“That’s understandable. Did you tell all this to Lizzie?”
“Tell Lizzie! You must be joking. Lizzie read me like a book. She gave me till Monday and said I have to give her a concrete decision. She’s being more than fair; she’ll have her decision. Hey, Katy, this is my life we’re talking about.”
“Tell me about it, oh wise and wonderful friend.”
“Don’t you have anything to say, some advice to offer?”
“No way. I never stick my nose in other people’s business even if they are my best friend. I want us to keep what we have. What I will say to you is get your priorities in order and work from there.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not good enough. You have to do it. Trying is for beginners. Jump in with both feet and do it,” Katy said, swallowing the bitter coffee.
“I could screw up and regret it later.”
“That’s a chance we all take every day when we climb out of bed. You’ll live with it because you have to. It’s simple. You’re going to do what you have to do because it’s best for you. Can’t you see that, Dory?”
How patient she was, this loyal friend. “It’s easier to cop out and blame other people and other things.”
Katy laughed. “I know all about that. I’ve been down some rocky roads and I weathered it. You will too. You’re what we used to call ‘good people’ where I came from. Hey, have you bought any new shoes lately? What’s the count?”
“Today I bought four pairs and two pairs of boots. I didn’t buy any while I was in Virginia. I lived in sneakers. I’m going to burn them tomorrow when I get back. I detest sneakers. I hate them with a passion.”
Katy had never seen such a wild look on Dory’s face or heard so much vehemence in her voice.
“Hey, if sneakers aren’t your thing, that’s okay. Don’t get hyper.”
“See, see what I mean. It’s coming out now. At home I held it in and was . . . I was . . . damnit, I was pleasant.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being pleasant.”
“Oh, yes there is. Especially if you feel like yelling or voicing your opinion. Anger is a healthy emotion. Did you know that, Katy?”
“I should. I give vent to it at least a hundred times a day both here and home.”
“I never did that in all the time I’ve been living with Griff. I was . . . I was just damn pleasant. I didn’t want him upset. I wanted to make things perfect for him. I waited on him hand and foot. I made gourmet meals. I decorated that damn town house till I was blue in the face. I made it a place for him to be proud of. I put him first. I copped out on school. I copped out on myself, on everything.”
“Is that what he wanted?” Katy asked softly.
Dory stared at Katy for long minutes. “I don’t know. He accepted everything. He never argued or lost his temper with me. I made myself over for him. I did everything I could to make it work.”
“But is that what he wanted?” Katy persisted.
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”
“Oh, yes you do. You know all right or you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. It’s easier to pick up the phone. But you made the trip. You left here a successful career woman. A woman who had her own apartment, was confident, had her own portfolio. How many times did I hear you talk about your small investments that you broke your back for? Every girl in that office would have sliced off her right arm for half of what you exuded. Just half. That was the woman Griff fell in love with and wanted to marry. Am I right or not?”
“Okay, okay. I think you’re right. Love is love. Inside I tried to be the same person I was back here in New York. Just because I kept house shouldn’t mean that I . . . oh, Katy, I screwed up. I know what happened. I tried to be all things. That person back in the town house wasn’t me. It never was, even from the first day. I’m no Susy Homemaker. I’m me. Sylvia and Lily irritated the hell out of me. I put on a good front but I could feel myself churning every time I had to be in their company. God, I tried. I really tried. The more I tried, the unhappier I was. You’re right. I turned into a caricature of myself. There were times when I would catch Griff looking at me as if I had sprouted a second head. I couldn’t understand it. I thought it was what he wanted. I did everything to please him.”
“You did everything but be yourself, the Dory he fell in love with. If he wanted a homemaker he could have hired a maid. He wanted you. The real you. The you that’s sitting here now talking to me.”
“The whole thing is a little hard to swallow. I wasn’t fair to Griff or myself. I cheated both of us.”
“There must have been some good times, especially in the beginning,” Katy said gently. She hated the tormented look in her friend’s eyes. Better for her to see it, and help, than for Dory to go on and on and never make a decision. It was too easy to sink in, to say the hell with it. She should know, she had gone through the same thing a long time ago.
“Of course there were good times, wonderful times. I could never forget them. Never. But they’re memories now, Katy. I sound bitter, I guess, but I want you to know I wouldn’t change anything for all the money in the world. I needed that time with Griff and I think he did too. We’ll both be better for it. It just didn’t work. If I hadn’t packed up and gone I would always have regretted it. Like Pixie says, Go for it, if it isn’t right you’ll know soon enough. That lady never steered me wrong yet. From here on in I have to do what’s best for me. I have to get my life back. It’s not going to be easy. I love Griff. Maybe I’ll always love him. But I love other things too. I love New York, I love this job here at the magazine. I love that jungle out there, I love life. Maybe I do want it all. There’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t have to compromise, I don’t have to give up things, I don’t have to turn myself inside out to get it all. All I have to do is get my priorities straight. Right or wrong?”
“Sounds familiar, Dory. Familiar and accurate. You’re on the right track. See what talking to an old friend can do for you?” Katy hugged her friend tightly.
“Thanks, Katy. You really helped me.”
“Hey, you did it yourself. I just listened. Did I give you even one piece of advice? Did I say you were right or wrong?”
“You’re right! God, I really did it all myself, didn’t I? I figured it out. I’ve got it together. Well, almost. I have a few more hurdles but I can handle them. I might even have a setback but I know where I’m going. And before you leave I have to know how the profile and layout with Pixie came out.”
Katy laughed. “It’s going to be one of the best pieces Soiree ever put out, I can tell you that. The feedback we’ve been getting is fantastic. Pixie was so divine to work with. She asked about doing a follow-up next year—said she’d come all the way from Hong Kong—and she keeps questioning us about talk-shows. Talk-shows yet!”
“I’m glad Lizzie decided to go with it. Was it hard to get around what Pixie calls ‘old age horny’?”
“Good Lord, no. It’s a work of art. Exquisite taste, I can tell you that. That article generated so much interest, the entire board came to see the last shooting session. They loved Pixie, particularly after that bash at the Sign of the Dove. I sent you the last in-house release, didn’t you read it? Harlow gave you full credit, two whole paragraphs as a matter of fact. He said, and this is a direct quote, ‘We have Dory Faraday to thank for her insight and her courage in bringing this matter to our attention. It’s a topic that most magazines would shy away from. Always being a front-runner, Soiree and the board feel that Faraday showed remarkable foresight in laying the groundwork for such a remarkable profile.’ And he went on and on, giving you fragrant bouquets. I mailed it to you days ago.”
“Not a word yet. I’ll probably find it waiting when I get home tomorrow. When does it come out?”
“Spring issue.”
“Send a dozen copies to Aunt Pixie in Hong Kong.”
“What is she really doing over there?” Katy asked.
“She’s doing her thing. She
stopped by for three days before she left. She hasn’t changed a bit. She’ll live to be a hundred and enjoy every day of it. Griff loves her; they get along wonderfully.”
“How could he not like her? She’s one of the most remarkable women I ever met. Age certainly does have its moments. Give her my regards when you write to her.”
“I’ll do that. It was great talking with you, Katy. I missed you. I’ve missed all of this. I’ll be in touch.”
Katy wrapped her arms around Dory. “Any time. See you.”
Dory drew the dead bolt and changed for bed. She’d think about all this tomorrow when she got back to Virginia.
Dory deplaned the following morning at National Airport. It was close to the lunch hour and the winter sun was glinting brightly through the long glass windows in the terminal. As she waited for the conveyor to deliver up her packaged shoe boxes her eyes kept swinging over the travelers. It was silly to think she might see the man she’d met the afternoon before, but she couldn’t help herself.
Feeling more disloyal to Griff than she liked, she scooped her parcels off the conveyor and headed for the parking lot.
The town house seemed alien with its wealth of greenery. For some reason it irritated her. She adjusted the thermostat and hung up her fox coat. Annoyance cloaked her when she looked at the messy bed. She hadn’t missed the littered breakfast table with the toast crumbs and empty coffee cup. Woman’s work! she thought nastily. One leg of Griff’s pajamas hung over the hamper. A wet and soggy towel was wadded up in the basin. One slipper was stuck under the door, preventing it from closing. “The hell with it!” Dory exploded as she made her way downstairs. She fixed a cup of strong, black coffee and sat down to drink it. When she was finished she would exercise for an hour and start to get back into shape. A salad for lunch and dinner and she would be off to a good start. Griff could have steak and salad. No more gourmet meals. No more a lot of things.
Four days to make a decision. Her eyes flew to the calendar. Four days. Ninety-six hours. Five thousand seven hundred and sixty minutes.
Griff. She had to think about Griff. If she went back, what would happen to their relationship? It was a known fact that distance did nothing for love. It did not make the heart grow fonder. Could she make it without Griff? Did she really want to go back? When she had left the Soiree offices she had stood outside, looking up at the office windows. She recalled saying, “This is where it’s at.” The words stunned her at the time and gave her food for thought as she made her way uptown to Saks.
If that was true, what about her time here with Griff? What did that count for? Was it a trial, a jumping-off point? Exactly what was it? A haven. A safe place to be for a while. Not permanently, but for a while.
When had “not permanently” become a part of her thinking? When she made the decision to take a leave of absence and return to school and move in with Griff, some secret part of her believed it was forever. It was to be a modern relationship that would eventually lead to marriage. She could admit that to herself now.
She loved Griff. Loved him heart and soul. A part of her would die if she left; this she knew as sure as she knew she needed to breathe to stay alive. But she needed more. There was no challenge here. She was making so little contribution to life. Her stomach churned with her thoughts. God, what should she do? How had she ever allowed herself to get to this point? Finding no answers, her eyes swept to the calendar and the red X’s.
She was across the room to the phone in a lightning quick moment. She flipped the calendar to the back “note” page and punched out the number she wanted. Her breathing quickened as she waited for someone on the other end of the phone to pick it up. “Senator Carlin’s office. May I help you?”
“Yes. This is Dory Faraday. Several months ago Soiree magazine spoke to both you and the senator about doing a profile of him when the Senate offices adjourned for the holidays. I’d like to discuss a mutual date if he’s in.”
“As a matter of fact you just caught him. He’s already packed to leave to return to New York for the holidays. One moment, I’ll fetch him. He’s talking to someone in the outer office.”
An omen. It was an omen, she was sure of it. Dory’s throat tightened as she waited for Drake Collins to come on the line. Even though she couldn’t be seen, she brushed her hair back from her forehead and rubbed her index finger across her lips.
“Miss Faraday. Soiree magazine said you’d be getting in touch with me. I thought you’d forgotten.” His voice was deep. A smile was in that voice, she could hear it.
“Senator, that’s very amusing. I don’t think the woman has been born who could forget you. If I’m to believe your press, you have charisma. That’s the main reason I want to do this profile. You could consider it a public thank-you for all those breathless females who ran to the voting booth.”
A low chuckle came over the wire, sending a chill up Dory’s arms. “My first rule when taking office was never to get caught up in my own press releases.”
Dory laughed. “When can we get together?”
“I’m free from the day after Christmas until the third of January when we go back in session. I believe my secretary gave you my home address.”
“Yes, she did. I want to interview you on your home turf and perhaps do some pictures of you both there and in Washington. And at Ollie’s Trolley, complete with pictures of you and Nick. That’s a must.”
“Will it be a problem for you to come to New York?” Was that an anxious tone in his voice? Dory wasn’t sure, but if it was, she liked the idea.
“No,” she replied without hesitation, “Tell me, is there a particular lady in your life?” She held her breath, waiting for a reply. “Senator, I’m not asking for myself. If there is someone close to you, our readers would like to know. Pictures of the two of you together having lunch, jogging in Central Park, that sort of thing.”
The low chuckle came over the wire again, but no answer to her question was forthcoming. Dory licked at her lips and smiled. “You’re engaged and married to your career, is that it?”
“Now, you’re talking my language. Until the right lady comes along we’ll go with that. I’d like to chat with you longer, but I want to catch the shuttle. I’ll tell you what. Let me get settled in, pick up a few groceries and I’ll call you back tomorrow and we can set up a date. Have a nice Christmas, Miss Faraday.”
“I will, Senator, and . . . enjoy your holidays.”
Dory stared at the phone for long minutes after she replaced the receiver. It was a new beginning. Her first major decision since moving into the town house. It was something concrete, something she could get her teeth into. Something she wanted to do, damn it. Something she was going to like doing.
Picking up the phone once again, Dory punched out the number for Soiree, catching Katy just before she left for lunch. “Katy, I’ve made contact with Senator Collins and now I’m in a fix. Can you wire me everything we have on him? If I’m going to appear intelligent on this interview, I’ve got to know something about the man. Express mail would get it here before noon tomorrow and that’ll give me a chance to read it over.”
Dory felt good. She’d gotten the ball rolling, and all she had to do was follow along. It was easy! Why had it seemed so difficult during these past months?
The niggling voice Dory lived with questioned her about Georgetown. An excuse for me to move here with Griff without the commitment of marriage, she answered it honestly. I’m not ready for that doctorate, not yet. Maybe never. Maybe next year, but it will be for the right reasons. I have things to do, places to go. I’m just not ready.
She certainly was clearing all the cobwebs out of her mental closets today.
How she hated that kitchen calendar. The notation in green lettering told her Griff’s mother would arrive the following day.
Esther Michaels was a lovely woman, a young, fiftyish widow running a small advertising agency and making a go of it. She and Dory had gotten along well at their initial meeting, e
ngineered by Griff, in New York. The talk over dinner had centered on the theater. Esther was into theater, the ballet, and jogging. She was a rail-thin, gaunt woman, eating on the run and trying to nurse a peptic ulcer at the same time. Dory liked her because she was Griff’s mother. Esther’s eyes told her that she approved her son’s choice. Dory was pleased when they left the restaurant, promising to meet again one day for lunch. It was the kind of promise all busy people make. Some day. Maybe. It wasn’t important.
Dory felt annoyed that Esther was coming, but Griff had knocked himself out for Pixie. How could she do less? She couldn’t. But, she admonished herself, I don’t want to entertain her. Not now, when things are so up in the air, so uncertain. Surely Esther would notice the strain. She might comment and then she might not. She might prefer to let Griff and Dory handle their affairs in their own way without offering advice. She didn’t want advice from Esther. From Pixie, yes. Pix would never steer her wrong. Pix could always see both sides of an issue, drunk or sober. Esther would side with her son. Dory knew that Esther wouldn’t feel charitable toward her if she thought Dory was casting her son aside.
Her head ached. She rubbed at her temples trying to erase the nagging ache. If anything, it intensified. She could call Esther and tell her she would love to have her for a visit, for a day, but not for a full week. She couldn’t handle a week. She would be lucky if she could get through a full day. That’s what she should do. But would she do it? Her shoulders stiffened imperceptibly. Griff wouldn’t like it if she changed Esther’s plans.
I don’t want her here. It’s going to cause me emotional turmoil, and I have enough going on right now. A call to Griff would settle it. Dory would feel him out, see what he thought.
No, damn it! She wouldn’t call Griff, or if she did, it would be to tell him her decision. If he didn’t go along with it, that was his problem. Since it was she who would be with Esther most of the time, it should be her decision.
Balancing Act Page 31
