by Janet Dailey
“I didn’t mean it literally.” Luz smiled faintly. “I was trying to describe the feeling, the mood.”
“If you say so.”
A salt breeze from the ocean fanned her heated skin. Luz felt like a well-fed cat lazing in the winter sun, purring softly. It was quiet and peaceful, the only noise the rustling of palm fronds stirring in the wind, and the tumble of the surf rushing onto the beach on the other side of the Kincaid winter estate. She opened her eyes to gaze at the landscaped lawn of her parents’ home, its towering palms and flowering shrubbery bronze-tinted by her sunglasses. This place had never seemed like home to her, maybe because she wasn’t raised here. For Luz, Virginia was home.
A figure dressed in capri pants and an oversized broadcloth shirt approached from the direction of the estate greenhouse. A floppy wide-brimmed hat completely shaded the face, but Luz had no difficulty recognizing her mother. A shallow basket filled with cut flowers was hooked over her arm.
“Here comes Audra,” she said.
“Right,” Mary acknowledged in a dry voice.
As Audra walked onto the sandstone deck that aproned the round pool, she glanced their way. “You girls had better get out of that sun before you ruin your skin. A little gives you a healthy glow, but too much and you’ll look like old saddle leather.” Without a break in stride, she continued to the umbrellaed tables near the low, geometrically designed house.
Luz and Mary exchanged a silent look and pushed out of their lounge chairs. “I wonder if I’ll ever be able to sit by a pool without hearing her say that,” Mary murmured as both women slipped on long caftans. “Oh, well, it was getting too hot.”
A uniformed maid was at Audra’s side when they joined her at the table. Once Luz had believed servants stood by windows watching for their employer’s return or else possessed some uncanny sixth sense. It had been disappointing to learn they were usually warned in advance by a phone call, such as now—the gardener had likely called the house to advise the staff that Mrs. Kincaid was on her way back.
Audra handed the basket of flowers to the maid. “Be sure to put them in water immediately. And bring some tea.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Then she disappeared through the sliding doors on the glass-walled side of the house facing the pool and lawns.
Within minutes, she returned with a pitcher of tea and tall glasses of ice. After the drinks were poured, the talk flowed easily into family news. With everyone so spread out and the grandchildren in school, Audra insisted on these weekly visits so that they could all remain in touch with what was happening.
“I mentioned to Michael your decision to let Rob skip college this fall,” Audra said. “He agreed with it. Rob is so serious. Michael felt it would teach him to relax and have fun.”
“The change in Rob is remarkable since I told him that Drew had agreed to let him sit out a year. He had a party that weekend to celebrate. It must have been some party,” Luz declared with a laugh. “He phoned the following Monday and said he was broke—and could I deposit some more money in his checking account.”
“I know at the moment he’s keen on polo, but I hope that you’ll see that he does some traveling.”
“I think I’ve found a way for Rob to do both. You remember I promised to take Trisha to Paris in June, as a graduation present. June is also the month when England’s polo season is in full swing. So I’m trying to arrange, through some of Jake’s British polo friends, for Rob to play on one of their teams. We can all three fly to London first, then Trisha and I can go to Paris. It will be perfect for both of them.” She was pleased with her plans.
“That’s very clever. I’m surprised you thought of it, Luz,” her mother remarked, then continued, “Speaking of plans, I have decided to close the house in Virginia permanently. I’ve spoken to Frank about possibly selling Hopeworth.”
“Oh, no,” Luz murmured.
“I know. We all have a sentimental attachment to the place, but I thought it was a shame to let the house sit vacant, unused.” Audra had never approved of waste. Luxury was one thing and waste was another. “However, Frank reminded me how advantageous the stud farm is as far as taxes are concerned and advised me to keep it.”
“Bless Frank,” Mary muttered under her breath, and Luz silently agreed.
“Now comes the matter of actually closing the house. I was hoping that one or both of you girls would supervise the packing that needs to be done. There are paintings that should be crated and stored. I don’t know how many trunks are in the attic, a lot of them filled with things you children had when you were small. You might want to sort through some of them to see if there is anything you want to keep. You can check with Michael and Frank to see what they might want done with their things.” Audra took their agreement for granted.
Luz glanced at her sister. “It might be fun.”
Mary nodded, but seemed hesitant. “It isn’t a small project. It’s likely to take a couple of weeks to do it right. With my brood, I don’t know if I can be gone that long. Do you think Drew can survive without you for two weeks?” she teased.
“He has to go to New York sometime in the middle of February. I had planned to go with him, although on these business trips, I rarely get to spend much time with him. Maybe I could go to Virginia instead. I’ll talk to Drew and see what he thinks.” Two weeks ago she wouldn’t have bothered to consult him, she would have simply gone ahead and made her plans, but things were different between them now. “I’ll let you know next week. In the meantime, see what you can arrange.”
Finding the time to discuss the trip with Drew was not as easy as Luz had expected. Both were so busy the next few days, Drew with business appointments and men’s club meetings and she with a charity auction, that during the few moments they saw each other they joked about passing one another in the driveway.
At seven o’clock on Friday evening, Luz returned from her appointment with the beauty salon and noticed that Drew’s brown Mercedes wasn’t parked in the garage. Frowning, she entered the house and went straight to the morning room, where she found Emma sitting at a desk located in an alcove.
“Have you heard from Drew?” She paused inside the room and set her purse on the round breakfast table.
Emma turned, removing her bifocals. “He called a half hour ago to say he was going to be late and not to wait dinner.”
“But what about the concert tonight? We have tickets.” She unfastened the single-buttoned jacket of her ruby-red suit and shrugged out of it. “Am I supposed to meet him there?”
“No. He said for you to go without him, that he wouldn’t be able to make it.”
Disappointed, Luz sagged a hip against the table and thoughtfully fingered the gathers at the neckline of her silk charmeuse blouse. “I don’t really want to go by myself,” she murmured and sighed dejectedly. “You’re welcome to use them if you like, Emma. I think I’ll just spend a quiet evening at home for a change.”
“Thank you. I think I will go.”
Luz gathered up her jacket and purse and left the room to go upstairs and change. She had plenty to do to make the evening alone pass. She wrote letters to the children, assuring Rob that she exercised his horses regularly and suggesting to Trisha that they might spend a weekend together when she went to Virginia. All the while she consciously listened for the sound of Drew’s car coming up the driveway.
The later it became, the more troubled she became. At ten o’clock, she called his office, using the private number that didn’t go through the switchboard. There wasn’t any answer. Thinking it meant he was on his way home, she fixed some fresh coffee. An hour later, Luz knew her assumption was wrong. Her mood alternated between worry and irritation. It was half past eleven when she finally heard his car outside. She was at the rear entrance waiting for him when he came in, her arms folded in front of her.
“Well, hello.” He smiled in surprise and bent to kiss her cheek. “I didn’t expect you to be up still. How was the concert?”
“I did
n’t go. Where have you been? I tried the office but no one was there.”
He curved an arm around her shoulders and drew her along with him as he walked to the living room. “I took Claudia to dinner. It seemed the least I could do after keeping her so late at the office. I would have called to tell you, but I thought you were at the concert. I’m sorry if I worried you.”
“You did.” Now that her fears were calmed, irritation was left. “You must have had an awfully late dinner.”
“Not really. I’m afraid we got to talking and lost all track of time,” he admitted.
“I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Drew paused, letting his briefcase rest atop the backrest of the lemon-yellow sofa. “I don’t know if I can explain how much I enjoy talking to Claudia. I can discuss things with her that I can’t talk to you about. Granted, you would listen, but you couldn’t respond intelligently. Claudia is a lawyer, so we can converse on the same level. Conversations with her are always so stimulating.” He glanced at her. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I hope your feelings aren’t hurt.” He appeared suddenly impatient with her. “I mean, it is business.”
“I understand.” It was part of his life she didn’t share—a large part. And legal shoptalk bored her, she knew that. Since he couldn’t talk to her about it, that left a void between them. Now another woman was filling that void. To say it didn’t hurt or that she didn’t feel that she had somehow failed him would be to lie.
“I’m sorry for causing you needless worry and for unknowingly keeping you up.” He swung his briefcase back to his side.
“I made coffee.”
“No thanks. I’d just as soon go to bed. I’m supposed to meet John Randolph at the golf course bright and early in the morning so we can play a round before the course gets too crowded.”
“But there was something I wanted to talk to you about,” Luz said.
“Can it wait? I’m really beat.” A minute ago when he was talking about Claudia he hadn’t acted tired. He’d been very animated with the pleasure her conversation gave him.
“All right.” But she trembled with the force of her resentment, a resentment centering around Claudia Baines. She resented her for giving Drew what she couldn’t, and she resented Drew for taking it. And she resented herself for feeling the way she did about both.
“Thanks.” He kissed her lightly. “Good night, dear.”
All honeymoons end sometimes, even second ones. Luz wondered if this was the end of hers as she watched Drew pass through the doorway to the entrance hall where the oak staircase rose to the suite of rooms on the second floor.
Over the weekend, Luz didn’t mention to Drew that Audra wanted her to go to Virginia. She had no reason. If Drew remembered that she had wanted to talk to him about something, he didn’t bring it up. The first of the week, Mary called to schedule the trip and Luz suggested the last two weeks of February.
That evening, Drew excused himself from the dinner table. “I’m going into the library. I have to make some phone calls.”
After he left, Luz lingered at the table over a second cup of coffee. The mirrored ceiling reflected the flickering yellow flames of the candles on the table. So romantic a setting, she thought, but not for one. She blew the candles out, then took her coffee into the living room.
The door to the library-den was not tightly closed. She heard Drew laugh, and gravitated toward the sound. She wandered into the room, thinking she’d sit and have her coffee there and tell him about her coming trip to Virginia once he had finished his phone calls. But she didn’t have a chance to sit down in the leather wingback chair by the fireplace.
The minute he saw her, Drew said into the phone, “Just a minute.” Then he placed his hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone. “Did you want something, Luz?”
“No.” She smiled, shaking her head.
“This is business,” he said and waited, not removing his hand from the telephone to resume his conversation. It took her a minute to realize he expected her to leave the room. He didn’t want her listening to what he said. She felt strangely embarrassed, like a child being told her company wasn’t wanted in a roomful of adults. Self-consciously, she retreated, unwilling to stay when she was so obviously not welcome. But once outside the room, Luz stopped, wondering why she had let him prod her into leaving.
As she turned to go back inside she heard Drew say, “Sorry, Claudia. You were saying?”
Abruptly, she swung away from the door and crossed the living room to the liquor cabinet behind the wet bar, where she poured a liberal amount of whiskey into her coffee. Claudia. She was growing to hate that name. It was so obvious to Luz that the woman was playing up to Drew. How many times had she heard others say that most successful career women slept their way to the top? The woman was using Drew. Surely he knew it. Maybe he didn’t care. Her insides felt twisted, and the whiskey didn’t seem to smooth them out.
She didn’t know how long she nursed her whiskey-laced coffee nor how much time passed before Drew emerged from the den. What little of her drink remained in the bottom of her cup was cold when he joined her at the wet bar.
“I think I’ll fix myself something,” he said, walking behind the counter. “What are you drinking?”
“Just coffee,” she lied.
“I think I’ll have something stronger.” He picked up a glass and added cubes to it from the icemaker. “Isn’t there anything worth watching on cable tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think I’ll check.” He splashed some soda in with the whiskey and picked up the glass. “Are you coming?”
“No.” As he started to walk away, Luz called him back. “Drew. I’m going with Mary to Virginia. Audra wants us to close up the house. I’ll be gone about two weeks.”
“When?” He appeared unconcerned that this was the first he knew of it.
“The middle of February. We leave the fourteenth.”
“I leave the same day for New York. I rescheduled the trip and moved the departure time ahead a few days. I was going to tell you, but it slipped my mind. What time does your flight leave?”
“We haven’t made reservations yet. Mary’s handling that.”
“It would be convenient if we could go to the airport together. It would mean one less car parked in the lot.”
“Yes.” Luz didn’t know what she expected his reaction to be, but it wasn’t this near indifference.
* * *
The airport was crowded with winter-weary northerners seeking the tropical clime of Palm Beach. Through the flood of fur-wrapped arrivals milling by the doors, Luz saw her sister directing a porter laden with luggage to the ticket counter where she waited.
“I’ve already checked my bags,” Luz said when Mary joined her.
“Good.” The porter set her cases on the scale, and Mary handed him a tip. While she waited for her luggage to be tagged and the claim stubs to be stapled to her ticket envelope, she turned to Luz. “Where’s Drew? Has his flight left already?”
“No. He went to the newsstand.”
After the baggage was checked, they moved away from the congestion at the counter. “Should we wait here for Drew or go to the gate?”
“Here he comes.” Luz saw him walking toward them, a winter topcoat thrown over his arm. He was carrying a briefcase along with a folded newspaper and a package.
“What do you have there, Drew?” Mary nodded at the heart-shaped red box peeking out of the plastic sack and sent a sly glance at Luz.
“Some Valentine chocolate for Claudia,” he replied smoothly and appeared not to notice the way Luz visibly stiffened. “She’s a chocoholic. I would have bought you a box, Luz, but I know you don’t like candy.”
“No, I don’t, but I suppose it’s the thought that counts.” She was mouthing phrases all the while she was wondering why he’d bought Claudia a gift when he was on his way to New York … why he was buying Claudia a gift at all, es
pecially a Valentine present.
“She should be here.” Drew searched the throng of travelers. “There she comes.”
Luz followed his gaze and located the vivacious brunette, wearing an eye-catching burgundy silk blouse. A long plaid shawl was thrown over one shoulder, a plaid that matched the pleated challis skirt. A thin black leather briefcase swung from her hand. She smiled and quickened her step when she saw Drew.
“Well, I’m all checked in, ready to go,” she said to him before acknowledging the presence of the other women. “Hello, Mrs. Thomas. You look stunning, as usual. So do you, Mrs. Carpenter.”
Actually, Luz felt very drab in her oatmeal-and-brown suit and brown bowler-styled hat with the front brim turned down. She wished she had chosen something more colorful, but the nubby material stood up under traveling so well.
“This is her first trip to New York, so naturally she’s excited,” Drew volunteered, and Luz felt a second shock wave go through her. Not once had he mentioned that Claudia was accompanying him on the trip. Did he think it was a minor detail?
“Naturally,” Mary said, filling the silence that Luz couldn’t. No words would come out, and she was afraid of what they might be if they did.
“Can you imagine? All those years living in Connecticut and I’ve never been to New York City,” Claudia declared. “Though I doubt I’ll have time to see any sights.”
“You’re from Connecticut?” Mary asked.
“Didn’t Drew tell you? We’re from the same town. We even know some of the same people.”
“From different eras, of course,” Drew inserted dryly. “She wasn’t even born when I left there.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Claudia shrugged aside the age difference. “It still proves what a small world it can be.”
“Yes, it does,” Mary said, continuing to fill the blank spaces.
“Our flight is scheduled to begin boarding in ten minutes,” Drew said. “We should go to the gate.”
“All right. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mrs. Thomas.” She thrust a hand at Luz.
“You, too.” She managed to recover enough poise to shake hands. Then Drew was bending to kiss her cheek.
