Regrets Only

by Sally Quinn

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you know about him and Claire?”

  * * *

  They were sitting in the EOB office. She in a chair. Isolated. He on the sofa. They had been making small talk for a while. He could tell there was something wrong. Between the long silences the only sound was the fire crackling. She did not look happy. She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  “I’ve only had lunch with her,” he said finally.

  “What?”

  “I said, I’ve only had lunch with her, nothing more.”

  She tried to look puzzled.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Lorraine Hadley couldn’t keep her mouth shut if she tried. I’m only helping Claire out. She’s of an age where she doesn’t feel attractive anymore and she’s always afraid she’s going to lose Worth to some young heiress. When she gets desperate she likes to have lunch. She likes to go to places that are obvious, like the Maison Blanche, Le Lion d’Or, or the Jockey Club. It makes people talk and keeps her in the running. It also keeps Worth on his toes. It turns him on to think other men are interested in her. I don’t know why people don’t figure out that if we were having an affair we certainly wouldn’t eat lunch together.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

  “You’re right,” he said. “She went overboard when she sang to me. It got old Worth all het up, but it made me feel ridiculous. I told her. No more lunches. She can make a fool of herself if she wants to, but not of me.”

  “Why would it make a fool out of you? You’re single. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “So I am. So I am. It’s funny, but I keep forgetting that.”

  “Do you like being single?” She tried to make the question seem not loaded.

  “You want the truth?” He sobered, stared down at his hands, then looked back at her. “I hate it. It’s cold and lonely. I don’t like coming home to an empty bed at night, and I never did like filling my bed with people I didn’t care about. It’s always been easy to get laid. It’s never been easy to get loved. Full time. Not by a good woman, at any rate.”

  “You had a good woman.” She held her breath when she said it. She just couldn’t stay away from the subject of Allison no matter how hard she tried.

  “Yep, I sure as hell did. She was a fabulous woman. But she blew it. No, I take that back. Maybe I blew it. Or”—he looked at her again—“maybe you could say we both blew it.”

  Sadie didn’t say anything. She was scared to have him go on, scared to have him stop.

  “You wanted to talk about this,” he said. “So now I’m talking about it.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “When we broke up I never thought I could miss anyone as much as I missed her. I never thought I could feel so much pain over a woman.”

  Sadie was near tears now. But something made her go on.

  “Why can’t you get back together?” She could feel her fingers grow icy.

  “No. It’s over. It’s irrevocable. Something died for us when it happened. I’m sure you’ve heard the details by now, and I’d just as soon not go into them.…” He could see her eyes misting over and the stricken look on her face. He reached over to the chair where she was sitting, grabbed her hands, and pulled her over to the sofa where he was sitting. He put his arm around her and held her to him. He could feel her body trembling slightly.

  “Sadie,” he said finally, in a whisper.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m only telling you this because I love you.”

  * * *

  “I wonder how much difference a President’s wife really can make. I think not much. Look at what happened before the Kimballs came. Eight years of the Nortons wiped out everything Mrs. Garvey had done before her. It just seems so superficial, so phony, to ‘pick a project’—something to keep the pretty little thing occupied for four years, knowing that four years later some air-head will come along and choose ‘Children in Space’ or ‘Communicating Underwater.’ ”

  They were sitting up in the sofa bed now. Sadie was eating a juicy ripe pear that Des had brought her from a fruit stand in West Virginia. The pear was dripping on her breasts, and Des licked the pear juice off. She brushed him away. “I want to be serious. This is a serious subject.”

  “Excuse me,” said Des. “Okay, let’s be serious. But why are we serious today?”

  “I don’t know. I have a lot of time by myself to think, you know, that here I am in this potentially powerful position and all I do is moon over you, make love, and occasionally try to write a novel, and shouldn’t I be doing more with my life?”

  “C’mon, Sadie, you’re doing a lot. You’ve got two major projects going. Planned Parenthood and the National Trust for Historic Preservation, both of which are important and to which you have contributed an enormous amount. You work your ass off for both of them.”

  “I don’t think it’s very earthshaking. And now that we’re only a year away from the elections, his staff has seriously curtailed my Planned Parenthood activities. They think it’s too controversial. And I can only fight them so much. I care about the National Trust, but it’s not about whether people live or die. I’m preoccupied with how much I hate being here and with how much I love you, and I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything else. I feel guilty.”

  “Well, what do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know. My problem is that Rosey and I differ on really important political issues. He’s against abortion. And he doesn’t really believe in prayer in the schools, but he’s not using it as an issue either. And I’m supposed to support his positions. I feel like such a bloody hypocrite.”

  “You’re really on a tear, aren’t you, baby?” said Des, kissing her fingers.

  “Don’t patronize me, Des. I swear I won’t stand for it. I’m trying to tell you something that’s important to me. I’m living a lie. And I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t say any of the things I believe because they differ from my husband’s political positions and it would hurt him in the campaign. Not to mention the fact that I’m having an affair. It’s my fault and nobody else’s. But I’m really disgusted with myself. I don’t feel very good about anything.”

  Des looked at her in a way she had never seen him look at her. It was as though a light had dawned, as though he were looking at her and seeing her for the first time instead of a glamorous First Lady with whom he was having a clandestine affair.

  “I’m sorry. I had no intention of being patronizing; it’s the last thing I want to do. I just didn’t realize. But if you feel the way you say you do, then you ought to do something. What do you want to do?”

  “You just asked me that, and I told you I didn’t know. That’s my problem. I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”

  “Sure there is.”

  “What, for instance?”

  “Run away and marry me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Des. I told you I was serious, and now you’re making fun of me again.”

  She suddenly noticed the strange look on his face and the way he shrugged. She did not chide him about smoking when he got up quickly and lit a cigarette.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t burden you with my problems. It’s just that Jenny and you are really the only people I can talk to, and I know Jenny feels a little stymied by my situation because she and I see eye to eye on most political issues. But I suppose you two get a chance to discuss this on your own time. God, you must be sick of me! Let’s change the subject. Tell me about the real world. Jenny says you two went to Lady Mallory’s brunch Saturday. Did you have a good time?”

  “Jesus H. Christ, are you kidding? It was a killer. Everybody in Washington I didn’t want to see. The place was a fucking minefield. Everywhere you stepped you were in trouble. All I wanted to do was get to the country, and Jenny kept wanting to stay. I got stuck with half the bores and assholes in town. It was a disaster.”
r />   “That’s not what Jenny said,” said Sadie, laughing. “She said it was great fun and terrific people-watching.”

  “Maybe I’m getting old. Or sick of this town, or something. But I’ll tell you, nobody in this city has any morals. As long as you’ve got a name, got power, even money, you’re accepted. If Adolf Hitler were in town and Lady Mallory had a dinner for him, everybody would show up, believe me. Nobody lives by principles anymore. If you do, people think you’re either stupid or a wimp.”

  “My, you’re certainly on a tear,” she said.

  “Now it’s my turn, goddammit, to tell you not to patronize me. There were people at that brunch who are criminals, amoral people. And there was everyone just kissing their asses. Celebrity and publicity are all that matters. Now, I do have an excuse. I’m a journalist and this is work. I look upon these occasions as work, and therefore all of these people are subjects, not friends. Still, I don’t like it. I would rather have been out chopping wood at the cabin. As it was, I didn’t get there until nearly sundown. Wasted a perfectly beautiful day.”

  “We make quite a pair of malcontents, don’t we?”

  “So what do you want to do about it?”

  “Why don’t we run off to your cabin in West Virginia and live happily ever after?”

  “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

  * * *

  It was the Monday before Christmas, and Sadie had had Jenny get a small Christmas tree and set it up in her office with a few lights and pretty decorations. They were going to have a small Christmas party, she and Des, and she had invited Jenny too. They would drink champagne and have Christmas cakes and little sandwiches. All of this Jenny had to produce. Sadie didn’t want the White House chef to get too suspicious, and Jenny felt a little strange preparing the food in her own kitchen and then dragging it over in a shopping bag. She wasn’t at all sure she should come, but Sadie insisted. She wanted company.

  “We’re getting a little claustrophobic in there,” she said. “It’s unreal. We’ve started our lives together; now we need something more. We need somebody to confirm that this is actually happening. We need to be a couple. We can’t be a couple if there isn’t another person there.”

  “What does Des say?”

  “Des thinks it’s fine. Although it will be a little strange for him, since Des is beginning to think you and he are a couple.”

  “I must admit I’m getting awfully used to it myself.”

  Did Sadie detect a little wistfulness?

  Sadie got Christmas-music tapes for the tape deck and wore a green cashmere sweater dress. She was more excited about her little party than she had been about any social event in a long time. She and Des, after six months alone, were actually going to sit in front of a fire and drink and talk with a person from the outside world.

  Sadie arrived before Des as usual, to finish the tree, start the fire, and get her tapes going. She checked the mirror ten times to see that she looked all right. Her auburn hair was now shoulder length and layered around the top to frame her face—a look that was softer than her old shorter, tousled look, and a little less chic, but Des adored it. She powdered her nose again and sprayed a little breath spray down her throat and pinched her cheeks.

  Jenny brought Des in from downstairs. He was red from the cold and walked immediately over to the fire to warm his hands. They looked at each other awkwardly, then finally Des reached out and squeezed her hand in greeting. She blushed. They both looked down.

  “Why don’t you take off your coat?” she asked, her voice a little high.

  “Good idea,” he said. He took it off and hung it up on a coat stand by the door. Then there was silence.

  “God, if it’s going to be this awkward with me around I better leave now,” said Jenny.

  They both laughed and went to hug Jenny at the same time.

  “You’re right, Jen, this is ridiculous,” said Des. “Let’s break out the champagne.”

  Before too long they were eating sandwiches, drinking their second bottle of champagne, and telling stories of Christmases past and laughing.

  “Wonder what we’ll all be doing next year this time,” said Sadie.

  “Well, Rosey will have just won the election, judging from the pathetic group the Republicans have put forward so far,” said Des.

  “Is that what you want?” Jenny asked Sadie.

  Things had turned suddenly serious.

  “Why is everybody always asking me what I want?” said Sadie. “I can’t answer that simply. I think Rosey is a good President, though we do disagree on certain things. I think he would be a better President than any of the others. I think it would be better for the country. As for me, I couldn’t really answer that. But one thing is for sure. If he does win, I won’t have to make any decisions about what I want. Everything will have been decided.”

  “I don’t want to get personal, as if I can help it, but you two know you’re in a fools’ paradise, if you’ll pardon me for being trite.”

  “We know it, Jenny,” said Sadie. “It’s just that we haven’t wanted to think about it. What can we do? There’s nothing to do except stop, which we can’t do.”

  “I’ve never been in a situation like this in my life,” said Des. “It makes me feel helpless, and I don’t like to feel helpless.”

  “I wish we could look into the future,” said Sadie.

  “We could always call Millicent,” said Jenny. “Though I’m sure now that she and John T. Hooker are married, she’s too grand to be telling fortunes.”

  “God, I forgot about Millicent,” said Sadie. “She told me I would have an affair. ‘This affair shakes you to the roots,’ she told me, and I stormed out and slammed the door on her.”

  “Jesus, you never told me that,” said Des. “What the hell else did she tell you? Did she tell you what would happen?”

  “No. As I remember, she couldn’t really say—it wasn’t clear. I just remember the part about the affair.”

  “Well, shit, call her up and get her to read the rest.”

  “No way,” said Sadie. “She’d tell everybody in town, and Rosey would go crazy.”

  “So how are we going to find out what happens?” asked Des. “Does the guy get the gal? Does everybody live happily ever after?”

  “Does the press secretary get her ass in a sling?” asked Jenny.

  “I believe that what’s meant to be will be,” said Sadie, turning serious. “I don’t think we can change the way things are supposed to be. I was angry at Millicent for telling me that I didn’t have a great marriage and that I would take a lover. But I knew she was right. That it was fated to be. I’ve always believed that since I was a small child. And it certainly was true of my namesake Adabelle.”

  “Oh, great, the famous story,” said Jenny. “Well, when I first started working for you, Sadie, I was a real skeptic. But after six months in this job I’ll believe anything. Tell away. We’ve got all afternoon.”

  Des got up and threw another log on the fire as Jenny refilled everyone’s champagne glass.

  “Adabelle McDougald was the most beautiful girl in all of Georgia,” she began. “She had flaming red hair and turquoise eyes and had more beaux than she could count. But she always said she would never marry because she was going to die by the time she was twenty-one.

  “Then she met a very handsome dark-haired Yankee…” Sadie and Des smiled at each other. “…and fell in love. They became engaged, and her family planned a huge wedding at their Horace Hall plantation near Statesboro.

  “The night before the wedding there was a splendid dinner dance, and after everyone was in bed, the sound of chains rattling up and down the great hall could be heard throughout the house. But when they came to look, the only sign of the chains was the scratch marks on the floor where they had been dragged from one end to the other.

  “The next morning Adabelle was in a trance, talking to no one as she dressed for her wedding. Guests came from miles around to see her married, an
d as they gathered at the foot of the grand staircase to wait for the bride, the organ music began to play.

  “Just then, Adabelle, looking ravishing, appeared at the top of the stairs on the arm of her proud father.

  “As she took the first step forward, her foot caught on the veil and she began to tumble down the stairs. All anyone could remember afterwards was the profusion of white lace and veils and auburn hair as her lithe body cascaded down the stairs, landing at the foot in a heap, her pale, slim neck dangling to one side. She was dead.”

  “Jesus, Mary!” said Des, catching his breath. “What an image.”

  “Didn’t they name the town after Adabelle?” asked Jenny.

  “They did. And my mother was the first person in the family to dare name a daughter after her. Everyone else thought it was a jinx.”

  The fire crackled in the silence. Sadie took a sip of her champagne and stared into the flames.

  “Maybe…” she said, almost to herself. “Maybe they were right.”

  * * *

  “My darling precious sister,” the letter began. Sadie could barely read it.

  “I am writing you this letter because you are the only one who will understand what I have done. And why I have done it. I also know that you will have forgiven me for my transgressions at your dinner. I was under enormous stress at the time, stresses I can now tell you about. I know I should have written to you before this, but I just didn’t have the proper words or the proper deeds. Only know that I had no intention, though it may seem hard to believe, of hurting or embarrassing you. Anyway, if the pundits are right, I have helped your husband with the liberals in his party. This is by way of rationalization, but I never wrote anything I didn’t believe. As you know, I disagree with Rosey on many issues. Had it not been for the situation, however, I might not have written it. Sometimes from a distance, looking at the great and mighty, it is hard to realize that they are real. From where I sit, you and Rosey seem invincible. It never occurred to me that anything I might write in my obscure little paper might have the slightest effect on either of you. If it did, and I now believe it did, I am eternally sorry.