The Sea Star

by Nash, Jean

  “Oh, no!” Tears sprang to Susanna’s eyes. Unconsciously, her hand went to the place where she harbored her own precious burden. What would she do if she ever lost it? She knew for a certainty she couldn’t bear it.

  “What did she do afterward?” she asked, aching.

  “After she recovered, she returned to the flat she shared with Kelly. When she told him she’d lost the child, it was the perfect excuse for him to be rid of her.”

  Susanna felt a wave of compassion for the woman she had resented for so long. How afraid Augusta must have been, and how wretchedly lonely. To Susanna, who had basked all those years in blissful ignorance, such a desolate existence was beyond comprehension.

  “Jay, you said her life hadn’t been simon-pure. But knowing what happened, how can you fault her? She must have loved that man. And look how despicably he treated her.”

  “I’m not finished,” Jay said.

  “There’s more?” She swallowed hard.

  “Your mother had nowhere to go after Kelly booted her out. A woman she’d met backstage at the theater offered to lodge her until she got her bearings.”

  “And then?” Susanna asked, surmising the answer. She’d read Stephen Crane’s Maggie: A Girl of the Streets. She knew what happened to abandoned young women alone in New York.

  Jay rose in his restless way and looked down at her somberly. “You’re right, you know,” he said. “No one can fault your mother for what she did. There’s no one alive who hasn’t done something he regrets. Why don’t we leave it at that?”

  But Susanna wouldn’t be put off. Having learned this much, she would know it all.

  “Tell me everything,” she said.

  Reluctantly, Jay said, “The woman who lodged your mother operated a house of assignation.”

  “Do you mean a brothel?” Susanna asked grimly.

  “Not exactly. It was a place where couples went when they wanted... to be alone. It was rather like a hotel,” he explained with a trace of irony. “And your mother, the wife of an innkeeper, had the perfect credentials for working there.”

  “What did she do there?” Susanna had never heard of such an establishment.

  “At first, very little. She was still weak from her ordeal, so the proprietress—her name was Johnson, I believe—simply sheltered your mother for the first month or so. As Augusta grew stronger, she became something of a general factotum, keeping records, making appointments, and the like. In any case, she wasn’t there long.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “One of the clients, an older man, took a fancy to your mother and set her up in her own flat near Washington Square.”

  “As his mistress?” Susanna asked, dismayed.

  “Yes. She remained with him until he died. Shortly thereafter, she took up with his son.”

  Susanna shuddered.

  “He was about the same age as your mother—and he was married. The arrangement apparently suited both of them, because it lasted until shortly before Augusta returned here.”

  Susanna closed her eyes to shut out the unpleasant images of both her father and mother that flickered through her mind. And yet all she felt now, besides a bone-crushing weariness, was a love for her mother stronger than any she had ever felt for her. She understood so much now. That was the reason Augusta had been loath to discuss her past. And the reason she’d been wary of Jay was because she didn’t want her daughter to suffer a fate similar to hers.

  Susanna rose abruptly from the bench. “Let’s go home,” she said in a rush. “I must see her, talk to her.”

  Jay remained where he was, resisting her pull on his arm. “What are you going to tell her, Susanna? That you know about her past? What will that accomplish except to embarrass her?”

  Deflated, Susanna sat down and stared out to sea. No, she couldn’t do that, could she? The fact that Augusta had never told her about the abuse she had suffered at her husband’s hands proved that the memories were too painful to speak about. Just thinking about it now caused Susanna to shudder violently. Her father a wife-beater. The thought sickened her. How could she not have known about it? Was she so blind, so stupid? But Jay’s investigator had said that very few people knew about it, and that those who did had kept silent.

  What was important now, though, was her mother. Susanna had to let Augusta know that the past was over and done with, that what she’d been in New York had nothing to do with who she was today. She was Augusta Weston, devoted wife, caring mother. Somehow, Susanna must show her that no matter what Augusta had been forced to do years ago, Susanna loved her. She always had and always would.

  There was a rainstorm on her wedding day, but Susanna was so happy she was marrying Jay at last that she wouldn’t have cared if there had been a typhoon. The storm broke just as the bridal party was leaving the church. A streak of lightning lit the landscape with an eerie glow. Seconds later, a deafening crack of thunder rent the air, then a torrential deluge of rain erupted from murky gray skies.

  The wind, chill and strong, whipped flowers and shrubs and raised frighteningly high waves on the turbulent ocean. Inland, puffs of dirt rose from the ground as cold rain struck dry soil. Blades of grass were flattened, and the remaining leaves on the trees tore loose from branches, as the wind and the rain in concert launched a brutal assault on the earth.

  When the carriages reached the Excelsior, the rain was drumming down like a waterfall. Protected by the porte cochere, no one got wet while entering the hotel. But when the five reached Jay’s suite, where a wedding breakfast awaited them, Susanna was breathless from the storm and the excitement.

  Redding, Jay’s manservant, took hats and wraps, then told the waiters to serve the meal. Canapés with sliced salmon tempted the palate, along with mushroom omelet, roasted plovers, Provencal potatoes, and apricot cakes with cream of almond.

  Ford and Dallas toasted the newlyweds. Jay kept looking at Susanna as if he couldn’t believe that this incredible creature belonged to him. Augusta kept looking at Jay with a keen weather eye. Susanna kept stealing glances at her beautiful mother and thinking how odd it was that learning the worst about Augusta had only brought out Susanna’s love for her. Impulsively, at meal’s end, she leaned over, embraced her and kissed her.

  Augusta turned to her, both startled and delighted. “What was that for, darling?”

  “I’m so happy today, I can’t contain it!” Susanna laughed.

  “Have you two decided where you’re going to live?” asked Ford, ever practical, even on this festive occasion.

  “We haven’t given it any thought,” Jay said. “We’ll probably divide our time between here and New York. My wife,” he added with a smile in her direction, “once told me she could never live anywhere but Atlantic City.”

  “With you, dear husband,” Susanna said ebulliently, “I’d be content living anywhere on Earth.”

  Dallas, who had been silent throughout the meal, asked, “Will you be taking a honeymoon?”

  Susanna looked hopefully toward Jay, who answered with regret, “That’s out of the question right now. Perhaps next spring—” He stopped, remembering what next spring would bring. “Or the one after,” he amended, reaching across the table to squeeze Susanna’s hand.

  Augusta rose and said tactfully, “We’d best leave the newlywed to themselves.”

  “Oh, no!” Susanna protested. “Don’t go yet. I wanted to talk to you, Mother. You’re leaving for Hartford tonight, and I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again.”

  Jay said to Ford, “You’re going to Hartford?”

  “Yes.” Ford sounded ill-at-ease. “Bobby’s been ailing.”

  “Is it anything serious?”

  “The old problem,” Ford said. “He’s drinking again.”

  Jay gave him an odd speculative look. “That’s too bad,” he said.

  Susanna, intent on persuading Augusta to remain, didn’t see the look. “Mother, can’t you stay a little longer? I so much wanted to spend some time with yo
u.”

  “We’ll have years and years to spend time together, Susanna. This is your wedding day. Enjoy it with your husband.”

  Everyone began moving toward the door. Redding fetched hats and coats. During the flurry of farewells, Dallas managed to draw Susanna aside and whisper in her ear, “I need six thousand dollars in a hurry. Do you think you can scrape it up for me?”

  “Six thousand dollars?” she echoed. “Are you joking?”

  “Keep your voice down!” he hissed, looking furtively toward Jay, who was busy with his guests. “I need it desperately, Sunny. If you don’t have it, ask Jay for it. I know he has it. I need it by Saturday. If I don’t get it—”

  “Yes?” Susanna urged, alarmed by the look in his eyes.

  “If I don’t get it by Saturday, I’ll be dead as a doornail by Sunday.”

  Sixteen

  What an inauspicious way to start a marriage! After everyone left, Susanna stood at the bedroom window, staring out at the driving rain, unaware that her husband was as pensively silent as she.

  Her thoughts were in a turmoil. What had Dallas gotten himself into now? Had he been exaggerating when he said what would happen to him if he didn’t get the money? What was wrong with that brother of hers? Was he never going to start leading a responsible life?

  “Jay....” She turned slowly from the window, reluctant to burden him with a family problem, yet knowing she had no alternative. “I must ask you to do me a favor.”

  “Yes? What is it?”

  He seemed preoccupied. He stood at the fireplace, an elbow resting on the mantelpiece, one foot on the fender, looking into the fire as if mesmerized by the flames.

  “It’s Dallas,” she said hesitantly.

  “What about him?”

  “He needs money—an awful lot of money.”

  Jay looked at her at last, but his thoughts, she saw, were elsewhere. “How much?”

  “Six thousand dollars.”

  Susanna braced herself for an outburst, but Jay merely said, “What does he need it for?”

  “He didn’t say. But he did say that if he didn’t get it by Saturday, he’d be dead by Sunday.”

  Jay uttered a sound of disgust. “That reckless fool. He’s probably been pocketing profits, gambling it away, and his partner found out about it. I know Charley Smith. He won’t murder Dallas, but I’m willing to wager he’ll break a few of his bones.”

  “Jay, no!” she said, horrified. “You can’t let that happen. You must lend him the money.”

  “Lend, Susanna? Do you think I’ll ever get it back?”

  “No! Yes! I don’t know. But you can’t let Dallas be hurt. If he did steal, I know it’s wrong, but—”

  “Susanna, if I give him the money, will it stop him from doing the same thing again?”

  “Of course it will! He’s frightened. This will surely teach him a lesson he won’t forget.”

  Jay eyed her askance. “Somehow I doubt that. A broken arm or leg, on the other hand, might teach him a thing or two.”

  “Jay, please!” she cried. “This is nothing to joke about.”

  “It certainly isn’t, Susanna. Dallas should have realized that before he started picking Charley Smith’s pocket.”

  “I beseech you,” she said desperately. “Lend Dallas the money. He’ll change, I know he will. But you must help him now. If anything happens to him....” Her voice shook. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Jay watched her a moment, her flushed cheeks, her pleading eyes, her once-slender form growing thick with his child. Pregnancy had changed her, had enhanced her bewitching beauty, and it had given her an even greater aura of vulnerability than she had had when he first met her.

  He went to her and put his arms around her. “Don’t upset yourself,” he said with a sudden fierce burst of emotion he couldn’t control. “My God, I can’t bear to see you like this. I’ll help Dallas, if that’s what you want. Now, please stop worrying about it.”

  With a sigh that was a sob, she wound her arms around his neck. Jay’s arms encircled her waist. His mouth, warm and demanding, closed over hers. With a sorcerer’s skill he drew her out of herself and into a sensuous world, weaving a web of enchantment from which she could not escape.

  All earthly cares faded as his mouth left hers and brushed against her cheek, then trailed like a zephyr to her ear. “I want you,” he said, and the words, whisper-soft, started the blood racing hotly through her veins.

  She wanted him, too, wanted him now more than ever. She wanted to feel his strength inside her, to enclose his fiery passion within the depths of her own. They moved as one toward the bed and began to disrobe. In Susanna’s heart, it was the first time, the most important time, that Jay would make love to her.

  In bed, she went eagerly into his arms and gasped with pleasure when he entered her urgently, as if for him, too, this was their first act of love. His kisses increased her pleasure. He kept whispering her name over and over again. As his erotic movements quickened, she rose to meet them, until he filled her, engulfed her with overpowering rapture. Outside the storm grew fiercer, like the tempest of their passion. They pressed closer, heart to heart, until it seemed they were one. Wrapped tight in the embrace of her lover, her husband, nothing mattered to Susanna but the all-consuming tide of his love.

  When at last the storm abated, they still lay close together in each other’s arms. Susanna could feel the beat of Jay’s heart, drumming steadily like the beat of the slackening rain. His hands caressed her back, his lips grazed her brow. His silence, like hers, was one of utter fulfillment.

  “I’ve never felt this way before,” he said softly. In his low voice there was a trace of the same awe and wonder as when Susanna had told him she was carrying his child. “I feel...complete, fulfilled,” he said, as if explaining the feeling to himself. “I don’t want anything. Everything I need is here in my arms.”

  Susanna kissed his warm chest and looked up at him with a smile. “Don’t you want another hotel?” she asked, half playful, half in earnest.

  He thought for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. “No. Not at this moment.”

  “Don’t you want more money?”

  “No.”

  “There must be something you want.”

  She moved sensuously against him, rekindling his passion. He kissed her, a deep, slow, probing kiss that fired all her senses with burning desire. “I want you,” he said. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” Then he made love to her again, more passionately than before, as if fearful that his most precious possession might somehow be taken away from him.

  Jay held true to his word. He lent Dallas the money that very night. But when he talked to his errant in-law, he warned him, “You’ve been leading a charmed life ever since I’ve known you, Sterling, but if you don’t watch your step, your luck is going to run out. This had better be the last time you get yourself in a bind. Your sister is carrying a child. If you do anything to distress her for the remainder of her term, I’m going to see to it personally that you live to regret it.”

  “Don’t threaten me,” Dallas said insolently, Jay’s money secure in his pocket. “If Sunny knew the truth about you—”

  “What truth?” Jay demanded.

  “About the Sea Star. You bamboozled her with your specious charms, and she handed it to you on a silver platter. You not only took what meant most to her in the world, you had to take her virtue, too.”

  Jay’s hands at his sides clenched into fists. “I love her,” he grated.

  “Don’t make me laugh.” Dallas’s tone was contemptuous. “You’ve never loved anything but your hotels. Christ, what chance did Sunny have against you? She loved my father with blind devotion, and you’re as devious and as stone-hearted as he was.”

  “Listen to me, you bastard,” Jay said sharply. “If you ever mention those preposterous theories to Susanna—”

  “Not to worry,” Dallas stopped him. “I’ll be as silent as a tomb about your mercenary mo
tives. But if I need money again, I’ll know where to come. After all,” he added distastefully, “we’re brothers now, aren’t we?”

  On the day after the wedding, Jay left Atlantic City to attend to some unspecified business affairs. So grateful was Susanna that he had saved her brother’s skin that she murmured not a word of protest when he told her.

  Susanna’s love for Jay expanded to new dimensions. She knew how he felt about Dallas, yet he had lent him—no, given him—a great deal of money. Wrapped in a golden haze of wedded bliss and impending motherhood, Susanna saw this generous gesture as undeniable proof of Jay’s love.

  Two weeks after Jay left Atlantic City, Susanna visited the Sterling family physician, who confirmed the fact that her child would be born in late March or early April.

  “Limit your activities,” Dr. Griffith advised, for he had known her all her life and was well acquainted with her obsessive work habits. “Have that husband of yours engage someone to take over your duties. Heaven knows he’s wealthy enough!”

  “That’s what everyone thinks,” Susanna said, “but people forget that Jay’s expenses are almost as great as his income.”

  “His problems, too, seem to be greater than other people’s.”

  “What do you mean, Dr. Griffith?”

  They were seated in his private office following the physical examination. Griffith picked up the morning newspaper and handed it to Susanna. The banner headline read: “Employee of Local Hotel Owner Found Dead in New England.”

  Susanna was first puzzled, then stunned when she read: “Theodore Addison, formerly employed at the Sea Star Hotel on Pacific Avenue, was discovered dead in his quarters at the Fenway Hotel, which he managed, in Boston, Massachusetts. Local authorities believe Mr. Addison took his own life, but would divulge no further information. Jay Grainger, owner of the Fenway, who recently opened one of the finest hotels here in the city, could not be reached for comment.”