Wanderlust (2 page)

Edward Driscoll's eyes met Audrey's now. I'm going to my club, and I suppose you and your sister are going to Ransohoff's to spend all my money. He pretended to be distressed, but in spite of the Depression, he wasn't. All of his money was so carefully invested that the bad times had barely made a ripple on his private waters.

We'll do our best. Audrey smiled matter-of-factly at him. She bought very little for herself, and always had, but Annabelle still needed a number of things for her trousseau. And there were to be seven bridesmaids in her wedding. Audrey was to be maid of honor. J. Magrien had done the wedding gown, of antique French lace, encrusted with tiny pearls, with a high, high neck, which would frame Annabelle's delicate face, with a veil of the same antique lace and French tulle to set on her spun gold hair. Audrey was extremely pleased with the effect of the beautiful veil and gown, as was Annie. The only problem was getting her to go to fittings. The wedding was in three more weeks at Saint Luke's Episcopal Church, and there were a thousand details to attend to.

And by the way, Harcourt will be here for dinner. She always tried to warn him in the morning. Now and then he forgot, and he would be furious to find some strange face, or even a familiar one, at his dinner table with no warning. And now he stared at her, as he always did at the mention of his future grandson-in-law. He was never quite convinced that Audrey wasn't jealous. It was difficult to imagine that she wasn't. Annabelle was only twenty-one, and Audrey was twenty-five after all, and in most people's eyes, not the family beauty. She had a tendency to make herself plain, to wear her hair pulled back too tightly, no rouge on her ivory cheeks to give them some color, no mascara to darken her auburn lashes, no lipstick to accentuate the full lips that would have been sensuous if she'd let them. But she seemed to want none of that. She had had no serious beaux. There had been several suitors over the years, but her grandfather had always scared them off. And Audrey didn't seem to care. To her, they all seemed so sedentary and very boring. She sometimes dreamed of a man like her father with adventure in his soul, and a passion for exotic places, but she had never met anyone even remotely like him. And Harcourt didn't fit the bill either, though he was perfect for her sister.

He's a handsome lad, isn't he? Her grandfather's eyes combed hers, as they always did, expecting to see something that wasn't there and never had been, even if she had met Harcourt first, even if he had taken her dancing once or twice. But she had relinquished him happily to her sister, and in spite of what people might think, she did not pine for him or regret it. He would never have fed the hunger in Audrey's soul, and she doubted if anyone could. What she longed for she found in the photographs she took, and the tattered albums left to her by her father. There was something deep within her so like him. Even their photographs were much the same, their eye, their perception, their hunger for the rare and faraway ' . Harcourt will make a good husband to Annabelle. Her grandfather always said it as though taunting her, or pressing her to see her reaction. He still thought she had made a mistake in giving him up to her younger sister. He still didn't understand what was within her. Few people did. No one in fact. But it didn't matter to her. For years, Audrey had been used to keeping her own counsel about her private dreams. She couldn't indulge them anyway. Her place was here, running her grandfather's home and being there for him. And now she smiled at her grandfather, with the slow smile that began in her eyes and moved cautiously to her lips and made her look as though she were restraining gales of laughter. It always made one wonder what the rest of the joke was, as though she knew something one didn't ' as though there was more ' and there was ' there was a lot more of Audrey Driscoll, but no one knew it. Even her grandfather didn't suspect just how far her dreams went, or how great her hunger to follow in her father's footsteps. She was not cut out for the life destined for the women of her times, as she knew only too well. She would rather have died than settle down and marry Harcourt.

What makes you think he'll be such a good husband? She smiled mischievously at her grandfather. Just because he's a Republican like you? Audrey teased him and he took the bait.

Edward Driscoll's eyes darkened and he was about to answer her as they heard a sigh just behind them. It was Annabelle in a cloud of blue silk and cream-colored lace, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she looked at Audrey in despair. She stood almost a foot shorter than her older sister, and she seemed extremely nervous, as her hands fluttered like tiny birds. To Audrey she always seemed so graceful. She was so unlike Audrey in so many ways, and she relied completely on her calm, capable older sister.

Are you two already talking politics at this hour of the morning? She cast a hand over her eyes as though she were in pain and Audrey laughed. They talked politics much of the time, mostly because they enjoyed it. They even enjoyed their fights, which invigorated them both, and horrified Annabelle, who found the subject of politics boring, and their arguments completely unnerving.

Franklin D. Roosevelt won the nomination at the Democratic Convention in Chicago last night. You might like to know that. Audrey always thought it important to keep her informed, although she never cared and Annabelle looked up at her blankly.

Why?

Because he beat Al Smith and John Garner. Audrey spoke matter-of-factly and Annabelle shook her head, looking petulant and annoyed, but very pretty.

No ' I mean why would I like to know that?

Because it's important! Audrey's eyes blazed at her as they did at no one else. She wouldn't tolerate that nonsense from her, although she herself had known for years that it was hopeless. Annabelle didn't give a damn about anything except her face and her wardrobe. He may be the next president of our country, Annie. You have to pay attention to things like that. She tried to be gentle with her, but there was an edge to her voice. She had always wanted her to be more interested in the world, and yet she wasn't. It was amazing to realize how different they were. Sometimes it was hard to believe they came from the same parents. Even their grandfather had said as much.

Harcourt says that an interest in politics is vulgar in a woman. She shook her golden curls and looked defiantly at them both as Edward Driscoll stared at her in fascination. She was an amazing little creature, and pretty certainly. And she was actually a great deal like her mother ' but Audrey ' Audrey was so like the son he had loved ' if only he hadn't ' but there was no point thinking that now ' damn crazy places ' he had been everywhere from Samoa to Manchuria over the years, and what good had it done him? Besides, Annabelle went on, I think it's disagreeable of you to be talking politics at breakfast. And bad for your digestion.

Edward Driscoll looked truly stunned and Audrey had to turn away to conceal her smile. And when she turned back again their eyes met over Annie's head. There was a hidden caress there for her, not that he would ever have known the words to put to it. I'll see you both at dinner tonight. And Harcourt. He made good his escape into his library as Audrey watched his retreating back. He was a little more bent than he had been the year before, but barely. He was a proud, strong man, and Audrey felt she owed him a great deal. The rest of her life perhaps ' or at least herself for the rest of his. He needed her to run his house. And as she thought of it, she looked down at her younger sister. She had a great deal to learn about running a home, and she had staunchly refused to learn any of it from her older sister, insisting that Harcourt said all she had to do was look pretty and have a good time and he'd take care of the rest for her. Harcourt thought it was vulgar for a woman to take too much responsibility, Annie said whenever she could, unaware of the barbs she was casting at her sister, who remained steadfastly amused, and unaffected by Harcourt's views of what was vulgar.

Don't forget you have a fitting for your wedding dress today, she reminded Annabelle as they drifted from the room, just as the library door slammed firmly closed. Audrey knew that he had gone in there to smoke a cigar, and sit by himself for a while, before being driven to the Pacific Union Club. He would sit staring into the distance, dreaming of old times, reading letters from friends, composing responses in his head before writing them out that afternoon. There was little left for him to do, unlike Audrey who had a wedding for five hundred guests to plan, and a sister who relied on her completely.

I don't want to go downtown today, Aud. It was too hot yesterday afternoon, and I still have a headache.

Too bad. Take an aspirin before you go. You only have three weeks until the wedding. And did you check the gifts that came in yesterday? She took her firmly by the arm and shoved her gently into the front parlor. The long table was hourly more laden with offerings from their friends and Harcourt's.

Oh, God ' She started to whine, which always made Audrey want to shake her. ' look at all the thank-you notes I'll have to write! '

Look at all the pretty gifts you got! Be grateful, don't complain. Audrey was more like Annabelle's mother than her older sister. She had had Audrey's undivided attention for fourteen years, to a far greater extent than she would ever have had their mother's. Audrey had even gone to college nearby at Mills, so she could be close to her sister, who had never gone on to college after Miss Hamlin's. But no one had expected her to, since everyone said that Audrey had the brains and Annabelle the beauty.

Do I really have to go downtown today? She looked imploringly up at Audrey, who marched her upstairs, made her get dressed, and sat her down to write half a dozen thank-you notes while she got dressed herself, and at ten thirty they were both ready when the chauffeur drove up in the dark blue Packard their grandfather kept for their use. It was a beautiful summer day, the first week of July, and the sky was as blue as it had been in Hawaii.

Do you still remember it, Annie? Audrey asked her as they drove downtown, but the pretty blonde in the white linen dress and big picture hat only shook her head. The memories had all faded when she was a little girl, unlike the photographs in their father's treasured albums. They were the only thing that Audrey still clung to from the past, and Annabelle didn't really care about them. She had always thought them uninteresting and strange and terribly foreign, and more than a little scary, which was precisely what Audrey loved about them. You could almost smell the faraway places in them as you looked at the pictures of mountains in China and rivers in Japan ' people wearing kimonos pushing funny little carts, fishing by the side of streams and staring out at you, as though they were about to speak to you in their own tongue ' . Sometimes, as a little girl, Audrey had fallen asleep with the albums in her lap, dreaming that she was in one of those exotic places ' and now her own photographs captured something unusual and exotic, even in ordinary surroundings.

Aud? Annabelle was staring at her, as the car drove up to J. Magrien's. Audrey gave a start and smiled at her, she had been letting her mind drift, which was unusual for her. She was always so busy and she had so much to do now, for Annie's wedding. What were you thinking just then?

I don't know. Audrey averted her eyes. She had been thinking of a photograph of their father in China twenty years before. It was a photograph Audrey had always especially loved, of her father laughing as he rode a little donkey.

You looked so happy. Annabelle was all innocence and Audrey smiled and glanced out the window, and then at her sister.

I must have been thinking of you, ' and the wedding ' She followed Annabelle out of the car, as a few people on the sidewalk stared. It was rare to see a Packard these days. Most people who owned them had had to sell them. Annabelle seemed totally oblivious as they walked into the store, and Audrey followed her in, feeling suddenly strange, as though she had been pulled back from a great distance, from the photograph she'd been thinking of in the car, to this terribly worldly self-indulgent place, and the transition seemed very strange as a symphony of French perfumes drifted through the air and hats and silk blouses and gloves seemed to dance before their eyes, all of them pretty and all of them very expensive. And Audrey suddenly found herself thinking how foolish it all was, how pointless ' how wrong. There were other things in life that mattered more ' other people who couldn't afford food or warm clothes for their children in winter ' there were shantytowns all over the country filled with people who no longer had homes, and yet here she was with her little sister buying expensive clothes, and a wedding gown that cost more than a college education.

Are you all right? Annabelle looked at her for a minute in the dressing room where she was trying on her gown. For an instant, she had thought that Audrey looked green, and she had. She had felt almost ill from the contrast of what she'd been thinking.

I'm fine. It was just a little warm in here, that's all. Two of the saleswomen rushed off to get her a glass of water, and as they stood at the water fountain and as one of them poured and the other one held the glass they whispered to each other what everyone was thinking.

Poor thing ' she's so jealous of her sister she's green ' poor thing ' she's The Spinster. Audrey never heard the words but she had heard them often enough before. She was used to them by now, and she didn't really care, not even as she sat in their drawing room that night, making conversation with Harcourt Westerbrook IV, waiting for Annabelle to come downstairs, and her grandfather to return from his club. He was late, which was unusual for him, and Annabelle was too, which in her case, was to be expected. She was always late, always flustered, except with Audrey calmly taking charge of everything for her.

Is the honeymoon all set? There seemed to be nothing to talk to him about except the wedding. With any other man she would have discussed the Democratic nomination but she knew Harcourt's views only too well on the subject of women discussing politics with men, or with anyone for that matter. Audrey found herself wondering what they had ever talked about when they went dancing. Perhaps the music, or did he think conversations about that were vulgar too? She started to laugh at the thought and then had to sober herself immediately. He was describing their honeymoon plans at great length. They were taking the train to New York, then the Ile de France to Le Havre, on to Paris by train, and from there to Cannes for a few days, followed by the Italian Riviera, eventually Rome, then London, and then back on the ship and home. They planned to be gone for two months and it sounded like a very nice trip, although not quite what Audrey would have planned. She would have traveled to Venice, and from there taken the Orient Express as far as Istanbul ' the very thought made her eyes dance but Harcourt's voice droned on, talking about a cousin of his in London who had promised to arrange an audience with the king. Audrey was pretending to be enormously impressed as her grandfather walked in, and stared ferociously at Harcourt. He was about to comment that no one had warned him they were having guests, when Audrey walked over to him, squeezed his arm and led him toward Harcourt with a pleasant smile. Do you remember my telling you Harcourt was coming tonight?