The Sea Star

by Nash, Jean

  And so it was settled, so easily, so naturally, that Susanna began to wonder if the doubts Augusta had raised about Jay were merely the foolish misapprehensions of an over-excitable parent. Of course Jay was going to marry her; he had asked her to meet his family. As far as Susanna was concerned, that was surely as binding as a formal proposal.

  Jay’s sister Morgan and her family lived in a small enclave called Gramercy Park, which reminded Susanna of a neat London square in Regency England. On closer inspection, though, the spot was uniquely New York. Stately houses, some with cast-iron grillwork, surrounded a private park. Inside the park, a water nymph fountain spouted water from two tiers. Gravel walks lined a large eclipse. Tall trees raised denuded branches high against a silver-gray sky. It was a serene oasis set in the midst of a helter-skelter city. Susanna was charmed beyond words by its beauty.

  “I’d love to live in such a community,” she said to Jay on that snowy Christmas afternoon as he escorted her up the steps of the Harper house. “I’ve never seen anything more picturesque.”

  He looked down at her rose-colored cheeks and bright eyes. Snowflakes nestled in the fringe of curls on her brow and on her dark lashes. In a halo of a white fur hat she looked liked a snow sprite. “I thought you said you could never live anywhere but Atlantic City.”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted. “In the summertime. But I’d like to spend my winters in New York.”

  He dropped a kiss on the tip of her icy cold nose. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

  He rang the doorbell. Presently, an elderly butler answered and ushered them into the house.

  “Mr. Jay,” he said, “welcome, and happy Christmas.”

  “Happy Christmas to you, Parks. It’s good to be back. Susanna, Parks has been with our family for aeons.”

  That was easy to believe, for Parks looked well past seventy. When he took their wraps and the packages the coachman brought in, Susanna imagined she heard his bones creak.

  “Where’s my brat?” Jay asked Parks.

  The older man frowned disapprovingly. “Miss Morgan,” he emphasized, “is in the family parlor.”

  Even as he spoke, a petite dark-haired figure, clad in holiday red, came bounding down the hall with the exuberance of a teen. “Jay!” she cried and flung herself into his arms.

  Jay’s eyes were alight with undisguised pleasure. He held her at arm’s length to have a good look at her. “Get hold of yourself, madam,” he said with a laugh. “You’re the mother of four children. Conduct yourself accordingly.”

  “Don’t be a stick,” Morgan said tartly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen you? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, staying away all this time.” Then, to Susanna: “You must be Miss Sterling. Oh, you pretty creature!” She gave Susanna a hug and a resounding kiss, disconcerting her but at the same time pleasing her. “May I call you Susanna? Good! I knew you’d be beautiful. Jay loves beautiful things. Come along and meet my family.” She encircled Susanna’s waist with an arm. “They’re dying to meet you.”

  Swept along by this whirlwind, any feelings of self-consciousness Susanna may have had were instantly dispelled. Morgan rattled on as they went down the hall. As Susanna looked at her piquant face, her vivid blue-gray eyes and perky mouth, she had the comfortable feeling that she’d known this ebullient chatterbox all her life.

  “Here they are!” Morgan announced to her husband and sons as she entered the family parlor. “Daniel, boys, come say hello to Uncle Jay and Miss Sterling.”

  They were a handsome family—the father slim and blond with a dashing mustache, and the boys, ranging in age from ten to five, all smaller editions of their beautiful mother.

  The boys attacked their uncle like happy monkeys, wrapping themselves about his arms and legs, digging into his pockets for goodies, against the futile admonitions of their father. But when their mother said, “Boys!” they came to attention at once.

  “Mind your manners,” Morgan said. “Say how-do-you-do to Miss Sterling.”

  In perfect formation, from the eldest to the youngest, each child greeted Susanna, bent over her hand, and kissed it in the French manner. Delighted, Susanna looked wistfully at Jay and wished that she had such lovable young sons.

  “Sit down,” Morgan said. “Have you two had breakfast?”

  “Hours ago,” Jay said, joining Susanna on the settee.

  The boys arranged themselves at Jay’s feet and at his side. He was looking at all of them with pride and affection. Susanna was glad he liked children. She wanted five or six at least, four boys like these angels, and one or two girls.

  “What have you brought us, Uncle Jay?” asked Harry, the youngest, perching precariously on the arm of the settee.

  Jay took him on his lap and chucked him under the chin. “You’ll have to wait until after dinner to find out, Sir Snoop. You know the rules.”

  “Pooh to the rules!” the child said sassily. Then, catching sight of his father’s stern look, he leaned over to Susanna and said with a cherubic smile, “You’re excruciatingly beautiful, Miss Sterling. Are you Uncle Jay’s wife?”

  Susanna laughed, enchanted with him, and wished she could answer in the affirmative. “No, I’m not, Harry.”

  “Well, you ought to be,” he said. “I’ll wager you’d let me open my present now.”

  “That will do, Harry,” said his father. “Get down from your uncle’s lap, if you please. You’re wrinkling his trousers.”

  “Let him stay,” Jay said, holding on to the boy. “I so rarely get to see these scamps.”

  “Whose fault is that?” Morgan asked pointedly.

  “Don’t bicker,” Daniel said to her. “That’s Cornelia’s province.” He turned to Susanna. “There’s nothing my sister-in-law Cornelia loves more than a quarrel. Even Jay, who has the patience of Job, finds her difficult to tolerate at times. Cornelia can rouse him to anger faster than anyone I know.”

  Susanna thought suddenly of Dallas. She thought, too, of something Augusta had said to her. Only those who love each other can hurt each other so deeply. “I think it’s natural for brothers and sisters to quarrel,” she said to Daniel. But she really didn’t think that at all.

  “Susanna,” Morgan said brightly, “Jay told me that you manage your hotel all by yourself. How admirable!”

  Susanna gave her a grateful smile. It was obvious that Morgan had sensed something was troubling Susanna, and in a tactful way, she was trying to lift her spirits.

  “You’re very kind to think me admirable,” Susanna said, “but I’m only doing what I love. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if it weren’t for the Sea Star.”

  “The Sea Star. What a lovely name!”

  “My grandfather chose it. He had a bit of whimsy about him.”

  Jay gave her hand a brief squeeze. “You’ve inherited it, I think,” he said affectionately.

  She returned his smile warmly. Jay seemed different in the company of his family, more relaxed and spontaneous, much less reserved. Coming to New York, Susanna reflected, was surely the wisest decision she had ever made.

  Morgan asked Jay when Ford and Augusta would be arriving.

  “Their plans changed,” he said. “They’re spending the holidays at Ford’s hunting lodge in Newburgh.”

  Cornelia and her family arrived just then. Resplendent in jade silk and a matching plumed hat, she swept into the room in a flurry of cold sable and a redolent cloud of expensive perfume.

  “What a trip!” she exclaimed, sinking down on a chair with the sinuous grace of an ancient Egyptian queen, which she resembled. “There’s nothing I dislike more than traveling during the holidays.”

  “And a happy Christmas to you, too, Cornelia,” Jay said ironically.

  He rose, went over to her, and bent to kiss her. She absently patted his cheek.

  “Happy Christmas, all. I’m sorry I was rude.” She sounded anything but sorry. “But it really is too much, packing for days, then enduring hours on th
at drafty train. I don’t know why I do it.”

  “You do it because you love us,” Morgan said to her sister, her tone as ironic as Jay’s. She greeted Cornelia with a kiss, then everyone greeted everyone, except Susanna, who sat alone on the settee feeling like Gulliver in the land of the Houyhnhnms.

  “Susanna!” It was Jay who finally remembered her. “Come meet Cornelia and her family.”

  He presented Susanna as if she, not his sister, were a queen worthy of homage. The children, twin boys and a girl, greeted her shyly. Senator Guy Prescott, a weary-looking man with the sadly apologetic eyes of a bloodhound, jerked her hand up and down as if it were a pump handle. Cornelia extended a regal hand, perhaps expecting Susanna to kiss the imperial seal.

  “How do you do, Miss Sterling?” she said indifferently, then turned to her sister. “Morgan, I hope dinner’s ready. I’m hungry as a bear. I haven’t had a bite since early this morning.”

  Later, as the family dined on a holiday goose with all the trimmings, Susanna thought sourly, And what did you bite this morning, Mrs. Prescott? Your husband? One of your children? A venomous serpent?

  What an odious woman, Susanna thought further as the conversation grew gayer and louder with each delicious course. How could one sister be so different from the other? Morgan was a darling, obviously Jay’s favorite, while Cornelia was a harridan with not a saving grace in sight.

  Morgan was talking about New Year’s Eve. “We’re going to have the grandest gala to welcome the new century. It’s to be a double celebration, Susanna. You’ll be our guest of honor.”

  “I?” Susanna was pleased but puzzled. “Why?”

  “Your birthday is on New Year’s Day, isn’t it?”

  “Yes it is,” Susanna said. “I’d forgotten.”

  “As one grows older,” Cornelia commented, “one makes it a habit to forget birthdays.”

  Susanna bristled as Jay said silkily, “Being years older than Susanna, Cornelia, you must be intimately familiar with the practice.”

  “And you, being the oldest of us all,” Cornelia retorted, “must have invented the practice.”

  “Touché!” Jay laughed, nipping a quarrel in the bud. Susanna would have preferred he crack her jaw.

  After dinner, everyone gathered around the decorated fir tree in the drawing room and exchanged gifts. The boys hooted over their trains and tin soldiers. Cornelia’s daughter, a pretty child of seven, was shyly grateful for her storybooks and dolls. The adults were as voluble as the boys with their exclamations of appreciation. As the stacks of crumpled wrapping paper and discarded ribbon mounted, the room took on the look of a gaily colored junkyard.

  Amid the noise and confusion, Jay drew Susanna out into the deserted hall. Before they left, she picked up a small package that she’d placed under the tree earlier. As they settled on the rococo bench facing a console table and mirror, Jay said, “I love my family, Susanna, but I wish they were a bit less noisy.”

  “They are exuberant,” Susanna admitted, “but I like them. I’ve never been at a large family celebration. My father was an only child, and my mother’s people were scattered all over the country. I never met any of them except for my grandmother from Cape May, who died when I was six. I barely remember her.”

  Jay watched her for a moment, his eyes gravely thoughtful, then he lowered his head and impulsively kissed her cheek.

  “What was that for?” she asked, warmed by the gesture.

  “For being so sweet,” he said with a smile. “I’ve never met anyone sweeter than you.”

  Before she could comment, he asked, “What’s in that package you’re clutching so tightly? I suspect by the way you’re holding it that it must contain the family jewels.”

  “Hardly,” she laughed. “It’s your Christmas gift.” She handed it to him. “I hope you like it.”

  He opened the box to reveal a gold watch and chain, very simple, very stylish, and obviously costly.

  “Why, you little devil. So this is what you were doing when you wandered away from me that day at Tiffany’s.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Do I like it?” He removed the watch and chain he was wearing and replaced it with hers. “I’ll never wear another timepiece as long as I live.”

  “I’m so glad,” she said, relieved. “I had the hardest time deciding what to buy for you. You don’t seem to need anything. The salesman at Tiffany’s was very helpful.”

  Jay pulled a small box from his coat pocket. “Let’s see if I can please you as much as you pleased me.”

  Susanna’s heart thumped. The shape of the box suggested that it held a ring. She lifted the lid eagerly, but was sharply disappointed by what she saw. Inside the box was an exquisite hair clip in the shape of a star—a sea star—worked in diamonds and sapphires and set in precious platinum.

  “Oh,” she said. “It’s lovely, Jay.” Her disappointment couldn’t have been plainer.

  “You don’t like it,” he said.

  “No, I do!”

  “I can’t take it back,” he said, let down by her reaction. “I had it specially made for you. I had thought—”

  “Jay, I do like it, honestly!” She lifted the ornament from the box, sorely regretting her ungracious behavior. “Here, put it in my hair. I want to see how it looks.”

  But he only held the star in his hand, looking at it as if it were a catchpenny little bauble from Mr. Woolworth’s five-and-dime store.

  “It was a bad idea,” he said in such a crestfallen tone that Susanna cringed inwardly. “It seemed appropriate at the time, though. I was giving back to you what, in a way, you had given to me. You see, the Sea Star has come to mean as much to me as it does to you. This was my way of telling you that.”

  “Jay, I love it,” she insisted, “I really do.” Her voice throbbed with emotion. “It’s a wonderful piece and such a beautiful sentiment. I didn’t know you cared so much about the Sea Star. I thought you considered it only an investment.”

  Jay said nothing for a moment; his expression was unreadable. The jeweled star in his hand seemed to pulsate with life. Then: “No,” he said quietly. “I might have thought that at the beginning. But it means quite a bit more to me now.”

  Ten

  On New Year’s Eve morning, Susanna received a letter from Dallas. She was so happy to hear from him that she kissed the envelope before tearing it open, then read the letter so rapidly she could barely make sense of it.

  “I hope you’re not still angry with me,” the letter said. “I know I was brutal to you before you left. You probably ran off to New York to teach me a lesson. Well, it worked. It wasn’t much fun spending Christmas on my own.”

  “Oh, Dallas, no,” she said softly. “I wasn’t trying to teach you a lesson.”

  “I’ve been busy lately,” the letter went on. “Charley and I are planning a big ‘do’ to usher in the new century. I wish you could see the revelry I’ve planned. I know you’d be proud of my business sense and ingenuity.”

  Susanna wiped away a tear. Dallas was lonely, and he missed her, she just knew it. She wished she could toss her things in a trunk and catch the next train to Atlantic City. She couldn’t do that, of course. What would Jay think? Oh, but she missed her brother so much it was almost a physical ache!

  She went to the mahogany desk near the window. She would write Dallas at once and tell him she was coming home as soon as she could.

  “Susanna?” Morgan, pretty as a picture in a white ruffled morning gown, appeared at the open door of the bedroom. “Am I disturbing you?”

  “No.” Susanna rose, glad as always to see her. “Come in, Morgan. I was just about to write to my brother, but I can do that later.”

  “Is anything wrong?” Morgan looked at her closely. “You look as if you’ve been crying.”

  “I was,” Susanna admitted with a rueful laugh. “But they were happy tears, Morgan. Jay’s man just brought over a letter my brother had sent to the Imperial. I was glad to hear from him, t
hat’s all. You see, before I left Atlantic City....” She paused, reluctant to burden Morgan with family problems.

  But to her astonishment, Morgan said, “You quarreled, didn’t you?”

  “How could you have known that?” Susanna exclaimed.

  Morgan settled comfortably on the chaise longue. “On Christmas Day,” she said, “your comment about brothers and sisters quarreling was very telling. Don’t forget, Susanna, I have a brother, too. I love Jay dearly, but there are times I could wring his neck.”

  Susanna was incredulous. “But Jay’s so....”

  “Perfect?” Morgan suggested.

  “Why, yes,” Susanna said earnestly. “Or as near to perfection as any man can be.”

  Amused, Morgan smiled. “You are the sweetest girl, Susanna. But at the risk of disillusioning you, let me assure you that Jay is far from perfect. He can be stubborn as a mule when he wants to be. And we’ve had many a battle royal, mostly about his work.”

  “But why?” Susanna drew up a chair next to the chaise, eager to learn more about the man she loved—and from an unimpeachable source!

  “Are you aware of how hard he works?” Morgan asked.

  “I’ve never known a harder worker!”

  “You seem to find that commendable, Susanna.”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “To a degree, yes. But do you know that the last time I saw him was Independence Day? And I can’t remember when I saw him before that.”

  “There’s much that keeps him busy,” Susanna defended him. “I own only one hotel, and I have hardly a moment to call my own. Jay’s responsibilities are so much greater. It’s a wonder he has time for any leisure at all.”

  “That’s what worries me,” Morgan said.

  “Worries you? Why?”

  Morgan looked beyond Susanna, to another time, another place, to a period long vanished but not totally forgotten. “We were poor once,” she said, her eyes filled with memories. “Did Jay ever tell you about that?”