Glass Mountain

by Cynthia Voigt

  I returned the wine bottle to the sideboard.

  “See the world,” Mr. Mondleigh finished the thought for his wife. I took a last look around the table.

  “Not Allie,” Mr. Rawling said. “Not our Allie. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

  They lifted their forks, to begin the meal.

  “I think it must be,” Alexis said.

  I left, unhooking the swinging door so that it could close behind me. In the living room I put the bar table away and cleared the glasses. I rinsed those glasses and the soup bowls and loaded them into the dishwasher. I started scouring pans.

  There must be a moment when you see that your plane has been hit. You’ve been dodging about through enemy fire and the engine bursts into flame, or a wing falls off. There must be a moment of perception—I am about to go down, I’ve had it, that’s it for me, I’m sunk, tutto è finito—a moment as you spiral down to meet the ground that rises, rushing, at you. Then after the perception but preceding the event, a moment for understanding. Knowledge. That whole evening seemed to me such a moment, dragging out interminably. I only awaited the ground.

  The buzzer summoned me, and I dried my hands, took off my apron, latched the swinging door. I cleared the dinner dishes and brought in the dessert—each plate holding three little puff pastries, each pastry filled with crème pâtissière and napped with a thin sauce of bitter chocolate.

  “I’d like to be based out at the Farm,” Mr. Theo was saying. “I haven’t made up my mind what to do with this house. I haven’t held it long enough to make much of a profit on the investment.”

  “Rent it to me,” Miss Sarah offered. “I’ll rent it, if you’ll leave me Gregor.”

  He ignored her. “Some days I’ll probably have to stay in town. I put in some long hours some days, and there are business dinners.”

  “I keep hearing your name, Theo,” Mr. Rawling said. “You’re building yourself something of a reputation.”

  Mr. Mondleigh was pleased. “Theo doesn’t just sit back and let the world carry him. Neither of my sons does.”

  “And your daughters?” Miss Sarah asked.

  Ripe with wine and well-being, he took no offense. “You’re thinking of Babbsy,” he deduced. “Your sister’s not a good example of anything, but women, girls, daughters—their role in society is different from men’s role. To have children. Be protected. Babbsy simply has no judgment about her men.”

  “Women make a home,” Mr. Rawling added. “Preserve culture, you know, the arts. You haven’t been turned into a radical over there, have you, Sarah? You’re entirely too pretty for that.”

  Sarah bridled, and Alexis looked uncomfortable, and even Mrs. Mondleigh was gazing thoughtfully at the men.

  “Sarah?” her father asked. “You aren’t thinking of going to work, are you? What qualifications do you have? You don’t have any qualifications, do you?”

  Mrs. Rawling answered for her. “We’ll need Sarah full-time, until we get this wedding off our hands. Your mother will need your help, Sarah, and somebody will have to oversee the redecoration of the old house.”

  “Doesn’t Allie want to do that?” Sarah asked.

  “I’ll need Allie to help me. You have no idea, either of you girls, what a job it is to put on a wedding. And at such short notice. Allie and I will have our hands full, and I’m sure you have lovely taste. You two”—she switched her attention—“will have to decide immediately on silver and china, glassware. I should know those by the first of the week, so Allie can be registered.”

  I unlatched the door and let it swing closed behind me. There was the coffee tray to set up and take out to the living room; there were more pots to be scrubbed clean and the dinner dishes. If I felt hungry later, I’d eat then.

  The sound of muffled conversation faded when the party rose from the table. The kitchen door swung open and I turned off the running water, wiped my hands on my apron.

  Mrs. Rawling was speaking to Alexis as they entered. “You begin as you mean to go on,” she advised. “Ah—?” She’d forgotten my name. “My daughter would like a word.”

  “Gregor,” Alexis supplied. Her eyes were like a firing squad.

  “That’s right, Gregor.” Mrs. Rawling left us together.

  Alexis stood where she had been set, like a dumpling dropped on the kitchen floor. I gave her a few seconds, then carried a handful of silverware to put it into the dishwasher. She would cry shame, I knew, and maybe shed a tear for her deceived self. I wasn’t going to help her. “Yes, miss?”

  “It was an excellent dinner,” Alexis said.

  So I had never happened. “Thank you, miss.” I could pretend as well as the next man. Or woman.

  She seemed to have nothing more to say, so I went back to work.

  “Theo says,” she began, and I turned off the water, turned around again. “Theo says you are a treasure.”

  “He exaggerates, miss,” I said. This time I stood and waited, until she had finished whatever piece she planned to speak. I owed her the chance; I knew that.

  “Will you be staying on with Theo? After?” she asked.

  “Are you giving me my notice?”

  “I can’t do that, you work for Theo. You know that, Gregor.” I had made her impatient. “But—” And she looked at me, really looked at me. “What were you thinking of? How could you do that to me?” There was no self-pity in her voice, only curiosity and an angry protest.

  “I didn’t know who you were, miss.”

  “You didn’t know exactly, but you knew.”

  She was right. I couldn’t deny it.

  “I don’t see how you could stay on. With us. After. And it makes me angry, Gregor. I guess I really will marry Theo now. I guess I have to. I guess I’d really better.” She laughed. “I thought—it’s incredible—I thought I could always run away to my mysterious admirer, if my parents were wrong about Theo asking me, if it wasn’t going to work out. I thought, it wasn’t as if there was only Theo to marry. And I didn’t know that was what I was thinking. That’s frightening, isn’t it? Did you know I was thinking that?”

  “Not precisely that,” I told her.

  “I was thinking I had a choice, but—What a rotten thing to do to Theo, Gregor. How could you do that to him?”

  That, at least, I hadn’t done, at least not intentionally.

  “I guess I gave you a lot of help, didn’t I? Oh, I am such a fool. I should have known, or suspected at least. And I did, sort of—but not this. But I don’t understand how you could do it. No, never mind. I know, I do know, and I even understand why. I think I must have known all along, or at least suspected. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you, not really. I blame myself. I was using you just about the same way you were using me, wasn’t I.”

  It was not a question. It was just the truth. She waited, then, for whatever I might want to say.

  “You’re not a fool, Alexis,” I promised her.

  She thought that over, watching my face. “Yes I am,” she finally said. “I shouldn’t be let out without a keeper. I’m lucky Theo thinks it would be smart to marry me, or otherwise—”

  She didn’t need to finish that sentence.

  24

  Life Goes On

  The Times printed the announcement without delay, so that—as Mrs. Rawling put it—nobody should think there was a question of necessity. No necessary marriage this. “A June wedding is planned,” the announcement read. Mr. Theo had already sent invitations out to his friends, asking them to come celebrate the occasion with him, over a few drinks.

  While I waited for Miss Sarah to finish packing, I listened to the answering machine, guest list in hand, to record acceptances. Whirr, beep.

  Beep. “Teddy? Muffy, and I’d love to come, I accept with pleasure, I’m so happy for you both. Can I bring a friend? I’ll assume so, unless you tell me not to; I sort of figured with cocktails numbers don’t really matter. I look forward to it. Allie sure lucked out.” Beep.

  I checked off the name,
and noted plus one beside it.

  Whirr, beep. “Lisette here, Teddy. I wasn’t going to accept, but I am, but I’m bringing a friend, and I do want to lay eyes on this lady.” Beep. I checked the name, noted plus one.

  Whirr, beep. “Theo, it’s Mother. Sarah seems to want to stay on in the city, with you, for a few days she said. I’ve given her permission. I’m a little…uneasy about her, Theo. She seems to be…making herself ill about something. Can you cast any light? Is there a man? Is that why she left school?” Beep, whirr.

  Beep. “Pete here, Ted. Sure, I’ll be there. Alone, though—Sal and I broke up. Hope you don’t mind. God knows I don’t.”

  I checked off the one name and crossed out the other. Beep, whirr.

  Beep. “I read the papers, Mr. Bear, and I hope you’ll be happy. I sincerely mean that. I do. Remember, I never said I had anything against married men. Or engaged men.” Beep.

  My sympathy for Alexis was short-lived, and insincere.

  Whirr, beep. “Teddy? It’s Wendy and I’ve got a sitter, so Stu and I will be there, with bells on. To welcome you to the fold.” Beep.

  I heard footsteps descending the stairs and fast-forwarded the machine to the end of the recordings, then reset it. I left the invitation list beside it, so that I could pick up where I’d left off. I put on my peaked chauffeur’s hat.

  Miss Sarah waited by the stairs. An overnight case was at her feet. She looked resolute and unhappy. I opened my mouth.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Gregor, and you needn’t bother. I got myself into this and in a couple of days I’ll be back, and I’ll have gotten myself out. Mexican divorces are legal enough.”

  She wore a simple black suit and a soft white blouse. A black purse hung from her shoulder. She could have been going out to see her lawyer or investment counselor, or to buy a serious antique.

  “Do you have money?” I asked her.

  “Traveler’s cheques, tickets, hotel reservation.”

  “Something to read?” I asked.

  At that she smiled. “Something to—? What would I read?”

  I took the thick paperback copy of War and Peace out of my jacket pocket. “Forty-eight hours can be a long time. If you’re alone, and waiting.”

  She wrapped her fingers around it. “Thanks. Thank you. I do like you, Gregor. You were right, even though you never said so. I should have told him the truth.”

  I picked up the little case. “I don’t know, miss, the truth is no guarantee of anything. But if we’re going to make a two-thirty flight…The car is right out front.”

  She nodded. I followed her out the door.

  25

  Rites of Passage

  From my place behind the bar in the living room, I could oversee the workings of the party. Waitresses moved about, offering trays of artfully wrought, colorfully assorted canapés. Mr. Theo moved among his guests. Alexis, I assumed, was doing the same in the library, accepting congratulations. The long living room, at one end of which I stood, was noisy with conversation, the air thick with perfumes and colognes, the space crowded with bodies, limbs, faces. I overheard scraps of conversations, as glasses were asked of me or handed to me to refill, and I poured wines, whiskeys, gin, vodka, adding cubes of ice or twists of lemon where appropriate.

  “The scenery in the Alps I give you, but the trails are like everything else in Europe, graded to a different degree of difficulty than I’m used to. It’s like buying clothes in France, I’m always ready to discover I’ve read the trail wrong and ski into an abyss, or an avalanche. Give me Sun Valley any day. There I’m—”

  “Losing Teddy to such a dumpy—I know it’s not kind, but honestly, she is. I don’t see what he sees in her. It’s not as if he was looking for intellectual companionship—”

  “I run three miles a day, at least, gave up smoking, only drink wine, and I’m so much sharper—”

  “I very much doubt she’ll go on for the degree now. What does someone need with a second doctorate who never really needed the first?”

  “Still, it was good of her to invite us. And she is bright enough, a good student.”

  “Yes, very sound. Often thoughtful. Too much money, of course.”

  “The earrings? Phil gave them to me, just before I left him. As if you can buy love.”

  “It can’t be love, do you think? Not money either. I think, it just gets to be time, and people think they ought to get married. Teddy’s the right age for it, isn’t he? Early thirties?”

  “Not to mention that her biological clock is ticking. It’s safer too. I don’t blame them. Does she garden, like her parents?”

  “She goes to school, that’s all I know. But it’s not as if Teddy is any more interested in education than gardens. Although I do think they’re doing the right thing.”

  “—trapped in this endless round of his business engagements. We don’t have any friends, I certainly don’t, we just see a lot of people who might be useful to us. They’re just useful people we see. Just people we see.”

  “Two years at the outside, that’s what I give it. He’ll be bored long before that, and as soon as he’s bored, he’ll be available again. No, I’m not upset.”

  “—sixty-feet, gaff-rigged, you’ll have to come out on her someday, it was a lucky buy. One of those oilmen whose fortune disappeared on him. I paid half what it cost him.”

  “She’s lucky to catch him, that’s all I can say. She’s had a crush on him for years.”

  “Has she? I wonder why.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “They don’t have anything in common. Except background, upbringing. But have you ever tried to talk to Teddy? I mean, exchange ideas? It’s like trying to talk to my father. I’d go crazy.”

  “But you’re not Allie.”

  “No, and she seems happy enough.”

  “Never mind them, what about us? I told you from the start it was marriage I wanted, and it seems to me that everybody I know is getting married. Except me. Always excepting me. I’m beginning to think there’s something wrong with me. Or with you, Bobby.”

  Briefer than a rose, the party bloomed and faded. Mr. Theo and Alexis stood side by side as they sped the departing guests. Her hair had gone limp, as had his smile. As I closed the door behind the last couple, she said, “I’m too tired for dinner, Theo. I’m sorry, but—”

  “Hey, that’s OK. Maybe I’ll drag Sarah out of her room, take her out to cheer her up, or something. Gregor will drive you home: I’m too lit to be behind the wheel of a car. Hell, I’m not all that hungry myself. Is ten tomorrow morning going to be too early for you?”

  “No.”

  “It might be for me, so I guess you can expect me when you see me. We’ll have the whole afternoon for looking the house over, which is more time than I’ll need.”

  I went to get my coat and cap. The waitresses were finishing up in the kitchen. Mr. Theo walked her to the car, and I drove her to 1195 Park. There, I went around to open the door and hand her out. “Thank you, Gregor,” she said, and didn’t look at me.

  “Good night, miss,” I said. I didn’t blame her.

  Frankly, it was a pretty dismal time for me. I’d had other opportunities, a few, but none of them so protracted, none so promising as Alexis. The pattern had been a couple of meetings, a room at the Pierre or the Plaza, a few days, maybe a week, and then she’d tell me she was leaving town—for the West Coast, for abroad, for anywhere else—and didn’t know when she’d be back. I knew I had had my own purpose for those women, and they had had their own uses for me. The experiences had been frustrating, no more. I had felt the way Gauguin must have felt, looking at his paintings, before he went to Tahiti. Alexis had looked like Tahiti.

  And now she was sitting in the back of the Mercedes, which I drove, beside her fiancé, for whom I worked. All had been revealed. All was lost. It was entirely dismal and I found myself curiously debilitated by the experience.

  We left the city and arrived at the Conne
cticut Turnpike; we looped along the shore at sixty-five miles an hour. I don’t know if they talked; the window was raised. I don’t know if they necked or held hands; I didn’t look into the rearview mirror. We left the turnpike and went inland for a few miles, until the gate of the Farm appeared on my right. I turned into the estate, but instead of bearing right, to approach the Mondleigh home, I kept on straight, to the old house, the original house, set on the highest point of the property with a view of the distant Sound.

  Impassive, I held the car doors for them. Mr. Theo seemed ill at ease when he stood on the Belgian brick driveway and looked up at the pale stucco facade. “Gregor, you’d better come in with us. This has as much to do with you as anyone else,” he said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  We walked through long, high-ceilinged rooms, where furniture sat shrouded in dusty air. We walked around the large kitchen, then back through the butler’s pantry to the breakfast room and into the dining room. We ascended the main staircase. They were silent. I followed them. By the time we arrived at the master bedroom, Mr. Theo was both bored and uneasy. I stood in the doorway. They entered. Each arrived at the foot of one of the two massive beds. Both looked around the room without looking at one another.

  “You’ll probably want a decorator in,” Mr. Theo said.

  “Yes.” She made an effort. “Are there colors you prefer, Theo?”

  “No, it doesn’t matter, I never thought about it. Look, Allie, I need to see Dad about some business. Anything you decide is all right with me. Anyway, Gregor has better taste than I do. You two will probably work better without me. Don’t bother, Gregor, I’ll walk. It’s not far. I could use the fresh air.”

  I stepped back to let him pass by me. I returned to the doorway, hat in hand. Alexis turned around, looked at me, turned away…embarrassed, was my guess.

  “If you’ll excuse me, miss?” I asked her.