Billie had to admit she was at a loss. She wanted what was best for Maggie and there was the baby to consider. Maggie needed help.
Before mentioning the plan to Moss, Billie checked it out with the school and waited to hear whether or not Thad’s cousins would agree. When she was met with approval from all sides, Billie breathed a sigh of relief and went to Moss with the proposal. He heard only “very exclusive, very private, and very expensive.” Emotionally disturbed children were something other people had. Maggie was going north for the best education money could buy.
“I’ll never forget this and I’ll never forgive you, either of you!” Maggie shouted as the car taking her to the airport pulled away from Sunbridge. Billie’s heart ached. Her last sight of Maggie, with red-rimmed eyes and teeth bared, was what she took to bed each night. To her lonely bed. Moss’s promise, it seemed, had departed with Maggie. Once again he threw himself into his work, spending long hours away from home. Often, when he crept into their room in the wee hours of the morning, Billie could detect a faint aura of very feminine, very sophisticated perfume. With Maggie gone, Moss obviously considered the family problems solved.
Billie tried to tell herself it really didn’t matter. But it did, terribly, and she seemed to spend her days swallowing a dry, hard lump that had become lodged in her throat. What was it she did want? Since the night of Sawyer’s birth when she and Moss had made love, she had come to the realization that sexual gratification wasn’t enough. Loving wasn’t enough. There was supposed to be more—there had to be more—but for the life of her she couldn’t put a name to it. Even her anger was gone; only a sense of bleakness remained.
Billie’s invitation list to the opening of her studio—which was to take place today—was small and select. Two of Jordan Marsh’s students with whom she’d kept in touch, Thad, and the family.
For weeks carpenters, painters, and delivery men had thrown Sunbridge into chaos, and the old carriage house was now ready for occupancy. Huge windows and skylights let in blinding amounts of light. Canvases and easels were set up to take advantage of the light at different times of the day. Boxes of paint, brushes, and pallettes were stacked neatly on sweet-smelling cedar shelves. A soft, downy sofa that opened to a bed took up one wall; a small refrigerator, an equally small stove, and a thickly padded rocking chair lined the other. Green plants in tubs stood in all the corners. And Billie had told the carpenters to section off a small room, right next to the sparkling new bathroom, for Sawyer’s nursery. That way, any sound the infant might make would carry to Billie no matter where she was working.
Now Billie held Sawyer up on her shoulder. She was a round, cuddly baby, big for six months, the doctor said. She was bright-eyed and alert, gurgling constantly, to Billie’s delight. Soft music played in the background as Billie walked about her new domain. She was excited about her new venture—she was reaching out for something.
Seth and Moss were the first to arrive. Billie handed the baby over to Moss, who reached for her unwillingly. Agnes arrived a few minutes later with Riley and the servants from the kitchen. Billie smiled when she overheard Agnes discussing their cleaning schedule. Never would one of her mother’s servants take a cloth or broom to this private place. She would clean it herself. This was hers and she wasn’t about to share it with anyone but Sawyer.
The coffee was gone, the Danish finished, and Riley had been driven back to the school. The two students lingered a moment or two longer and then departed behind Agnes. Seth limped off and Moss waited a moment longer. “I think this is wonderful for you, Billie. You should have done it sooner,” he said. “I don’t know much about art, but I can tell that you’ve improved since you went into the city to that commercial studio. I’m proud of you, Billie.”
Billie scrutinized Moss’s features for some sign that he was mocking her for doing something on her own. When she read the sincerity she had to smile. A year ago, even six months ago, she would have wept in sheer rapture at her husband’s approving words. She felt pleased, but she felt more ecstatic at taking Sawyer from her husband’s arms.
“I’ve got to get back to the office. I’m sorry Thad didn’t make it. He must have gotten caught up in something. The navy isn’t all that concerned about personal lives. I’d really like to see the old boy again. We’ve kind of lost touch. I’m glad that you’ve kept up your correspondence with him. Thad is one in a million.”
Billie nuzzled Sawyer’s neck. “One in a million,” she repeated.
Moss looked around. Suddenly he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t belong in this place that was his wife’s, yet he didn’t want to leave. His eyes swept around the room, settling on the sofa bed. He’d be damned if he would depart this place without leaving his mark. The studio would become theirs instead of hers. “Billie, I want to make love to you,” he said huskily, his hand reaching to touch the soft blond fluff of curls that fell against her neck.
Billie raised her head and at the same time gave Sawyer a slight pinch. The infant wailed on cue. “I’m sorry, darling. Sawyer needs to be fed and changed. Later, in our room. I’ll wait for you.”
Billie loved her new studio. It was the one place at Sunbridge that was hers alone. She wouldn’t share it with anyone, not even Moss. She wanted no memories of him here.
“How long can it take to feed a baby? Can’t you prop up the bottle?”
“I wish it were that simple, darling,” Billie said sweetly. “However, Sawyer is now eating food that has to be warmed and then she takes a bottle that also has to be warmed. Then she needs to be changed from the skin out. The little love is a messy eater. At least an hour. If you want to wait.” She made it sound like the question it wasn’t.
“I can’t wait. I have a board meeting. Good-bye, Billie. I’ll be late this evening.”
“All right,” Billie called over her shoulder.
Moss stormed out to the garage.
Billie cooed to the baby. “It was necessary, sweetie. Forgive your grandmother.” Sawyer gurgled as Billie placed her in the new crib. She wound up a colorful musical toy and within minutes the baby was sleeping soundly.
Now she was alone in her own place, organized and decorated by herself. It was what she wanted, the way she wanted it. It was hers. All hers!
The cigarette she lighted gave her something to do with her hands as she walked around the studio. Today was for looking and enjoying. Tomorrow she would get down to work. She was standing by the huge north window when she saw the plane flying low overhead. She knew who it was instantly. Thad would never forget. Now her perfect little place was complete. She watched the plane circle and then come in low, landing perfectly. She quickly checked Sawyer and then changed her shoes. If she ran like the wind, she could get to Thad before he took off in search of a ride to the main house.
As she ran across the field, her hair billowing out behind her, she kept saying over and over to herself, Oh, God, what am I doing? She didn’t care.
At first he didn’t see her and then the sound of his name circled around him like an exaltation of larks. He turned and watched Billie run to him. Then he was running toward her. “Billie!”
Billie skidded to a stop two feet from Thad. He pulled up short and both of them burst out laughing.
“Thad! I’m so glad to see you. I thought you weren’t going to make it. I waited and waited. Now the day is complete. They’re all gone. All except Sawyer and she’s sleeping. Where were you? Why are you late? I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you.” She was babbling but was unable to stop herself. How wonderful he looked. So fit and . . . and so . . . ready.
“Billie! I’m sorry I’m late. Last-minute check of the plane turned up a small defect. I was out on the field and couldn’t get to a phone. I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t have missed your unveiling for anything. How are you? You look beautiful. You always look beautiful. How’s the baby? How do you like being a grandmother?” Jesus, he was babbling just the way she was. He wanted to reach out, to take her in his arms.
But it wasn’t the time and it sure as hell wasn’t the place.
“I’m so glad to see you. So damn glad.” Billie laughed as she linked her arm in his. “Hurry, I want you to see Sawyer. She’s sleeping. I left her alone for these few minutes. I shouldn’t have done that. Run, Thad.” Laughing like two children, they raced back to the studio.
“Billie, this is wonderful! It’s so sunny with all the windows. Now I can picture you here working. I’m glad you invited me.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Admiral,” Billie said, drawing him into the little mininursery. She stood back proudly as Thad stared down at the pink-cheeked baby. “Well, what do you think?”
“What do I think? I think she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, next to her grandmother, that is. Is she as perfect as she looks?”
“Admiral! Surely you jest. Would a Coleman be anything but perfect?” Billie teased. “Yes, she’s a good baby. She’s gaining weight rapidly and sleeps through the night. I just love her, Thad.”
“I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told me,” Thad teased back. “Have you heard from Maggie?”
“No. But I write and I send pictures of Sawyer almost every week. I tell her everything. I called a week ago. She sounded fine. She hasn’t forgiven me or her father, but we’re living with it. The school mails out a progress report at the end of every week. It’s not exactly glowing, but her teachers seem to have a positive outlook. Now, tell me about you. I’ll make some coffee. I saved some Danish in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case you made it after all. Did I tell you how happy I am that you made it?”
“Yes. But tell me again.”
Billie laughed as she measured coffee into the percolator. “I’m so glad you could come. I’ve missed you, Thad. I think of you more often than is good for me. How’s Solomon?”
“Ask a man about his dog and you have his heart. He’s fine. His owner isn’t all that well. I think of you more often than is good for me. I have to be honest with you, Billie. I wasn’t going to come today. I was going to call you and say good-bye. Then I realized how cowardly that would be, so I hopped in the plane. I have new orders. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
The cup Billie was holding fell and shattered on the new tile. “You’re leaving? Where? Why? No, I’m sorry. I have no right to ask that. For how long?”
“I don’t know for how long. It’s the Pacific. My guess is at least three years.”
“Three years! That sounds like forever. Oh, Thad!”
She cared. Jesus, she sounded as though she really cared. There were tears in her eyes. “It’s only thirty-six months, or one thousand ninety-five days if you’re counting. Who’s counting?” He couldn’t stand the stricken look on her face. He had to get things back on an even keel. “How are things with Moss?”
Billie drew in a deep breath. “Things are . . . things are . . . what they are. What I mean is, I try too hard. Moss doesn’t try hard enough. It’s what it is . . . for now. Moss will be sorry he missed you. He was saying this morning that it’s been too long since you’ve seen each another. He’s so busy, Thad. Really he is. He’s home at night but he works in his office.”
“And what about you, Billie?” Thad hoped his voice didn’t sound as anxious as he felt.
“I think I’m content. I have my painting and Sawyer. Did I tell you? Of course I did—I’m working on some textile designs.”
“I think it’s wonderful, Billie. Would you like me to send you some silks when I get to the Orient? I’m to be stationed in Japan.”
“Would you do that?”
“It would be my pleasure. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”
Billie didn’t respond right away. “Happy, Thad? I feel as though I’m on hold for the moment. I don’t know if that makes sense to you or not, but it’s as though I’m marking time, waiting for something or . . . you understand.”
Or someone, Thad thought.
Why couldn’t they say what was on both their minds? Why wasn’t he telling her how he felt about her? Because, he answered himself, Billie was another man’s wife—his best friend’s wife.
“You’ll keep in touch?” Billie asked. It was a plea.
“Of course. The Colemans are part of my life.” That was a safe statement.
“What are you thinking now, this very second?” Billie’s eyes were bright.
“About that time we were standing in the cavern at Diamond Head. What made you ask me that question?”
“I was thinking that one thousand ninety-five days is a very long time for two . . . for two friends to be separated. I’ve never been to the Orient. I’d like to see Hong Kong, Japan, the Philippines.”
Thad tensed. “When?”
Billie’s clear hazel eyes met his gaze honestly. “When?” she whispered. “When I need you most.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When Sawyer was eighteen months old, Moss came to the realization that Billie no longer lived and breathed solely for him. Days went by when she didn’t enter Sunbridge at all but ate and slept in her studio. Once, unable to comprehend what was happening, he had tiptoed out of the house and gone down to the studio. He had stood in the dark and drizzling rain watching his wife play with his granddaughter. He could have gone in. He could have stormed in. Billie’s rich laugher as she tussled with Sawyer on the thick carpeting brought a lump to his throat. He was losing her in so many little ways. He knew he had no one to blame but himself. A blanket of self-pity covered him as he stood watching. He didn’t belong in the studio. He knew if he knocked on the door or simply walked in, Billie would smile but it wouldn’t reach her eyes. The laughter would stop and a tenseness would take over. Billie’s eyes would send silent questions: What do you want? Why are you here? She would say, “Moss, how nice to see you.” She would be polite. They would be like two strangers.
His children were settled now and gave him no anxiety. It was Billie who was the thorn in his rose garden. This new Billie, who had ideas and opinions of her own and didn’t hesitate to speak them. She had to be the youngest, the most beautiful, most caring grandmother he had ever seen. The love and devotion she showered on Sawyer should be his.
They should be doing things, going places, sharing. Instead, they were leading separate lives. Maybe Thad had the right idea after all. Bachelorhood couldn’t be all that bad.
Back in his office, Moss delved into his paperwork. Two hours later he knew another trip to Europe was necessary. The sooner the better, and it was business that had to be handled personally.
Suddenly, Moss sat up straight. Maybe, just maybe he could work it so that his business trip coincided with Billie’s tour of the Orient, make all the arrangements in advance for her to accompany him, then persuade her to drop her plans in favor of his. She’d discussed her trip with him and he had agreed she could go, although he’d known she would go regardless of what he said. Billie had been writing and making calls halfway across the world, setting up appointments and meetings that, she said, would add to her knowledge and further her career; whatever the hell that was! Now he could head her crazy ambitions off at the pass and offer her something far more suitable: togetherness.
A few calls produced two confirmed reservations on a flight to England, with return passage on an Italian ocean liner. A cruise home was just the ticket. What could be more romantic? Billie would love it. It would be a second honeymoon. Or was it their third? A month. A month for the two of them to see Europe. Billie would be ecstatic. He would tell her at dinner tomorrow night in front of Agnes and Seth. Riley would be there, too, since it was Friday and he’d be home from school for the weekend. Three allies.
Moss got up and poured himself a drink. Life had certainly changed since his marriage. Time was slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t let Billie drift further away from him. He had to do something to bring things back to the way they were. The trip abroad could do it. He just had to stand firm.
Why?
Why was he putting himself through this hassle? Things weren’t uncomfortable. Billie shared his bed willingly. She never complained. What really bothered him? The studio? The baby? She still loved him; he could feel it. Sense it in the way she looked at him. He could hear it when they made love. It was all there, all the right things. There just wasn’t enough of it. Billie was holding back, not giving one hundred percent to him anymore. A wife was supposed to give her all to the marriage, like Mom had. Blame? Fault? His? Every married couple had differences. Every married couple had trouble with their children.
Moss poured himself another drink and walked over to the French doors. He threw them open and squinted to look down across the back lawn to Billie’s studio. There were lights blazing through the expanse of glass. Sawyer’s bedroom was lit. It was almost the child’s bedtime. Would Billie come back to the house or would she sleep in the studio? He’d been keeping track. Four nights out of seven she slept at the studio.
He could walk out, cross the lawn, knock on the door, and say he’d come down to watch Sawyer get ready for bed. It would be acceptable. Or he could carry down two drinks and offer to share a nightcap. Or he could go down there and kick the damn door in. Excuses. He needed an excuse to go there. He was an intruder, an interloper. His money was paying for it. He had rights.
The light went out in the nursery. His eyes narrowed. “The hell with it.” He closed the French doors and locked them for the night. His eyes fell on the phone. Why the hell not? He dialed a number from his memory. “Alice? If you aren’t busy, I’d like to come over. Yes, too long. Business, the children. I read the reviews. You must be very pleased. I can be there in thirty minutes.” He listened for a second and then laughed. He hadn’t laughed like that since the last time he’d been with Alice Forbes. “You got yourself a deal.” There was a grimace on his face as he drew the drapes across the French doors, shutting out the blazing lights in Billie’s studio.
Texas Rich Page 46
