The Sea Star

by Nash, Jean

  Susanna had felt guilty then, and sad for her father. What a blow to his pride it must have been to admit that he hadn’t money to spare. After he died and Susanna was operating the Sea Star on her own, she knew even more intimately how difficult it was to coax a profit from the hotel, what with rising costs, competition from the luxury hotels and Dallas’s gambling debts. No wonder her father had been tight with a dollar.

  But now, as she stepped out of the tub and pulled a towel from the warming rack, she realized that there had been no luxury hotels back then. And without Dallas’s gambling debts, the Sea Star would have turned a pretty profit. She wondered, as she dried herself, if Matthew had exaggerated his financial straits and if—perish the thought!—he’d been a little unfair. But then, like the dutiful daughter she’d been reared to be, Susanna dismissed that thought. Papa unfair? It was out of the question. If anyone had been unfair, it was Augusta for leaving him.

  It was a quiet New Year’s Day, quite unlike the festive Eve. Jay had been at his banker’s house all day, trying to find a solution to his problem in Baltimore. He returned to his sister’s house shortly before dinnertime.

  “I’m going to have to go back,” he told Susanna as they settled in the family parlor. “I’ll accompany you to Atlantic City on Wednesday, then take the night train to Baltimore.”

  “Jay, I wish there were some way I could help.”

  “No one can help,” he said. “I’m selling the hotel. One of the creditors made an offer, which I refused, but on second consideration, getting rid of the place seems to be my only solution.”

  She looked down at the ring on her finger and said with some reluctance, “Will it help if I return the ring?”

  “Why?” His eyes were stormy. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “Jay, no!” she said. “I want to marry you more than anything in the world. But proceeds from the ring may hold some creditors at bay until you can raise more money.”

  “Forget it,” he said. “I will never use a personal possession to pay a business debt as long as I live.”

  “Couldn’t you borrow money from the bank using one of your hotels as collateral?”

  He shook his head. “There are notes on all of them. That’s how I raised the money for the new hotel.”

  “What about the Sea Star? It’s free and clear.”

  “I own only half of it,” he reminded her. “I couldn’t borrow enough on it to satisfy my debts.”

  “I could borrow on my half and lend it to you.”

  He looked at her as if she had suggested selling her body. “Thank you, no,” he said grimly. “The day I have to borrow money from a woman is the day I admit failure as a man.”

  She smiled inwardly at this excessive attitude. “Then think about this,” she said sensibly. “I’ll turn over my half of the Sea Star to you. No, I’ll sell it to you, and then you can borrow enough to pay your creditors.”

  “And how will I repay you? In wampum?”

  “How much did you pay for the ring?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. How much was it?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” he said with a frown, “but it cost eight thousand dollars.”

  “Jay!” She was staggered. “Why did you spend so much?”

  “Don’t harass me, woman,” he said impatiently. “Why did you want to know how much it cost?”

  Setting aside her shock, she said, “I’ll accept the ring as payment for my half of the Sea Star.”

  “Don’t be a goose, Susanna. Your half is worth more than three times that much.”

  “You can give me your note,” she suggested.

  “What I’ll give you,” he said ominously, “is the paddling of your life if you don’t stop this nonsense right now.”

  “Jay, please,” she insisted, “let me do something to help you. It’s not as if I’m a stranger. I’m going to be your wife.”

  The oddest look crossed his face. “That’s all the more reason I won’t accept your offer, Susanna.”

  “Please,” she said again. “Let that be my betrothal gift to you. I have nothing else to give you, nothing else that means so much to me.”

  She looked up at him appealingly. She had never looked more beautiful, nor so vulnerable.

  “I...can’t let you do that.” His voice was strained.

  “You can’t stop me.” Her mouth was endearingly stubborn.

  “Susanna—”

  “Be quiet, Jay. The matter is closed. When Ford returns from Newburgh, we’ll sign the necessary documents.”

  Parks entered the room. “Mr. Jay, Mr. Weston and Mrs. Sterling are here.”

  “Speak of the devil!” Susanna said, delighted.

  “Please show them in, Parks,” Jay said.

  Parks left. A moment later, the new arrivals entered the room. Augusta looked lovelier than ever in a new frock of green charmeuse. Ford had a peculiar expression on his face that was part proud, part bemused, and just a little defiant.

  Jay, seeing that look, rose at once. “Ford, Mrs. Sterling, happy New Year.”

  “A happy New Year to you, Jay,” Ford said, “and to you, Susanna. This is a holiday season I shall cherish all my life.”

  “Indeed,” Jay agreed, his voice tinged with suspicion. “The turn of the century is a time not many will forget.”

  Ford’s eyes gleamed. “My reasons are other than that, Jay. You see....” He held out a hand to Augusta, which she took with an intimate smile. “Augusta and I were married on Friday.”

  “Married?”

  Susanna and Jay spoke the word simultaneously. Susanna half rose from her chair, then sank back down on it.

  “I know this is a shock,” Augusta said as they stared at her incredulously. “Ford and I were also shocked when we realized it was what we both wanted.”

  “It was all so sudden,” Ford explained. “That’s why we didn’t invite you both to the ceremony.”

  Augusta went to her daughter with a look than entreated her understanding. “Susanna, aren’t you going to wish us happiness?”

  Susanna stared at her in silence. The situation was absurd. How long had they known each other? Three or four months? What possible motive could Augusta have for marrying Ford? For that matter, why had Ford married her?

  “I do wish you happiness.” Susanna rose, but she couldn’t bring herself to embrace her mother. “Congratulations, Ford.” She moved past Augusta and gave him her hand. “Or should I say ‘Father’?” she added ironically.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Ford said with a smile. “But it will please me immensely if you tell me you approve the match.”

  He held on to her hand, but it was his gentle gaze that detained her. Susanna liked Ford. She had always sensed in him both sensitivity and kindness. Perhaps, she thought grudgingly, and a bit guiltily, those were the qualities that had attracted Augusta. She’d had little enough of either from Susanna.

  “I wholeheartedly approve,” Susanna said sincerely. “Welcome to the family, Ford.”

  He kissed her cheek, then looked at Jay, whose silence had become significantly long.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Jay went to him and shook his hand. “Congratulations, Ford.” He turned to Augusta, his expression unreadable. “Mrs. Sterling—I mean Mrs. Weston, may this marriage bring you everything you hope it will.”

  “I’m sure it will, Mr. Grainger.” Augusta’s expression, like Jay’s, showed nothing of her thoughts. “It has long been my belief that marriage completes a woman—and a man, too.”

  “I quite agree,” Jay said. “Which is the reason I gave your daughter a betrothal ring last night.”

  If Jay’s words surprised Augusta, it was evident to no one. She merely said evenly, “I look forward to the wedding day.”

  Eleven

  Augusta’s marriage to Ford was going to take some getting used to. For one thing, Augusta didn’t intend to return to Atlantic City with Susanna. “I wanted to re
lay the news to Dallas in person,” she told her, “but Ford wants me to meet his brother and his family, so we’ll be spending some time in Connecticut. Give Dallas my love when you get home, darling, and tell him I can’t wait to see him.”

  There were dozens of questions Susanna wanted to ask her mother, but Augusta went out of her way to avoid being alone with her. Although they dined together that night at Morgan’s house, Augusta didn’t return to the Imperial with Susanna. She naturally took up residence at her new husband’s home. And the next day, when Susanna and Jay went to Ford’s house to legalize the transfer of the Sea Star, Augusta was conveniently absent. Ford said she was out shopping and that he didn’t expect her back until every department store in the city had locked its doors.

  “That woman!” Susanna said to Jay the following afternoon when they were on their way to Atlantic City.

  They were seated in the parlor car along with three other passengers. The winter run to Atlantic City was invariably light. Jay had had little to say since signing the contracts that made him sole owner of the Sea Star. Susanna attributed his silence to the fact that he was reveling in the relief of having saved his Baltimore hotel.

  “I’m sorry, Susanna. What did you say?”

  He turned from his contemplation of the snow-covered countryside and gave her his attention. Susanna had the impression that his thoughts were still elsewhere.

  “I was talking about my mother,” she said. “She made it her business to avoid me so she wouldn’t have to answer some very pertinent questions I had for her. I don’t know why I’m surprised, though,” she added scornfully.

  “Oh, the marriage,” Jay said and looked out again at the scenery. “Yes, that was somewhat unexpected.”

  “Unexpected? It’s totally incomprehensible.”

  “Not really, Susanna. Ford’s a wealthy man in his own right, aside from the handsome retainer I pay him every year. That’s one of the principal reasons I wanted him to be my attorney. He has too much money of his own to consider embezzling mine.”

  Susanna didn’t comment. How it must hurt Jay to keep remembering that a trusted employee had betrayed him.

  “Then you think she married him for his money?”

  “What do you think, Susanna?”

  “I...I suppose she did. But, Jay, why did Ford marry her?”

  “I telephoned him last night and asked him that question.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he loved her.” Jay’s tone was ironic. “When I expressed skepticism, he made a few coarse observations about my character.”

  “Your character? I don’t understand.”

  An emotion she couldn’t read flickered briefly in Jay’s eyes. With a shrug, he said, “Ford was just being protective of Augusta, I suppose.”

  “But what did he say about you?”

  “It’s not important, Susanna. If circumstances had been reversed, I probably would have had a few choice insults to fling at him. We had words, but we patched things up before I rang off. I wished him well, and I meant it.”

  He returned his attention to the frozen New Jersey countryside. Susanna watched his averted face with a vague but gnawing uneasiness. What could Ford have possibly said that had so disturbed Jay? For it was that, she suspected, not his Baltimore hotel, that was encasing him in a dark cocoon of thought.

  How good it felt to be back on Absecon Island! As Jay handed her down from the station hack, Susanna looked up at the gingerbread facade of the Sea Star and wished she had the power to throw her arms around the building. Amid a candy-box setting of snow-covered trees and shrubs, it looked so beautiful, so solid, so comfortingly familiar. New York had been a fairyland, exciting and enjoyable, but the Sea Star was reality, the Sea Star was her home.

  “You’ve missed it,” Jay said, taking note of her sparkling eyes and the fetching flush of color in her cheeks.

  “Unbearably!” she said as they mounted the wide front steps. “I didn’t know how much until I saw it.”

  “Susanna,” he said abruptly, taking hold of her arm, “you’ll never be sorry you signed over the place to me, I promise. When this business in Baltimore is settled, I’m going to do everything possible to make the Sea Star the most successful family guest house on the island.”

  She reached up to kiss him. “You needn’t make any promises,” she said softly. “You’ve already made me the happiest woman in the world.”

  “Have I?” he said with a curious intensity. “Is that all you want out of life, toiling in tandem with a confirmed old workhorse like me? Don’t you want more? Don’t you want a young man who has nothing on his mind but the latest fashions, the latest dance crazes? Don’t you crave a society whirl of dinners, high tea with the ladies, the theater twice a week, and a cotillion every month?”

  “No, I don’t,” she murmured, pausing on the porch to nestle against him. “All I want is you.”

  He held her at arm’s length and looked deep into her eyes, his expression deadly serious. Susanna had never seen him like this, solemn, almost somber, but with an inner agitation that radiated from him like a dangerous charge of electricity.

  “Jay, what is it?” she asked, concerned.

  “I’ve never known anyone like you. Sometimes I wonder if you—“ He stopped short, as if suddenly realizing he was speaking his thoughts aloud. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head. “I just wanted to make sure you have no regrets.”

  “You silly man,” she said fondly. “I could never have any regrets where you’re concerned.”

  The lobby was bustling, which was unusual for January. A fresh coat of paint brightened the walls, and there were new chairs, settees, and brass umbrella stands; but Susanna was too busy counting the crowd to notice those.

  “I’ve never seen it so full in the winter,” she said. “I wonder what’s going on.”

  A gentleman unknown to Susanna emerged from her office. Spotting Jay, he walked over to the couple with an outstretched hand. “Jay!” he said, “I wasn’t expecting you back until next week.”

  “Teddy, it’s good to see you.” The two men shook hands. “Susanna, this is Theodore Addison. He’s been managing the Sea Star in your absence.”

  “And doing it exceptionally well, I see. How do you do, Mr. Addison? What’s your secret? How did you manage to corral all these guests in the dead of winter?”

  A smile softened the contours of his somewhat vulpine face. Susanna had seen many men like him during her stay in the city. He had the strikingly aggressive look of a New Yorker about him. He looked too young for a managerial position though. Not yet thirty, Susanna guessed. But he was impeccably groomed, as were all Jay’s employees, and his clever dark eyes fairly snapped with vitality.

  Susanna returned his smile warmly, charmed and impressed by his dynamic demeanor. She was oblivious to the fact that Jay was watching her closely with an expression that, had she seen it, would have alarmed her.

  “I merely exercised some salesmanship tactics,” Addison answered. “When I heard that a group of Philadelphia physicians was planning a conference in Atlantic City, I wrote to their chairman and offered them rock-bottom room rates.”

  “Oh, Mr. Addison,” she said, dismayed, “you shouldn’t have done that. The Hotel Owners Association has a gentleman’s agreement that prohibits price cutting in the off-season.”

  “I’m no gentleman,” he bantered, and Susanna suspected he wasn’t joking. “Besides, Miss Sterling, that ban violates all the ideals of free enterprise. I could not, in good conscience, abide by it.”

  “But, Mr. Addison—”

  “Come now, Susanna.” Jay cut off her further protests. “Teddy did the smart thing. If he had adhered to that agreement, you’d now have an empty hotel, and the Brighton or the United States would be the richer for it.”

  “Jay, it’s not right,” she maintained.

  “Susanna, please.”

  His tone commanded an end to the debate. Susanna was undaunted, but she had no
wish to quarrel in front of a stranger. “Very well,” she said coolly, “we’ll talk of this later. I’m tired. I’d like to rest awhile before dinner.” She turned to Teddy. “Mr. Addison, I’m happy to see that you take your duties so seriously, but if I’d known what you were going to do, I would have insisted that you use my conscience as a guide, not yours.”

  She turned and walked off toward the stairs, leaving the two men staring after her. She knew they must think her rude, but her anger was so great she didn’t care. It didn’t matter to her that she had signed over her ownership of the hotel. The Sea Star was hers. And no one, not even Jay, was going to tell her how to run it.

  When she entered her quarters in the south tower, the rooms seemed stiflingly small, and shabby as well. What a difference from her spacious suite at the Imperial and from the Harpers’ exquisitely decorated guest room.

  I must do something with these rooms, she thought as she opened the trunk the porters had brought up. She took out her dressing gown, a green cashmere beauty she had bought in New York, and placed it on the bed. As she shed her traveling costume, she couldn’t help noticing the contrast between the elegant folds of the dressing gown and the once-white chenille bedspread that was now almost gray from repeated laundering.

  How odd, she thought, slipping into the silky cashmere, that she had seen these rooms for more than twenty years and had never really looked at them. Knowing Jay had changed her, she reasoned. Her life had expanded in ways she had never before imagined. Prior to meeting him, the Sea Star had been her entire world. Now, in less than a year, she’d ridden in an automobile, visited New York, met scores of celebrities, and she was betrothed to a man who had traveled around most of the world.

  Perhaps, she thought, pulling back the bed covers and lying down, her anger at Jay was a bit provincial. Mr. Addison had filled the hotel during its slowest season. If he hadn’t lowered the rates, another hotel would have reaped the benefits. The ban against price cutting had been decided on years ago at one of the monthly meetings of the Hotel Owners Association. Susanna had never voted for it, nor would she have done so had anyone bothered to ask her, a mere woman, for her opinion.