These Foolish Things (22 page)

As Liz began looking through the used-car ads in the Sunday
Globe, she had a sneaking suspicion that the Rabbit hadn’t died so much as been
assassinated. Ty had motives: he’d never liked the car and it was an effective
way of keeping Liz closer to him. She had surreptitiously looked at him while
pretending to study the Volkswagen column in the automotive classifieds, but he
just kept working on the crossword puzzle and ignored her look, even though Liz
thought she detected a slight smirk when she mentioned her conversation with
the mechanic.

On Christmas Day, after getting several pieces of expensive
jewelry and a full ounce of her favorite perfume, Ty had handed Liz an envelope
and told her, “Come with me.”

He had taken her out to the garage where something sat under
a tarp next his Mercedes. Something big. “Okay, open the envelope,” he’d
instructed as he picked up a corner of the tarp. Liz found a registration,
title and insurance in her name for a brand-new Mercedes coupe. Looking up, she
saw Ty standing proudly next to the car described in the paperwork. Liz had
dropped the envelope.

“My God, Ty! You shouldn’t have!” Liz had gasped as she
stepped forward to look at it. “This is too much. I can’t accept this.”

“Yes, you can,” he had insisted, “You need a car and it is
my pleasure to fulfill your needs,” playfully squeezing her ass, he’d added,
“all of them.”

Liz had wrapped her arms around Ty and kissed him, her
tongue darting around his, teasing and luring until he’d taken control, pulling
her against himself.

Liz had broken off the kiss long enough to give him a sassy
look. “Wanna break in the back seat, Counselor?” she’d asked. Ty gave her a
look of pretend shock. “You shameless hussy! There is no back seat!” He had
kissed her, saying, “Anyway, my bed’s much more comfortable.”

Before the office Christmas party, Ty had handed Liz several
credit cards over lunch one day. “Here, these are yours. I took the liberty of
looking through your closet and you’re going to need to do some shopping.”

Liz looked at the cards. They were all either platinum or
gold cards for the usual credit card companies or VIP cards for upscale
department stores like Neiman-Marcus. And they had her name on them.

“Shopping for what, Babe?” Liz asked in confusion.

“We’ll be going to more black-tie functions and as much as I
love that blue velvet dress of yours,” he had said, “you can’t wear it to all
of them. Take the cards, take Millie and have fun. Shop ‘til you drop. Buy
whatever you want. I love you. Gotta run.” And he had kissed her before leaving
for a client meeting, 5 minutes after his meal had arrived and 25 minutes after
he had sat down with Liz. Her first use of the cards had been to pay for the
meal and Beanie had gotten leftover grilled salmon for dinner.

The stress had come from the scrutiny of Ty’s colleagues and
their wives at his firm’s Christmas party. Sarah Washburn had somehow managed
to separate Liz from Ty at the Christmas party, nominally to introduce her to
some of the other women, but also to put Liz in front of them for interrogation.
The small group of women had asked mundane, polite questions with nasty edges
to their voices and even nastier smiles on their faces. Rachel Dunn had given
Liz a withering look before remarking in a careless way, “So, you’re Tyrone’s
latest. I guess bigger IS better.” And she had then taken a big swallow of her
vodka martini. Even Sarah Washburn had bitten back a gasp.

Liz had smiled a saccharin smile back at her, remembering
Corey mentioning that Rachel had pursued Ty to no avail. “You’re right, he is
very well-equipped. No complaints here.” Rachel had almost choked on her drink
and Liz excused herself, in search of Ty.

She hadn’t gotten very far when a familiar sneer stopped her.
“You know,” said Cheryl the Silicone Queen sullenly, “I put a lot of time in on
that man and then you come along and steal him. You think you won, but I can
take him away from you any time I want, Bitch. And don’t you forget it. ”

Liz turned to face the younger woman, who was clearly drunk.
She was clutching a margarita and had spilled some on her dress, but didn’t
seem to be aware of it. The usual sex kitten air was gone, drowned in the
tequila, no doubt and replaced by bitterness. Liz noted that the woman was
alone, none of the usual male hopefuls to be seen. Her eye makeup had spread
out, creating a raccoon effect and her hair looked like a haystack. She was
glaring at Liz as usual.

“I said, ‘I can take him away from you any time I want to’,”
she repeated with a bitter edge. She swallowed more liquor. “Whaddya think of
that, you fat bitch?”

Liz looked at her evenly, feeling some pity, “I heard you
the first time and you know what?”

“What?”

“There will probably be days when I’d let you. This isn’t
one of them. Merry Christmas.” And she’d walked away. Hearing a crash behind
her, Liz turned. The Silicone Queen had flung her glass at Liz and missed, both
in distance and accuracy.

The background murmur of a party in full swing had come to a
dead stop at the sound and people stared at the two women.

Liz bit back the impulse to crack a one-liner and instead
repeated, “Merry Christmas” before returning to her search for Ty. “YOU FUCKING
BITCH!” She heard screamed behind her. “YOU FUCKING THIEVING BITCH! I’LL KILL
YOU!”

Liz kept moving forward, although now she could feel her heart
hammering and her throat closing. Knowing that eyes were on her, Liz kept her
head high and her pace deliberate.

“Liz? Honey? What was that about?” Ty found Liz before she
found him. He slipped an arm around her waist. Liz noted the cocktail glass in his
other hand.

She smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek as she slipped
her arm around his waist. What Liz wanted to do was throw herself on him and
sob hysterically into his shoulder, beg him to take her home now. She made
light of the encounter. “Someone’s had too much to drink,” she said casually.
“It wouldn’t be an office party otherwise. Just have to wait for someone to
find a copier and sit on it. You know, if I ran a printing/copying shop, I’d
decorate copiers in Christmas colors and rent them out for parties. That way,
you get the traditional butt copies without damage to the office equipment.”

Ty chuckled, but his eyes probed her face and he squeezed
her. “You want another drink?” he asked.

“Actually,” said Liz, “I think I’m going to find the powder
room and freshen up a bit.” She kissed Ty slowly and deeply, mostly because of
the pleasure of it, but also for the benefit of the onlookers.

Liz found her way to the powder room of the Park Plaza Hotel
and sat in front of the vanity. She rested her elbows on the counter and
pressing her palms together, leaned forward, closed her eyes and rested her
face against her hands. Without her gang around her and Ty busy networking, Liz
thought, this was going to be a long, miserable night. Luckily, the powder room
made for a comfortable hiding place.

“Praying for deliverance?” asked a warm voice behind her.
Liz jumped and looked at the speaker. She recognized Nancy Brooks, wife of one
of Ty’s partners. With a smile, Nancy seated herself next to Liz, who braced
herself for another round of catty conversation.Nancy saw this and waved a
hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m not in league with that tramp, Rachel Dunn.”

Liz smiled. “I feel like the red-headed bastard at a family
reunion.”

“So you’re hiding?” the question was gentle. Nancy laid a
hand on her arm. “Don’t let them win.”

“I prefer to think of it as a strategic retreat to regroup.
It’s not often I have drinks and invective hurled at me simultaneously. Usually
it’s just one or the other. I was unprepared to get both.”

Nancy laughed. “You’re funny. If that had been me, I’d have
turned around and slapped the little bitch.”

Liz smiled ruefully, “Apparently, in her eyes, I’m a thief.”

“Don’t worry about her,” said Nancy, “That woman’s gone down
on more men than the Titanic and she’s already moved on to one of the junior
associates. She’s even gone after my husband, but Bill didn’t bite. I saw you
at the Barrister’s Ball. Ty couldn’t keep his eyes off you. That pissed her off
no end. I don’t know what you did to him that night, but Bill says he was
unapproachable for the next week, in a pitch-black mood and that isn’t Ty. He
was terrorizing everyone who came near him.”

I know exactly what he was going through, thought Liz.

“And now?” she asked. “He’s his usual self, according to
Bill,” said Nancy. “Works hard, makes a ton of money for the firm and himself.
He’s a good man, Elizabeth, and I’m glad to see him with someone worthy, not
Silicone Sally the Super Slut.”

Liz laughed. This wasn’t like the viciously funny debriefing
she would have done with Millie and Corey, but it was an immense relief to have
a conversation with this kindly soul. She held out her hand to Nancy Brooks.
“Call me Liz.”

Nancy shook it. “Good. Now, Liz, you come with me and we’ll
talk to some people who aren’t looking to stick a knife in your back. I’m sure
you’ll enjoy the party much more after that.”

And she had. In the course of her conversations, Liz
discovered that Ty had been telling stories about her to anyone who would
listen. More than once, someone would smile and say, “I feel like I already
know you.” Or, “Ty says you write. Have you published anything?”

Ty had booked a suite at the hotel for that weekend and they
had made the most of their time in town, returning to the Top of the Hub for
dinner, going to a blues club and making love until daylight both nights.

Liz had been astonished the first time she saw Ty’s house.
It was a graceful modern interpretation of a cape-style house. Five bedrooms,
four and a half bathrooms, including a Jacuzzi in the master suite plus a
swimming pool and substantial lawn.

“Wow,” Liz had remarked. “All this for just you?” she had
asked.

“Well, I do entertain here,” Ty had said. “I just saw the
place and really wanted it. It came on the market about the same time I won my
first class-action suit and I paid cash out of my fee.” There had been a look
of pride in his accomplishment on Ty’s face.

The interior was as elegant as the exterior, beautifully
decorated and maintained in pristine condition. Ty’s housekeeper took care of
the place as if it were her own, even doing laundry and arranging for
dry-cleaning pickup and delivery. Liz loved the kitchen, especially. It was
big, equipped with the best appliances and had counter space enough even to
satisfy Liz. What I couldn’t do in there, she had thought.

They had dined out that night and most of the nights Liz
stayed in Wellesley. And on the last night of an extraordinary year, Liz
couldn’t stop looking at the house as she removed her bags from her car. It had
been decorated for the season with white lights, fresh greenery and red velvet
ribbons. A huge wreath hung on the front door. All very tasteful and
understated.

Ty had given Liz a key to let herself in, explaining that he
was undoubtedly going to be running late, but he’d come fetch her for the party
and, by the way, they had a suite at the Ritz Carlton for the night, so pack
accordingly. Liz had reflected that it was lucky that Beanie was not only a
forgiving animal, but his baby-sitters enjoyed looking after him.

Juggling her bags, Liz opened the front door and
half-walked, half-fell inside. “Hello?” she called out.

“Yes? Who’s there?” a female voice called back. Liz heard
footsteps and Ty’s housekeeper strode into view. “Oh, Miss Gardner, it’s you.
Happy New Year.”

“And the same to you, Mrs. Wyman. Has Mr. Hadley called?” Liz
asked as she closed the door.

“Yes, Ma’am, he just called to say he’ll be here by 8:00 at
the latest and you should make yourself at home.”

Liz looked at her wristwatch. It was 6:00 PM. “Okay, that
gives me 2 hours of unchallenged access to the bathroom and I’m gonna take full
advantage of it. Ty doesn’t know it, but I’m really after him for his tub.”

Mrs. Wyman laughed. “You do that, Miss Gardner. Mr. Hadley
instructed me to make sure you had wine and hors d’ouevres available.”

“Sounds good, thank you. Do you have big plans for tonight,
Mrs. Wyman?” Liz asked.

“Oh, I’ll be leaving here in a half-hour and going to my
son’s house in Dedham. He always brings together his family and friends on New
Year’s. We’ll have a buffet dinner and watch some movies, then we toast the New
Year and have breakfast around 2 in the morning, then everybody sleeps until
the football starts,” she said with a smile. “It’s a nice tradition.” She
turned to get wine and hors d’ouevres for Liz.

“Sounds great,” said Liz. Sounded like Joey’s party,
something she hadn’t missed in years. It wouldn’t be the same, ringing in a new
year without them, but sometimes you have to let go of things, no matter how
much you love them, to make room for something better. “I’ll just head upstairs
and get started.” Liz huffed her way upstairs with her bags, dropping them in
Ty’s master bedroom. As with the rest of the house, it had been decorated with
understated elegance in shades of blue. The end result was something out of
Architectural Digest. Actually, remembered Liz, the house had been in
Architectural Digest a few years before. A specially bound copy lay on the
coffee table in the den downstairs.

Liz carefully unpacked her dress for the occasion, full
length, one shoulder, black with silver beading. It had cost a small fortune in
a snotty Newbury Street boutique, but Millie (and Corey) had argued that she
couldn’t leave it behind. She located the shoes and other accessories to go with
it.

“Here you go,” said Mrs. Wyman with a smile. She had a tray
with a Waterford wine glass, a small crystal decanter of Merlot and canapés
that she set down on the bureau. “Now, you enjoy your bath and Happy New Year
again, Miss Gardner. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mr. Hadley so happy
as he has been with you. You two have a good time at your party. I’ll be
thinking of you, all dressed up like Cinderella.”