by Jean Joachim
“Next to your birth, it was the happiest day of my life. Your father was…a…a remarkable man. I felt so lucky to be marrying him. A brilliant artist, hard worker. And he was the kindest person I’d ever known.” Linda said, her gaze softening. With her hand, she moved a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.
Caroline looked down at her hands. She missed her father. He had a way of making everything better for her and now on her big day, he wasn’t here.
“You miss him don’t you?” her mother asked.
Caroline nodded.
“I do, too,” Linda sighed, “you look so gorgeous…like a model from a bridal magazine. Brad is a lucky man. I hope he knows that.”
“I think he does.”
“And does his mother?” Linda asked, straightening her back, a frown on her face.
“Sort of. I’m not from a wealthy family, which bugs her. But she is impressed with my art, so I guess that evens it out,” A frown clouded the pretty face momentarily.
“She and Brad don’t always get along. That’s why she lives in the carriage house. She’s okay. I don’t let her bother me. Brad does what he wants no matter what she says.”
“I like a man with backbone.”
Caroline walked to the window and looked out. A huge tent shielded the three hundred people attending the wedding from the sun. Waiters were moving in and out with trays of champagne while the guests waited for the ceremony to begin. Shifting her focus, she caught her reflection in the glass. She was struck by the sadness of her expression and on her wedding day, one of the happiest days of her life. She returned to watching the people laugh and talk. Everyone was happy. An important wedding was about to take place.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Linda asked, coming up behind her daughter and putting her arm around Caroline’s shoulders.
She shook her head, feeling the slight pinch of tears at the back of her eyes but she blinked them back. The happy crowd, the smiling mother, the amazing white dress, the handsome rich groom…it was all there, she thought, but something was missing. Love. She felt an affection for Brad, gratitude for all he had done for her, even a sense of devotion to him…but not that wild, crazy, hotter than hot passionate, all-consuming, burning-you-up love. She’d expected to feel it, waited to feel it, assumed she would feel it. And now the wedding was about to begin, and she was sad because she didn’t feel it.
She remembered spending the summer with her mother in their cabin at The Birches when she was thirteen. She had a crazy crush on an eighteen-year-old boy named Mickey. She worried for a minute at the silly thought she had been more in love with him then than she was with Brad now. A polite knock sounded on the door and Sondra White, Brad’s mother, entered the room without waiting for an answer.
“You look beautiful, elegant, Caroline. As my son’s bride should look.” She picked at an imaginary piece of lint on Caroline’s bodice as her critical gaze swept over the gorgeous bride.. “Are you ready? Everyone is here and it’s time to begin.”
Caroline nodded her head and took her mother’s hand. Linda laced her fingers with her daughter’s, straightened her pink suit skirt and moved alongside the bride to the door.
Chapter Nine
Their first Christmas proved to be both a wonderful and worrisome time. Dinner parties, gallery cocktail parties and painting occupied most of Caroline’s time. Brad, in charge of the family’s investments, traveled frequently to Boston to meet with financial advisors and brokers. The White family money was substantial, well over one hundred million dollars, and caring for and growing their investments was a heavy burden on Brad.
Sondra occasionally joined Caroline for dinner when Brad was out of town and the two women established a peaceful co-existence. Sondra soon found Caroline to be warm and caring, a great relief to the mother of a wealthy son. Linda visited often, staying in the apricot guest room for a weekend or to keep Caroline company when Brad traveled. Though she tried to hide it, Caroline could see that her mother was ill and she grew concerned. One evening, Caroline confronted Linda, who broke down and told her daughter the truth about her illness.
“Cancer?” Caroline’s heart raced.
“It’s in remission now, Caroline,” Linda said.
Caroline looked open-mouthed at her mother.
“And when were you going to tell me?”
“You’ve been so busy, adjusting to marriage, painting, socializing…I didn’t want to be a burden. So they’ve got it and it’s not going anywhere. Sort of an early Christmas present.”
Caroline smiled weakly at her mother’s joke but her brow furrowed with apprehension. While she had grown used to Sondra and things were fine with Brad, her mother was her anchor.
Linda and Caroline set about decorating the house for Christmas, no small chore in a residence so vast. With eight bedrooms, six baths, a study, formal living room, sun room, den, kitchen, dining room, breakfast room, foyer and Caroline’s art studio, many yards of garlands and swag as well as several Christmas trees were needed. Ornaments were bought by the case and several staff members were recruited to assist. Harry lugged in supplies day after day as Caroline planned a small family party for Christmas Eve. Linda helped her shop for presents. Her special gift to Sondra was a portrait made from one of Brad’s favorite pictures of his mother and a portrait of Brad.
While Caroline was feeling the spirit of Christmas, a nagging doubt still plagued her. She was still waiting to feel the crazy hot love for Brad she had hoped would develop within their marriage. Although she enjoyed making love with her husband and he appeared to crave her almost constantly, it didn’t seem to be enough for her and she wondered if he noticed.
“Only red roses for the house this month, Nancy,” Caroline said into the phone to the florist.
Linda brought a plate of fruit and cheese into the den to join Caroline as they poured over lists and selected decorations.
“We will need holly, mistletoe and evergreen boughs…oh, tons of those, you know the front hall stairs, right I want to cover the railing. When? Fine,” she said and hung up the phone.
“Everything on schedule?” Linda asked her.
Caroline took a hard look at her mother. “You look pale.”
“Being cooped up all the time…winter sun…you know,” Linda said, turning away.
“Let’s go away after the holiday. Somewhere sunny.”
“But you’ve got painting to do,” Linda protested.
“I’m almost finished with the three for Madison Duguey and nothing else is due until March. I have time.”
“Will your ardent husband want you gone?” Linda said, hiding a chuckle behind her hand.
“Absence makes the heart…and everything else…grow fonder. Besides, he’s got a business trip coming up anyway. He’ll never miss me.”
****
The Christmas Eve party was perfect. Everyone proved themselves to be in a festive mood, with no shortage of good cheer.
Brad scooped Caroline off to bed early so they could have some time alone. After he made love to her enthusiastically, taking his time to revel in her softness, beauty and responsivness, he went to his closet and pulled out a box.
“I have a special present for you,” he said.
Her eyes lit up when she saw the box move.
“Go ahead, open it.”
She tore off the top and found an adorable pug puppy inside.
“A puppy! She’s so cute! Thank you,” she said, planting a kiss on his lips.
“Don’t want you lonely when I’m away, or anyone else warming your bed…” he said.
She gave him a sharp look.
“That would never happen,” she stated.
A smiled curled the corners of his mouth as he picked up the puppy and placed her in Caroline’s arms.
“What are you going to name her?”
She bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment. “Trixie. I’m going to call her Trixie.”
He laughed and stroked the tiny pug. Caroline gave hi
m a kiss which turned passionate, and they made love again, while the new puppy curled up in her little box and went back to sleep.
Chapter Ten
The next year was spent in a whirlwind of parties, gallery openings and painting. Caroline viewed her painting as if it were a regular job and disappeared into her studio every day to paint. During the year, her mother’s condition worsened. Brad consented to having Linda moved into their house where Caroline watched her die over the next six months.
Caroline’s deep pain began to reflect in her paintings which became soulful and melancholy. Brad urged her to change her theme because her sales fell dramatically but he was unsuccessful. In January, Linda died. Caroline was inconsolable for months, wandering the frozen grounds of the estate like a lost puppy. Trixie brought consolation to her mistress, staying by her side at all times, especially when Brad was away.
When the spring flowers came out, she began to sketching the budding flowers on the grounds. She recalled how much her mother loved spring flowers and decided to memorialize her with paintings. She translated her and her mother’s love of spring into her art and her paintings gained fresh life. Slowly, her art began to sell again.
As her career took off again, Caroline noticed Brad traveled more. He was frequently out of the house two nights a week at dinners with patrons, investors and gallery owners. Caroline never questioned why she was not invited along on these excursions. Secretly, she was relieved to have dinner with Trixie and curl up with a book or watch a movie by herself.
Brad could be overbearing and controlling, always pushing her to paint more and being critical of her social skills. She had given up on the crazy, mad love feeling and convinced herself she was content with her life as it was. She put up with Brad, enjoyed the rich lifestyle, although she was acutely conscious something was missing.
Several women, wives of his friends, took her into their social circle though she didn’t have much in common with them. She went to lunch with them occasionally, and on shopping trips to the toniest stores. Sometimes they planned cocktail parties together. Caroline felt like an outsider, a poor relative. She couldn’t help but wonder, if she wasn’t with Brad, would this group of women even say “hello” to her when their paths crossed in town?
Caroline spent more and more time alone. She began to think about her past, happier times with her family. She missed her mother, her best friend and trusted confidant, terribly and became strongly attached to Trixie, her little pug companion. She took the small dog with her everywhere when Harry was available to drive. He watched the pooch while Caroline was in a store or restaurant. Brad complained about the amount of money being spent cleaning dog hair from the Bentley, but Caroline ignored him. Lately he seemed to complain about everything.
****
On their third anniversary, Brad was an hour late for dinner. He came in obviously tipsy and Caroline was sure she could smell Chanel No. 5 on his jacket. He smiled broadly and presented her with a diamond necklace.
“For you, beautiful wife,” he said, slurring his words slightly before sinking heavily into a chair in the living room.
Caroline handed him her gift, a small canvas, wrapped. He ripped open the paper to find a portrait of himself she painted from a favorite picture.
“This is great, Caroline, but it won’t go for much.”
“It’s not for sale, it’s for you. For your study. A picture of my mentor, Bradley the great,” she said.
“Is that a slam?”
“Are you an hour late?”
“And if I am?”
“Smelling like another woman’s perfume?”
“Do I? Must have been a woman at the jewelry store…”
“Harry picked up your present this afternoon, Brad, so don’t try to tell me you were there picking it out. I’m sure Sylvia called in the order and Harry picked it up. You almost looked as surprised as I did when I opened the box.”
“Ungrateful! Give it back if you don’t want it. I’m sure I can find another woman who will gladly accept it…and give me something in return,” He sneered at her, taking a big swig of his gin and tonic.
“You get that whenever you ask here, too!” she shot back, whirling around to face him.
“But I have to ask, don’t I?” He replied grabbing her in a tight grip around her upper arm.
“What do you mean?” She asked, stepping back but caught in his vise-like grip.
“You don’t come to me for sex, Caroline. You don’t have the hots for me, do you?” He asked, releasing her arm.
“I enjoy our sex life…what little there is with you gone so much,” She responded, unconsciously rubbing her arm where he gripped it.
“That’s news to me,” Brad countered, banging his drink on the coffee table sloshing some onto the fine wood.
She moved to the open French doors and stood still, letting the soft June breeze ruffle her long hair, but she didn’t say a word.
“That’s okay. Not every woman feels that way about me. There are plenty of women who crave my…attention.”
She turned to face him, tears in her eyes. “And do you…give it to them?”
“Am I unfaithful? Never! I would never do anything to lose you, my lovely talented lady, would I?” he lied.
“That’s all I am to you, Brad, an artist, someone you can mold, brag about. Someone who gives you entrée into the world of art. The truth is, the desire has never been there on your part. Perhaps if you loved me…passionately…I would return the feeling,” she said.
“Passion fades, Caroline. Success is forever.”
Caroline walked to the entrance of the dining room and stopped. “Dinner has been waiting for an hour. I suppose you want another drink.” She sniffed, staring at the half-empty tall glass. Although I doubt you need one.”
“I would love another drink. Harry!” he called, a defiant expression on his face.
The servant appeared almost immediately.
“Harry, another gin and tonic. Bring it to the table, since my wife informs me dinner is served.”
Harry gave a short bow and left the room. Caroline walked into the dining room with Brad right behind her.
Chapter Eleven
By the end of the fourth year of their marriage, Caroline ate dinner alone five nights a week. Brad always offered some plausible excuse for being away, and she knew they were always lies, so Caroline simply stopped asking.
But filling her evenings with friends, galleries and reading weren’t enough for Caroline. Sometimes she’d wander through the many rooms of the grand house at night, trying to find the answer to the puzzle that was her life.
It became clear she and Brad were leading separate lives. Her loneliness, temporarily assuaged by her shallow friends, only grew. Finding no answer to her frustration, she adjusted, the way she always had in the past, and soon living with sadness became normal. Trixie provided some companionship and Caroline’s attachment to the small dog grew.
She tried buying fancier clothes, sexier clothes, but nothing seemed to tempt Brad into staying at home with his wife. When he was home, he drank, often to excess. Sometimes he would fall asleep or pass out without making love to Caroline. When they did go to bed together, Caroline went through the motions, trying to feel something for him.
When Brad picked up on her restlessness, he rearranged his schedule to be home more. He bought a small gift, took Caroline to dinner and the theater and paid her compliments. His increased attentions were designed to keep her off kilter, feeling like she was wrong about him, renewing her hope their marriage could be saved. As soon as she cheered up, cooked his favorite dinners and made romantic plans, he would disappear again, to leave her bereft and confused.
****
Harry watched Brad maintain his balancing act, knowing what his boss was up to. He was instructed to clean out the car after Brad’s exploits, discreetly disposing of pieces of lingerie, jewelry, cosmetics or any other signs a woman who was not Mrs. Bradley Riordan White recently ro
de in the Bentley. He hated it more than anything else he was told to do on the White estate. But he did what he was told.
After one unusually unpleasant encounter between Caroline and Brad over dinner, Harry found a diamond earring in the car. As he prepared to give it to Brad to return to its rightful owner, a bitter taste rose in his throat at his part in this nasty deceit. He slipped the earring into his pocket instead.
Later that afternoon, he picked up Caroline and Trixie from the beauty salon. Caroline looked exceptionally beautiful and Harry smiled shyly at her. Though he was a happily married man, he had a slight crush on the lovely artist. Her gentle ways and sweet demeanor, always respectful of Harry and his family, touched his heart. He hated being part of the charade to keep Mrs. White in the dark about Brad’s peccadilloes. Today, his part in these lies was over.
After he pulled up at the front door and opened the door for Caroline and the rambunctious pug, he spoke up.
“Found this in the Bentley, Miss. Thought it must be yours and quite valuable. Wouldn’t want to lose something like this, eh?” he asked, holding up the single earring.
Caroline took it from his hand and examined it closely.
“Why, Harry, I don’t think…”she started, then blushed when she realized it wasn’t one of hers.
“Will you be needing the car tonight, Miss?” he asked, training his gaze away from her.
She shook her head.
With a slight nod of his head, Harry got back in the car and pulled it into the garage. Her face grim, her eyes filling with tears, Caroline slipped into the house and closed herself and Trixie in her studio. She put on music to drown out the crying.
At five thirty, Harry drove to pick up Brad at the country club where he often went for happy hour. This night he consumed three drinks before he got in the car with Harry. The driver tried to keep a straight face and avoid Brad’s gaze in the rearview mirror but a small smile played at the corner of his mouth.
