I do think that he overdoes it. He really ought to try to spend more time with you … not that it’s any of my business.”

In reality, Valerie did everything she could to promote Harry’s obsession with
The Genesis
—not that he needed that much encouragement. She was always there early in the morning and never too tired to work with him late into the night.

On occasion he would say, “Listen, Valerie, we’re going to knock off early. I want to take Lily out to dinner tonight; I’ve made reservations at the club.”

But Valerie would reply, “Does she know about it? She told me that she was going to be so busy this evening with her telephoning, she wouldn’t have a second to spare. You know, you don’t realize how busy she is—she almost has more of a career than you do. She really seems to have found her métier with this charity ball. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

Shrugging, he said, “Well, why don’t you call and cancel, then,” and turned back to his writing. At least Lily was happy.

But Valerie was not. Harry had not slept with her again since Lily’s return. Secretly she longed to know if he was sleeping with his wife. What kind of love life could they have? she asked herself. Harry often didn’t go to bed until very late, and he was up and about early in the morning. That didn’t leave much time to romance his wife.

But still, she had to know positively, and once again Valerie turned to Lily—sweet, kindhearted, seemingly without guile.

“I loved my ex-husband, Ken, so much,” Valerie said, with a little sad smile, “but he simply couldn’t live without other women. And when our marriage finally broke up, I just couldn’t think about falling in love again. I was too deeply hurt.”

Then, almost idly, she said, “Funny, isn’t it, how women can get along quite contentedly without a love life for a long, long time. I know that I have, but men can’t seem to survive more than a day or two without.”

“I don’t know about that. Harry seems to survive,” Lily said wryly.

Secretly Valerie rejoiced. If Harry and Lily were not making love, that could spell doom for their marriage.

“Don’t you ever get frustrated, having a husband who is married to his work?”

“Between the two of us, I do.”

As time passed, Valerie continued to feed Lily’s discontent—and ironically, Lily always ended with the greatest of accolades. “Oh, Valerie, you’re so understanding. You’re just an angel…. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you to talk to.”

Valerie smiled. She was still determined to snare Harry. Cottoning up to Lily was all part of her plan. She sensed how disturbed Lily was about the subject of lovemaking. She determined to make the most of it.

The subject had troubled Lily long before she and Valerie discussed it. Lily and Harry never made love anymore. During the years of their marriage, there had been many periods when they had not made love frequently, for one reason or another—but infrequency had never lapsed into abstention such as this.

In ways, Jeremy’s suicide and its aftermath remained the irreconcilable barrier between them. She had never truly forgiven Harry for his role in Jeremy’s self-destruction, and he had never forgiven her for abandoning him. They still had the other children to think of, though Drew seldom came home, even for vacations. Even Randy and Melissa kept themselves scarce.

Now, between the charity work which kept her so busy and Harry’s novel, they had little in common to talk about. While they both did their best to remain amicable, each of them was harboring grudges that would only fester with time.

Valerie was the one to work at the chinks in the armor they’d worked so hard to construct around their tender selves. Yet even Valerie could not have contrived the master stroke Harry himself delivered.

One evening as the three sat over dinner, Harry said quite matter-of-factly, “Lily, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve got to go to Israel to do some research.”

“Oh? How long will it take?”

He hesitated. “Well, six months to a year, anyway.”

“A year?” she repeated. “And when do you have to go?”

“I’d like to be over there by the beginning of next week.”

“Harry, I have the ball to think of. I’m committed—you know that!”

“Well, my dear, I’m committed also, and I think that my work is more important, frankly, than some social event.”

Lily was infuriated by Harry’s casual dismissal of her work. And once again, he was informing her of a major decision concerning them, announcing it as fait accompli. In her head she replayed the long-ago conversation: “I bought this property yesterday, Lily.” “Without even asking me?”

She had given in then and had even apologized for resenting his high-handedness. But once again, Harry had failed to consult her. He hadn’t even taken her into his confidence about a major change in their lives. He hadn’t so much as hinted to her what he was planning, even though it meant pulling up stakes and disrupting every facet of their existence.

Of course, he expected her to give in—and she could; she could probably even get someone else to fill in for her as chairman, and the children would not be home for vacation for some time. But a little rebellious voice whispered, “Why should I always have to be the one who gives in?”

All through her married life, she had given in and smoothed things over even when she knew that she was in the right. But she too had needs, maybe as important as his. Perhaps her work was not as significant, but it was significant to her, if only for the sense of accomplishment it gave her.

And suddenly, she knew that for once she would hold her ground. She wouldn’t give in. Not this time …

Her voice carefully modulated, with no trace of bitterness, she said, “Of course, Harry, your work is the most important thing. I’m not denying that. But it’s only a few months until the ball—couldn’t the research wait that long? It would mean a great deal to me and that way we could take the children too.”

“Look, Lily, I’m not going to alter all my arrangements because you’re involved with this ball. You don’t understand that the creative process can’t be put on hold. Rafi and Tony are leaving next week, and Valerie’s following the next day.”

Valerie knew already … her dearest friend, and she hadn’t said one word?

But she had to swallow the hurt. “Harry, I’ve undertaken a commitment—and frankly, I don’t feel that I can just walk away from it.”

“Oh come on, Lily,” he said with mounting irritation, “I don’t mean to offend you, but no one is indispensable.”

Not that Harry wouldn’t apply the term to himself. With a growing sense of irony, she heard him add, “There must be a lot of women with time on their hands who’d jump at the chance to take over your position.”

With rising anger, she realized how trivial Harry considered her work. But dammit, it wasn’t to her. “Harry, what you say may be true, but I’m simply going to have to stay here until the ball is over. That way I can make arrangements for Randy and Melissa. Maybe they’ll want to join me, but if not I’ll need to settle them at camp.”

But all Harry said was, “You’re not going with me. Well, that’s more or less par for the course, isn’t it?”

“Harry, you just don’t understand! I’d been looking for something worthwhile to do for so long. Then this came up, and now you’re asking me to abandon it halfway through.”

Coldly, Harry inquired, “Being my wife isn’t something worthwhile? You’re tired of that role?”

“No, of course not!” Lily cried. “I just want to accomplish something—do something I can point to, something to be proud of.”

“Well, that’s all very well and good, but the fact of the matter is that I have to go to Israel now, not in six weeks’ time.”

“I’m not asking you to give up your work. I’m just asking you to put off this particular trip, so that I can go with you!”

Harry threw down his napkin, pushed back his chair, and snapped, “I’m not going to argue with you about this; if you’re not in a position to come along, or not of a mind to, then don’t. It’s your decision; I’ve gotten used to your leaving me!”

When he had gone and she and Valerie were left alone, Lily asked quietly, “Valerie, why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Reaching out and taking her hand, Valerie exclaimed, “Oh, Lily, I only just found out about it myself. You know how Harry is. He’s so impulsive when it comes to
The Genesis.
He told me yesterday. I really thought it was his place to tell you. To be honest, I thought he’d discussed it with you first….” Her voice trailed off.

“And the way he told me when he finally did. He virtually commanded me to come along,” mourned Lily. “If only he had said that he wanted me, and asked me to please give up the chairmanship. That’s all he would have had to say, and I would have been happy to do it. He makes me feel so trivial—everything I am, everything I do.”

Squeezing her hand, Valerie murmured, “Men just don’t understand, do they?”

Lily sighed. “Well, regardless, it’s my duty to go with him, he is my husband. And I can come home when the kids get out of school.”

As Valerie saw Lily begin to waver, she knew she had to intercede. “Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s time for you to make your declaration of independence. Stay and finish up, wait for Randy and Melissa, and then come out to Israel. Show Harry you really care about the things you do.”

Lily hesitated uncertainly. “I just wish he’d think of me for a change.”

“Well, that’s what every woman wants, Lily. But more than that, Harry just doesn’t realize what an enormous responsibility the chairmanship is. And it’s not so unimportant. This ball raises hundreds of thousands of dollars. Can you, in good conscience, leave them in the lurch?”

Lily hesitated. “Well, I don’t know if I’m all that indispensable, but at this stage it would be difficult for someone else to step in.”

“Well then, what choice do you really have? Stay here and let Harry miss you for a little while. I hate to say it, but Harry just assumes he’ll always get his way.”

“I don’t know, Valerie…. I’m just so confused….”