Fine Things

by Danielle Steel

  “What does Jane think of all that?” He was curious about what Liz would have told the child.

  “Nothing. She thinks he's dead. I told her he was a beautiful actor and we got married after school and came out here, and then she came along and he died when she was a year old. She doesn't know the rest, and we'll never see him again, so what difference does it make? God only knows where he is. He'll probably wind up in jail for the rest of his life, and he's not interested in either of us. He never was. I'd rather she have a few illusions about how she came to be at least until later.”

  “I guess you're right.” He admired her. He admired her a great deal. She was a brave girl and she'd made the best of it, and the child seemed to have suffered not at all, thanks to her mother loving her so much. And there was nothing tragic about this girl, she was all guts and heart and beautiful silky blond hair. And she had made a new life for herself.

  California was a good place for that. It was a good place to start a new life. And she had.

  “I teach school here now. I used my parents' insurance money and went to school at night for a year and got the credits I needed for a teaching credential out here, and I love my job. I teach second grade, and my kids are just great!” She grinned happily. “Jane goes to my school too, and the tuition is less that way. That was one of the reasons I decided to teach. I wanted her to go to a decent school, and I knew I'd have a hell of a time paying for private school, so everything worked out.” She made it sound like a success story instead of an agony, and it was. It was remarkable. She had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and he could easily understand how it had happened. “Chandler Scott,” or whatever his real name was, sounded like a male version of Isabelle, although he was certainly less of a pro than she, and she had never wound up in jail.

  “I got myself involved with someone like that a few years ago.” Her honesty deserved his. “A beautiful French girl, a model I met at the store. She had me in the palm of her hand for over a year, and I didn't get a wonderful little girl out of it.” He smiled at Jane, playing outside, and then Liz, sitting across from him. “I wound up feeling used, and minus several thousand dollars and a watch my parents had given me. She was very slick. Someone offered her a movie career, and I found them making love on the deck of his yacht. I guess they come in all sexes and nationalities, that breed. But it kind of makes you cautious about who you get involved with after that, doesn't it? I've never been that close to anyone again, and that was three years ago.” He paused. “People like that make you question your own judgment afterwards. You find yourself wondering how you could have been such a fool.”

  She laughed at him. “You can say that again! I didn't have a date for two years …and even now, I'm cautious … I love my work, my friends. The rest”—she shrugged and threw up both hands—“I can do without.” He smiled at her. He was sorry to hear that.

  “Should I leave now?”

  They both laughed and she got up to check on the quiche she had made, and when she opened the oven door, the aroma of it wafted into the room.

  “Boy, that smells good.”

  “Thank you. I love to cook.” She whipped up a Caesar salad for both of them, handling the dressing as expertly as his favorite waiter at “21” in New York, and she poured out a Bloody Mary for him. Then she went to knock on the picture window and signaled to Jane to come in. She had a peanut butter and bacon sandwich for her, and she arrived at the lunch table carrying the chocolate teddy bear, minus one ear.

  “Can he still hear you, Jane?”

  “What?” She looked confused when Bernie asked.

  “The bear …without his ear …”

  “Oh.” She grinned. “Yes. Next I'm going to eat his nose.”

  “Poor thing. He's going to be in terrible shape by tonight. I'll have to get you another one.”

  “You will?” Jane looked thrilled, and Liz served lunch. There were straw mats on the table and a vase filled with bright orange flowers, bright orange napkins, and pretty china and silverware.

  “We love being here,” Liz explained. “It's such a nice holiday for us. This belongs to one of the teachers at the school where I teach. Her husband is an architect and they built it years ago. And they go east to Martha's Vineyard to visit her parents every year, so they lend it to us, and it's the best part of our year, isn't it, Jane?” The child nodded and smiled up at Bernie.

  “Do you like it here too?” Jane questioned him.

  “Very much.”

  “Did you throw up on the way?” She seemed fascinated and he laughed at her choice of lunch conversation. But he loved her ingenuousness and her honesty. She was a lot like Liz, and she even looked like her. She was a miniature version of her mother.

  “No, I didn't throw up. But it helps when you drive.”

  “That's what Mom says. She never throws up.”

  “Jane …” Liz warned her with her eyes, and Bernie watched them happily. It was an easy, comfortable afternoon, and he and Liz went for a walk on the beach afterwards, as Jane scampered ahead, looking for shells. He suspected that it wasn't always easy for them. It was difficult to be alone with a small child, but Liz didn't complain about it. She seemed to love it.

  He told her what his job was like, and how much he loved Wolffs, how he had wanted to teach himself, but for him the dream had become something else. He even told her about Sheila and how heartbroken he had been over her, and as they walked back to the house, he looked down at her. She was considerably smaller than he and he liked that too. “You know, I feel as though I've known you for years. It's funny, isn't it?” He had never felt that way about anyone before.

  She smiled up at him. “You're a nice man. I knew it the minute I met you at the store.”

  “That's a nice thing to say.” He was pleased. He cared about what she thought.

  “I could see it in the way you talked to Jane, and she talked about you all the way home. It sounded like you were one of her best friends.”

  “I'd like to be.” He looked into Liz' eyes and she smiled at him.

  “Look what I found!” Jane came bounding up to them, hurtling herself between them as she spoke. “It's a perfect silver dollar! It's not broken or anything!”

  “Let me see that.” He bent down to her and held out a flat hand and she placed the perfectly round white shell on his palm carefully as they inspected it. “By George, you're right!”

  “Who's George?”

  Bernie laughed. “That's just a dumb expression grownups use.”

  “Oh.” She seemed satisfied.

  “Your silver dollar is beautiful.” He handed it back to her as carefully as she had given it to him, and as he stood up, he met her mother's eyes again. “I guess I should be getting back.” Not that he wanted to.

  “Would you like to stay for potluck tonight? We're having hamburgers.” She had to watch their budget carefully, but they always did all right. It had been rough in the beginning, but she was good at juggling things now. She made a lot of Jane's clothes, had learned to cook everything herself, she even baked bread, and with friends like the ones who lent them the house in Stinson Beach, they had everything they needed …even Bernie and his bathing suits…. She had been planning to buy Jane one, or maybe two. And instead she had a whole stack of them, thanks to him.

  “I have a better idea.” He had seen the restaurant as he drove through town on the way. “What if I take you ladies out tonight?” And then suddenly he remembered what he had worn. “Will the Sand Dollar let me in like this?” He extended his arms as the ladies inspected him and Liz laughed.

  “You look fine to me.”

  “Then what about it?”

  “Come on, Mommy, please …can we go? …please!” she clamored instantly, and the idea appealed to Liz too. She accepted happily and sent Jane to her room to change, while she offered Bernie a beer in the living room. But he declined.

  “I'm not much of a drinker,” he admitted to her.

  Elizabeth loo
ked relieved. She hated going out with men who expected her to drink a lot. Chandler had always drunk too much, and that had made her nervous about him, but she hadn't been as brave about speaking up about it then. Now she was. “It's funny how annoyed some people get when you don't drink.”

  “I guess it threatens them, particularly if they drink too much.”

  It was so easy being with him, she couldn't get over it. And they had a marvelous time that night. The Sand Dollar had the aura of an old saloon, as people poured through the swinging doors all night long, to stand at the bar, or eat the enormous steak and lobster dinners they served. It was the only show in town, Liz explained, but fortunately the food was very good, and even Jane dove into her plate and attacked a small steak with glee. It wasn't often they ate so extravagantly. And she fell asleep in the car on the way back, and Bernie carried her inside and laid her gently on her bed. She was sleeping in the house's tiny guest room, right next to the room where Liz slept, and they tiptoed back to the living room.

  “I think I'm falling in love with her.” His eyes met Liz', and she smiled.

  “It's entirely mutual. We had a wonderful time.”

  “So did I.” He walked slowly to the door, wanting to kiss her, but afraid it was too soon. He didn't want to scare her away, he liked her too much. It was like being in high school again. “When will you be back in town?”

  “Two weeks from today. But why don't you come back next week? It's an easy drive from town. You can do it in forty minutes or so, if you can stand the winding road. We'll have an early dinner and you can go back afterwards. Or you can even stay here if you want. You can have Jane's room, and she can sleep with me.” He would have preferred to sleep with her himself, but he didn't dare say it to her, even jokingly. It was much too soon to suggest anything like that, and he didn't want to jeopardize anything. It was also going to be delicate with Jane so much a part of her mother's life. She was always there with them, and he had to consider that. He didn't want to do anything to harm her.

  “I'd love to come out, if I can get out of the store at a decent hour.”

  “What time do you usually leave work?” They were whispering in the living room so as not to wake Jane, and he laughed.

  “Between nine and ten o'clock at night, but that's just the way I am. That's no one's fault. I work seven days a week,” he confessed, and she looked shocked.

  “That's no way to live.”

  “I have nothing better to do.” It was a terrible admission, and even to him it sounded awful. And now maybe he would have something better to do …with them …“I'll try to reform by next week. I'll give you a call.” She nodded, hoping he would. The beginning was always so difficult, establishing the contact, laying out one's hopes and dreams. But it had been easier with him. He was the nicest man she had met in a long, long time. And she followed him outside to his car.

  She thought she had never seen as many stars as hung over them that night, and she looked up at them and then at him as he stood looking at her for a long time. “Today was wonderful, Liz.” She had been so honest with him, and so warm. She had even told him the truth about how she had had Jane, and her disastrous marriage to Chandler Scott. It was nice to know those things right from the first sometimes. “I'll look forward to seeing you again.” He reached out and touched her hand, and she held his for a moment before he slipped into his car.

  “So will I. Drive home carefully.”

  He grinned at her, peering out from the open window as he laughed. “I'll try not to throw up on the way back.”

  They both laughed, and he waved as he backed down the driveway and then drove off, thinking of her, and Jane, talking and laughing over dinner.

  Chapter 6

  Bernie made it back to Stinson Beach to dinner twice the following week. Once Liz cooked for him, and the second time he took them out to the Sand Dollar again, and then he came back on Saturday again too. And this time he brought a new beach ball for Jane, and several games, including a ring toss they played on the beach, and all kinds of sand equipment Jane loved. And he even brought a new bathing suit for Liz. It was a pale blue, almost the color of her eyes, and she looked spectacular in it.

  “Good Lord, Bernie …this has to stop.”

  “Why? That bathing suit was just sitting there on a mannequin this week, and it looked so much like you, I had to bring it out.” He was pleased. He loved spoiling her, and he knew no one ever had before, which made it even more fun to do.

  “You can't spoil us like this!”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh”—she looked sad for a minute and then smiled again—“we might get used to it, and then what would we do? We'd be banging on your door at the store every day, begging for bathing suits and chocolate teddy bears and caviar and pate …” He grinned at the image she conjured up.

  “I'll just have to see to it that you keep supplied then, won't I?” But he understood what she meant. It would be difficult if he faded from their lives, but he couldn't envision that yet. On the contrary he couldn't envision it at all.

  He came back two more times the following week, and this time on the second night Liz got a teenager from another house to babysit for Jane and they went out alone, to the Sand Dollar again, of course—there was nowhere else to go—but they both liked the food and the atmosphere there.

  “You've been an awfully good sport about taking both of us out.” Liz smiled across the table at him.

  “I haven't figured out which of you I like best actually. So it works out pretty well for now.”

  She laughed. He always made her feel so good. He was such a nice easygoing happy man. And she told him so.

  “God only knows why.” He smiled. “With a mother like mine I should have grown up with a twitch and several tics, at least.”

  “She can't be that bad.” Liz smiled and he groaned.

  “You have no idea. Just wait… if she ever comes out here again, which I doubt. She hated it in June. At least she liked the store. You have no idea of how difficult she is though.” He had been avoiding her calls for the last two weeks. He didn't want to have to explain to her where he had been spending his time, and if she'd been calling him, she would know that he'd been out a lot. “Just cruising the bars, Mom.” He could just imagine what she would have to say to that. Of course going out with a girl called “O'Reilly” would take the cake. But he couldn't tell Liz that yet. He didn't want to scare her off.

  “How long have they been married?”

  “Thirty-eight years. My father is up for a Purple Heart.”She laughed at the thought. “I'm serious. You don't know what she's like.”

  “I'd like to meet her sometime.”

  “Oh my God! Shhh …” He looked over his shoulder, as though expecting to see his mother standing there, with an ax in her hand. “Don't say a thing like that, Liz! It could be dangerous!” He teased and she laughed and they talked halfway through the night. He had kissed her the second time he had come to the beach, and Jane had even caught them at it once or twice, but the romance had gone no further than that. He was nervous about Jane, and it was more comfortable courting Liz in an old-fashioned way for now. There would be plenty of time for other things when they moved back to town, and Jane wasn't asleep in the next room, with only a paper-thin wall between them.

  He came back that Sunday to help Liz pack up. Her friends had told her she could stay one extra day, and she and Jane were obviously unhappy to go home. It was the end of the vacation for them, and they wouldn't be going anywhere else that year. Liz couldn't afford to take any trips, with or without Jane, and their mood was so gloomy on the way home that Bernie felt sorry for them.

  “Listen, you two, why don't we go somewhere else sometime soon? Maybe Carmel …Lake Tahoe? How does that sound? I haven't been anywhere yet, and you ladies could show me around. In fact, we could do both!” Liz and Jane let out a whoop of glee and the next day he told his secretary to make reservations for them somewhere. She got a condominium i
n Lake Tahoe for the three of them, he had specified three bedrooms to her, and she was able to get it for the following weekend, as well as Labor Day, and when he told them that night they were thrilled. Jane blew him a kiss as Liz tucked her into bed, but Liz looked concerned as she came out to sit in her tiny living room with him. She had a one-bedroom flat, and Jane slept in the single bedroom, while Liz slept in the living room on a convertible couch. It became rapidly obvious to him that their love life would not improve here.

  She looked worried as she looked up at him apologetically. “Bernie … I don't want you to misunderstand …but I don't think we should go to Lake Tahoe with you.”

  He looked like a disappointed child as he stared at her unhappily. “Why not?”

  “Because this is all so wonderful …and I'm sure it sounds crazy to you …but I can't do these things with Jane. And if I let you do them for us, what are we going to do afterwards?”

  “After what?” But he knew what she meant. He didn't want to, but he did.

  “After you go back to New York.” Her voice was as soft as silk, and she held his hand as they sat on the couch and talked. “Or after you get tired of me. We're grown-ups, and it all feels wonderful to us now …but who knows what will happen next month, or next week or next year …”

  “I want you to marry me.” His voice was small and hard and she stared at him. But she wasn't nearly as surprised as he. The words had just come to his lips of their own, but now that they were there, he knew that they were right as he looked at her.

  “You what? You're not serious.” She leapt to her feet and paced the small room nervously. “You don't even know me yet.”

  “Yes, I do. All my life I've been going out with women whom I knew on the first date I never wanted to see again, but I figured what the hell, give it a try, you never know …and two months later, or three or six, I threw in the towel and never called them again. Now I find you, and I knew the first time I laid eyes on you that I was in love with you, and the second time I saw you I knew you were right for me and that you were the best woman I'd ever meet, and if I was very, very lucky, you'd let me shine your shoes for the rest of my life … so what am I supposed to do now? Play games for six months and pretend that I need to figure it out? I don't need to figure out anything. I love you. I want to marry you.” He was beaming at her, and he suddenly knew that the best thing possible had just happened to him. “Will you marry me, Liz?”