Wanderlust (1986)

by Steel, Danielle

  Chinese gutter brat! she screamed, and without further ado, Audrey slapped her. One good, hard crack across the face, which was exactly what she needed. And she was slightly more subdued after that, but it was five o'clock before Audrey could close her bedroom door and get some rest, and think about what had happened with Charlie. It was difficult to believe she had seen him only a few hours before, and as tears fell on her pillow, she wondered if she would ever see him again. It seemed very unlikely. And suddenly realizing what it meant, and that she was trapped now in her life with her grandfather and Annabelle, she began to sob, thinking of the man she had lost and knowing that he was gone forever. Her eyes were still red when she went down to dinner that night, and no one noticed. Her grandfather was lost in his own thoughts, and Annabelle regaled them all with ugly tales of Harcourt's infidelities, and by the time dessert was served, Audrey actually felt ill. And the next few months were a nightmare. None of the nurses Annabelle hired ever stayed. They detested Annabelle, and her children were hardly more endearing. The other servants resented the new arrivals and the extra work they made, and Annabelle was constantly out, and always leaving Audrey saddled with her children.

  Even her grandfather seemed to find it all wearing, and he took less and less interest in little Molly, who had given him so much joy only months before. But now almost nothing seemed to bring him joy. And Audrey felt unequal to cheer him. Her own heart seemed to drag daily, and only Molly brought her any comfort. All she could think of was Charles. She had attempted half a dozen letters to him but threw them all away. What could she say to him? Nothing had changed. Nothing was ever going to be different. And now, to add to her miseries, Audrey was afraid that her grandfather was failing. He paid no attention to politics anymore, seldom read the paper, and never went to his club for lunch. Audrey mentioned it to Annabelle several times, but she didn't seem to notice. She was far too busy going out with her own friends and every single man in town. She had gone to the opera house several times, all the chic restaurants, several dances, and she didn't want to hear about her grandfather, or her sister, or her children.

  Look dammit, Audrey was losing patience with her by Christmas Eve, when she announced that she was going out with friends, and didn't have time to dine with her grandfather and Audrey. You could at least spend an hour with him, Annie. Don't forget, there was ice in her voice that had never been there before, he supports you.

  So what? He doesn't have anyone else to support, does he? And he supports you too. You spend time with him. You have nothing else to do. She had nothing but contempt for her older sister. She had been there taking care of her all her life, and she didn't see why things should be any different now. She was an old maid anyway, wasn't she? And no man would want her now, now that she had saddled herself with that stupid Chink baby. She didn't make any bones about it to her friends, she had even insinuated more than once that the baby might be Audrey's. But Audrey didn't care. She loved Mai Li as though she were her own baby, and she didn't give a damn about local gossip. She was only sorry to see Annabelle ruin her life, whoring around, but no amount of lecturing or entreating seemed to reach her. She was determined to waste her life on weak men and strong drink, and Audrey had given up trying to change her. She was a spoiled, unpleasant girl, and Audrey had Mai Li to cling to now. It hurt her to see the way Annabelle lived, but she realized that there was nothing she could do about it, and she admitted to herself now that Annabelle had always been spoiled. Only the drinking and her recent excesses had made her worse. But it saddened her to see it. The divorce was a bitter one, and Harcourt had appeared at the house more than once, raging against Annabelle and her lawyers. Her grandfather instructed the butler not to let him in anymore. He was usually drunk when he showed up anyway, and he instigated ugly scenes between himself and Annabelle, neither of them making much sense, but throwing lamps and pieces of jade was something her grandfather would no longer tolerate, he told Audrey.

  I'm sorry you have to put up with it at all, Grampa.

  I suppose I should buy her a house somewhere. he sighed, but I'm too old to worry about it now. And I'll be gone soon anyway. You and she will both own this house when I'm gone, and it's certainly big enough for both of you, and your motley crew of children. he smiled. He was leaving them joint ownership of the Tahoe house too, and Audrey wasn't very sure of the wisdom of that. She would have much preferred to live elsewhere alone, and not share anything with Annabelle, who was certainly no pleasure to live with. But she didn't say anything to her grandfather about that, except to chide him for saying that he would be gone soon, but she was afraid he might be right. He had lost considerable weight in the past few months, and he was beginning to sleep all the time. She had to rouse him now to take his daily walk, and most of the time when she and Mai Li came in to see him before dinner, or in the early afternoon, he was sleeping. Mai Li was walking now, and teetering on tiptoe as she careened across the room, her hair still standing straight up, and her eyes wide with delight. On Christmas Eve, Audrey had dressed her in red velvet, with a tiny red satin bow in her silky black hair, white stockings and tiny black patent leather shoes. It was a long, long way from Harbin, where she had been born, as Audrey looked at her with pride and handed her to her grandfather. Little Hannah was already asleep in her bed, and Winston had been taken back upstairs by the maid in disgrace, after breaking a crystal decanter and his great-grandfather's composure. The other two children still had no nurse, and Audrey took care of them most of the time, since Annabelle was never there. He looked at Audrey now, with Molly, as everyone now called her, on his knee.

  Where's your sister tonight, Audrey? I believe she went to a dinner at the Stantons. How unusual for her to be out. he said sarcastically and knit his brows as he looked at Audrey. You ought to do something more with your life than baby-sitting for her brats all the time, Audrey.

  She'll get things sorted out eventually, Grampa. But she no longer believed it herself. She was going to have to put her foot down, but she hadn't wanted to cause any problems in the house. It made him nervous whenever that happened. Most things made him nervous these days, the doorbell, the phone, the sound of cars outside. He complained about everything moving too quickly, and everything being too loud, in spite of the fact that he was slowly losing his hearing. But he remembered a far gentler world, and suddenly all of the changes around him upset him. Audrey reassured him as much as she could, and she had her hands full keeping him happy and well cared for. It was more difficult now to find people to work in the house, people weren't as desperate as they had been a few years before, and they preferred to work in factories or stores. They didn't want the restrictions of working as domestics. And more than once now, Audrey found herself scrubbing a wall, or beating a carpet, or using the Hoover in the rooms that she lived in. But there was no sign of that now as she sat in a dark blue silk evening gown, beside the fire, on Christmas Eve, as Edward Driscoll was dozing.

  She sent the baby upstairs to bed, and they sat that way for a long time, as she sipped a glass of sherry, and thought back to the previous year, when she had been in China, singing Christmas carols with the children in the orphanage. Thinking of them brought Charlie to mind again, and she wondered if he was already in Egypt. Her heart was heavy just thinking about him, but she knew now that it was over. She had taken off his ring months before and put it carefully in her jewel box. She had had a Christmas card from James and Vi, and they didn't mention him at all. They only said that they hoped to see Audrey again in 1935, and urged her to come and visit them in Antibes the following summer. She would have liked nothing better, but with her grandfather slowing down she couldn't imagine leaving him for the summer.

  On the Ides of March, Mai Li became one year old, and two days later, Edward Driscoll had a stroke that left him without speech and paralyzed on his left side. His eyes looked at Audrey in anguish as she moved quietly about his room giving instructions to the nurses and waiting for the morning and evening visits from t
he doctor.

  It had taken her two days to find Annabelle to give her the news. She had been in Los Angeles for a week, going to the races with friends and she hadn't been sleeping in her hotel room at night, or even bothering to answer the messages Audrey left her. And Audrey was livid when she finally found her.

  What if something happened to one of your children?

  You're there, aren't you? Faithful Audrey who never went anywhere and could always be counted on. She suddenly felt a boiling rage spill over in her, and had Annabelle been there, she might have slapped her. She was making a spectacle of herself all over the state, with both single and married men, and she seemed to be just as outrageous as Harcourt, who was having a flagrant affair with the wife of one of his best friends, and seemed to be in the gossip columns almost daily. It was too bad they hadn't stayed married, Grandfather had commented once, they deserved each other. But now, it wasn't Harcourt Audrey was thinking of when Annabelle finally returned her call with an air of boredom.

  Grandfather had a stroke two days ago, Annie. You'd better come home now.

  Why? Audrey could feel her whole body go rigid as she listened to her sister's voice.

  Why? Because he's a very sick old man and he might die, that's why. And because he's taken care of you all your life, and you owe him something for that, or hadn't you thought of that before? Annabelle was the most selfish human being she'd ever known, and she was slowly beginning to hate her.

  There's nothing I can do for him, Aud. And I'm rotten around a sick room. Audrey had discovered that when little Winston had gotten chicken pox and then passed them on to both Hannah and Molly. Annabelle had gone to Santa Barbara for a three-week vacation, leaving all three in Audrey's care. And she had never called once to see how they were doing.

  You belong back here. Audrey's voice was like ice now. Not whoring around L.A. Now get your ass back here tonight. Is that clear?

  Don't talk to me like that, you jealous bitch! Audrey was shocked at the venom in her sister's voice. There was no longer a vestige of kindness between them. I'll come back whenever I damn well want to. For what? Her inheritance? But as Audrey thought the words, she realized something she had known before. She could never have lived in that house alone with her sister. Once her grandfather was gone, she was going too. There was nothing to hold her there, or even in San Francisco. She owed Annabelle nothing. She had given her half her life and there was nothing left to give her. It was time Annabelle took care of her own responsibilities, and her own children.

  Audrey sat thinking for only a moment and then nodded. Something had ended for her just then. It was the end of an era. Fine, Annabelle, come home whenever you like. And as she hung up, she felt as though she had been talking to a stranger.

  Chapter 25

  Her grandfather lingered until early June, and then finally breathed his last, as Audrey held his hand and gently kissed his fingers. And even as she closed his eyes, and felt the tears roll down her cheeks, she knew it was a mercy. He had been such a powerful man once, so strong and proud, that to live trapped in a useless body with a failing mind and with a mouth that could no longer speak was the worst kind of prison she could think of. And it was time for him to be free. He was eighty-three years old, and very, very tired of living.

  Audrey saw to all the arrangements with a heavy heart. She had never realized how many terrible details there were, everything from selecting the casket, to the music for his funeral service. There was a minister they had all known who read the eulogy at the funeral service, and Audrey sat in the front row in a black hat with a black veil, wearing a severe black suit and black stockings and shoes. Even Annabelle looked serious on that day, although she looked far less so at the reading of the will, and she smiled cheerfully at Audrey as she crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. He had left a far greater fortune than either of them had hoped for. There were the houses in San Francisco and Meeks Bay, at Lake Tahoe, as well as quite a lot of very solid stock that the girls could live on for the rest of their lives, if they were careful. And Audrey was particularly touched that he had left a small, specific bequest to Mai Li, and had referred to her as my great-granddaughter Molly Driscoll.

  Tears filled Audrey's eyes as she listened, but Annabelle didn't appear nearly so touched. There was a clause that said that either of the girls could buy out the other's share of the houses, but otherwise they could live there together. And Audrey knew for certain that she would not do that.

  Quietly, over the next few weeks, she packed up her things, and put them in boxes in the basement. There were packing boxes and steamer trunks, and a box of the clothes Mai Li had outgrown. There were even her father's albums, carefully wrapped in tissue paper and then linen, and stored away. She would only take a few trunks with her, and her plan was to go to Europe for a few months, and then she would decide what to do from there. She wanted to see Violet and James, and more importantly, she wanted to see Charlie. She wanted to see him more than anything. She was free now, and she had none of the encumbrances she had had before, except Mai Li. She had heard nothing from him since he'd left San Francisco in September. Her heart still ached when she thought of the proposal she had felt obliged to turn down, and she wondered if he would even be willing to see her. She hoped so. He was the main reason for her going to Europe.

  It was late July by the time she finished all the odds and ends that she had to attend to. Everything was packed and put away. Her affairs were in order, and she had done whatever she had to do for her grandfather's estate, and then finally she sat down with Annabelle one day. Annabelle was dressing to go out and Audrey thought she was wearing too much rouge. There was a pantsuit spread out on the bed, and a creamy silk shirt, and she was doing her hair in an upsweep. She had been copying the style of Marlene Dietrich a lot these days, and she was creating almost as much sensation in San Francisco as Dietrich was in Europe.

  You're too pretty to wear pants. She smiled at her younger sister and sat down, and Annabelle eyed her suspiciously. They had spoken little since their grandfather died, and there had been an item in the paper about her the day before, something about her flirting with somebody's husband, and she wondered if Audrey was going to give her a lecture.

  I'm in a hurry to go out, Aud. She spoke nervously and avoided Audrey's eyes, as a cigarette burned in a pink ashtray on her mirrored dressing table. And in the next room they could hear Winston and Hannah and Molly playing and fighting over their toys. They were a rough little crew, but they had been good company for Molly and Audrey knew she was going to miss them.

  I won't take much of your time, Annie. She was wearing a plain black silk dress and she looked older than her years as she looked at her younger sister. She was wearing black to mourn the grandfather they had just lost, but Annabelle seemed not to remember. I'm leaving for Europe in a few days. I thought I'd let you know.

  You're what? She looked horrified, which seemed amazing to Audrey. They hardly saw each other anymore, and when they did it wasn't pleasant. When did you decide that? She swiveled on the seat to her dressing table and stared at her sister, with one eyebrow painted on and the other one missing as Audrey smiled at her.

  I decided a few weeks ago. There isn't enough room in this house for both of us, Annie. And there's no reason for me to be here anymore. I stayed for Grandfather's sake, but he's gone now.

  What about me? Audrey stared at her in dismay, surely she couldn't still expect Audrey to stay and take care of her. What about my children? Who'll run this house? So that was it. Audrey almost laughed at the horror on her face.

  I guess that's all up to you now, Annie. It's your turn. I've done it for eighteen years. She was twenty-nine now, and she had been running her grandfather's house since she was eleven. More than that, she had been taking care of Annabelle's children for her since she had moved in ten months before, and it was high time Annabelle took care of them herself. It's all yours now. She stood up with a small, wintry smile. She still felt the emptiness of th
eir loss and each time she walked down the hall, she missed him. She couldn't even go down to breakfast anymore. She choked looking at his empty place and waiting for him to arrive, to argue with her over what he read in the paper.

  Where are you going to go? Annabelle looked frankly panicked.

  England. The South of France after that, and then I'll see.

  When are you coming home?

  I haven't made up my mind yet. Probably not for a few months. I have no reason to rush back now.

  The hell you don't. She slammed her hairbrush down on the table and stood up. You can't just walk out on me like that.

  Audrey stood up and looked down on her much smaller sister. She was smaller in stature as well as spirit. I didn't really think you'd notice.

  What's that supposed to mean?

  We're not exactly close anymore, Annie, are we? Her voice was gentle and her eyes were sad. It wasn't supposed to have ended up that way, but it had. There was nothing between them anymore, nothing except unpleasantness and hard feelings and mutual disapproval.

  Why are you doing this to me? Annabelle started to cry and her mascara started to run in black rivers down her cheeks. She looked awful as she sat down again and stared up at Audrey. You hate me, don't you?

  No, I don't.

  You're jealous of me because you never had a husband.

  Audrey suddenly laughed in the dressing room that reeked of perfume and cigarette smoke. She had never wanted a husband like Harcourt, and the only man she'd ever loved had been Charlie. I hope you don't believe that, Annie. I don't begrudge you what you've had, and I hope you marry again one day, a little more wisely this time perhaps, although that seemed unlikely given her taste and wild behavior. It's just time for me to go. I guess I'm like Father. I need to move around. She didn't tell her about Charlie.

  What'll I do with the children? she wailed.

  Get a nurse for them.