White Sand, Blue Sea

by Anita Hughes

  “These must cost a fortune, they’re like the earrings the girls wore at Mount Holyoke. They received them for their twenty-first birthday or from boyfriends who attended Harvard and drove convertibles.” She handed the box to Sebastian. “Take them back and I’ll book our trip to Stellenbosch. A gallery there is interested in your work and we can stop at the Tsitsikamma National Forest and see the rhinoceros.”

  “I didn’t buy them.” He fiddled with the box.

  “Then how did they end up in your pocket?” she asked.

  “Derek gave them to me in exchange for sketching his trout farm in Magoebaskloof,” he explained. “We’ll stay in his guesthouse and eat grilled trout and sleep under a goose down comforter.”

  “You can’t trade a piece you haven’t painted for a pair of diamond earrings,” Hadley spluttered. “What will we use for bus fare and fresh fruit and vegetables?”

  “We’ll hitchhike if we have to and I’ll eat mealie for days to see your eyes sparkle,” he grabbed her hands. “I may not be able to give you a penthouse apartment and steady paycheck and three weeks’ vacation in Hawaii. But we’ll never go hungry and we’ll see the most amazing places. I love you and I couldn’t do this without you.”

  It was impossible to resist Sebastian. He was like a boy looking through a telescope, explaining how he was going to reach the stars.

  “Let me see them on you,” he whispered. He led her to the mirror and fastened the earrings in her ears.

  Sebastian kissed her hair and her neck. He ran his hands over her breasts and circled her nipples. She leaned against him and felt the exquisite tension.

  “They’re gorgeous,” she breathed, a wetness forming between her thighs.

  Sebastian stroked her cheek and whispered, “They’ll look even better when you’re not wearing anything else.”

  He untied the silk sash and let her robe fall to the floor. The diamonds glittered in the mirror and she felt wanton and sensuous.

  She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his chest. He brushed her thighs and she wanted him so badly, her whole body trembled.

  “Not yet,” she murmured, guiding him to the bedroom.

  “I thought we had to dress for dinner,” he whispered, unzipping his slacks.

  “There’s plenty of time.” She lay on the bed and drew him on top of her. “First we have to work up an appetite.”

  Hadley wrapped her arms around him and opened her legs. He moved faster and she felt the warm center forming inside her. He came first and fell against her, his chest slick with sweat. She waited and the center fell away and in its place were endless waves and the sensation of being completely happy.

  “You see,” Sebastian moaned, when they lay on their backs. “Diamonds are the way to a girl’s heart.”

  Hadley took a deep breath and gazed at the velvet jewelry box. Sebastian was wrong; the heady feeling had nothing to do with diamond teardrop earrings. It was the certainty of being in love.

  * * *

  Hadley fiddled with her earrings and glanced around the dining room. The parquet floors were covered with geometric rugs and the cherry sideboard was set with crystal wineglasses and sterling silverware. Twelve-foot glass doors opened onto a lush garden and the walls were lined with abstract paintings.

  Dinner was served at the long glass table filled with platters of lamb skewers and bunny chow and stuffed zucchini. There were plates of boerewors with chakalaka and meatballs smothered in chutney; long rolls filled with steak and stews made of every kind of vegetable. But all these South African foods Hadley loved suddenly made her stomach turn.

  She watched Sebastian chat with a polo player and felt uneasy. They didn’t belong with men wearing Armani tuxes and women in couture gowns. And she shouldn’t be wearing the diamond earrings when they didn’t know if Sebastian would sell another painting.

  But it wouldn’t do any good to give them back to Sebastian. She would talk to him tonight: they would keep a chart of their expenses and make a plan for the future.

  After dinner the men moved to the library and Hadley sank onto a paisley sofa in the living room. She wondered why she was so tired. Maybe it was the rich food or central heating or that she was still slightly ill.

  “You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” a woman said as she approached her. She was in her mid-thirties and wore a red dress and gold pumps. “You must try the banana cream pie. It’s delicious, you can’t help but feel better.”

  “I’m fine,” Hadley said and smiled. “I’m just getting over a cold.”

  The woman nodded. “That’s the problem with traveling to a different continent. When we left Texas it was one hundred degrees and the humidity was so bad, going outside was like taking a bath. I forgot it’s winter in South Africa. We had to stop at a department store in Johannesburg and buy sweaters and boots.”

  “We’ve actually been in Africa for almost a year,” Hadley replied. “But the weather can be unpredictable and it’s easy to get chilled.”

  “A year, how fabulous!” she exclaimed. “My husband and I went on safari on our honeymoon. But it rained the first three weeks and I came down with stomach flu. Of course it wasn’t the flu at all, I was pregnant!” she laughed. “Ten years and three children later and we’re finally finishing our vacation. I love being a parent but I miss grabbing a passport and getting on a plane,” she sighed. “You don’t know how many years we’ve sipped French champagne on New Year’s Eve and tried to imagine we were in Paris.”

  “Sebastian is an artist,” Hadley explained. “We started in Cape Town and took the Garden Route through South Africa. We visited waterfalls and game preserves and ostrich farms.”

  “You’re married to Sebastian Miller!” She beamed. “When we were first married we pictured ourselves as a modern-day F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda, without the alcohol and insanity, of course,” she laughed. “A young couple should see as much of the world as possible. Though there is nothing more delicious than a baby; wait until you inhale their skin after a bath.”

  “We’re not married,” Hadley corrected. “We’re just travel companions.”

  “I’m terribly sorry, sometimes I say the wrong thing.” She glanced at Hadley’s gold lamé dress and blushed. “I just thought…”

  “Thought what?” Hadley asked, suddenly feeling queasy. She thought about the last few weeks when she didn’t eat anything except rusks. Her blouses were too tight and she couldn’t stand the smell of coffee.

  “Texans have a reputation for being nosy but I noticed you didn’t eat a bite of potjiekos at dinner. You haven’t touched the desserts and you look like you’d give anything to climb into bed.” She paused. “And I’ve never seen anyone with such glossy hair.”

  “My hair?” Hadley touched her blond hair.

  “It’s the best thing about being pregnant,” she said as if she were sharing a secret. “For the next eight months you’ll have lustrous hair like a supermodel.”

  * * *

  Hadley sat at the dressing table and tried to stop her hands from shaking. She remembered the antibiotics she took in Pretoria and the last few weeks of feeling miserable and knew, of course, she was pregnant; how could she have not seen it sooner?

  The diamond teardrop earrings glittered in her ears and she felt an unbearable sadness. All the adventures of the last year—falling asleep on Sebastian’s shoulder and waking up to the smell of sweet pastries, looking out the bus window and seeing a herd of elephants—would be swept away as if by the winter rain.

  She dabbed her mascara and thought it wouldn’t help to cry. She’d go back to Connecticut and teach art at Miss Porter’s School. Her parents would help with the baby and eventually she would move to New York and get a proper job.

  She couldn’t tell Sebastian, he was the least likely person to have a child. He slept until noon and thought a bowl of vanilla ice cream was an acceptable dinner. He hated making plans and got restless if they stayed in the same place.

  She w
ould say she was tired of traveling and needed to do something for herself. He could know the truth later, when his paintings were in the Sotheby’s catalog and his name was a household word.

  Her heart pounded and she put the earrings in the black velvet case. The door opened and Sebastian entered, holding a crystal brandy snifter.

  “There you are,” he said. “I was drinking Hennessy with a collector from London and he asked who I thought would win Wimbledon. You know I’m terrible at that stuff, I needed you whispering names in my ear.”

  “I had a headache,” Hadley explained, slipping off her stilettos.

  “I can make you feel better,” he whispered and put his hands on her dress.

  “Not now.” Hadley jumped up. She turned to Sebastian and her voice softened. “I’m not feeling well, I’m going to take a bath.”

  “In that case, I’ll warm up the bed.” He untied his bow tie. “You’ll never guess who I met, Hans Feinman! He loves my landscapes and wants to show my work at his gallery in Munich. Can you imagine, our first show in Europe at one of the most respected galleries in Germany? I’ll have to work hard,” his face broke into a smile, “but I know where to get my inspiration.”

  Hadley nodded. “That’s a fantastic opportunity. I’m so pleased for you.”

  “From there we can introduce my work to galleries in Milan and Paris.” He paused. “We’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe, chic black dresses and designer pumps and some significant jewelry. We’ll be the darlings of the art world and you’ll charm everyone with your perfect French.”

  Hadley looked at Sebastian and took a deep breath. “I’m not coming.”

  “What do you mean you’re not coming?” he demanded.

  “I can’t follow you around forever, like the sidecar on a motorcycle,” she continued. “I’ve had a wonderful time but I have to do something for myself. Where will I be in five years if all I do is sip champagne at gallery openings and pose in fields of flowers?”

  “You’ll be next to me, making sure I don’t fall on my face,” he spluttered. “Every artist needs a muse. Degas and Picasso had women who inspired them.”

  “Is that what I am?” Hadley was suddenly angry. “An insurance policy that guarantees you can paint? I’m sure there are dozens of models who would be happy to sit for you, and you don’t need me to butter up gallery owners, you’re doing a fine job.”

  “With one German who shared a taste for gewürztraminer!” Sebastian exclaimed. “But we wouldn’t be sitting in this suite if it wasn’t for you. Why would you want to leave, when we’re having so much fun?”

  It would be so easy to tell him the truth: she was pregnant and she had to have the baby, that’s just the way she was. But he couldn’t stop what he was doing. He’d be an empty shell if he didn’t paint.

  But it wouldn’t change anything, so what would be the point?

  “I’m going to live at home for a while and then dip my feet in the New York art world,” she said slowly. “Work at the Frick or get a job at one of the impossibly sleek galleries in Chelsea.”

  “We’re not going to traipse around the world forever.” Sebastian ran his hands through his hair. “But right now there’s so much to paint. I can’t do it surrounded by honking taxis and half-empty garbage cans and vendors selling warm pretzels.”

  Hadley walked to the dresser and picked up the jewelry case.

  “Sell these and you’ll have enough to finance your next painting.” She handed him the box. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a bath.”

  “Hadley, wait.” Sebastian touched her arm. “I love you, I thought we were going to do this together.”

  She turned away and thought her heart would break. “I love you too, but I can’t.”

  * * *

  Hadley dried her hair with a towel and wrapped a robe around her body. Sebastian had stormed out and she’d taken a long bath. She remembered his look of betrayal and wished she could tell him the truth.

  Then she pictured everything ahead of her: booking her flight to New York, telling her parents, finding a doctor, and thought she had things to worry about other than Sebastian’s feelings.

  The bedroom door opened and Sebastian strode inside. His cheeks were pale and he still wore his white dinner jacket.

  “I was just going to bed,” she said. “I can sleep on the sofa if you like.”

  “I went downstairs to have a brandy and met a couple from Texas,” he began. “The husband is an oilman and his wife is one of those chatty women who pulls out pictures of her children.”

  Hadley gasped and a chill ran down her spine.

  “She met you after dinner and asked if you were feeling well,” he said and looked at Hadley. “She said in her first trimester she couldn’t get out of bed and all she wanted to eat was salted nuts.” He paused. “Then she said you had the loveliest blue eyes and we were going to have a beautiful baby.”

  “She said all that,” Hadley whispered.

  “I’m sure she would have gone on but her husband pulled her away.” He took a cigarette case out of his pocket. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

  “It only occurred to me this evening. I haven’t had my period in weeks, I thought it was the bumpy bus rides and changing temperatures.” Her lips trembled. “But I’m certain it’s true.”

  “And you were just going to pack your passport and go back to New York?” he fumed.

  “I’m sorry, I was going to tell you later.” She hesitated. “I didn’t want you to change your plans.”

  “But what will you do?”

  Hadley looked at Sebastian and something shifted inside her. For a moment she thought he would say he loved her and they had to be together. But he just wanted to know what she was going to do about the baby.

  “My parents won’t be shocked. Their relationship started quite scandalously.” She tried to smile. “And I do have a college degree, I can find a job.”

  “You can’t just take my baby and move to a different continent.” Sebastian lit the cigarette.

  “You’re hardly ready to be a father. You hate loud noise and don’t know how to keep a budget.” Her cheeks flushed. “Do you think a baby is something you keep in your backpack and show off to vendors you meet at an outdoor market?”

  Sebastian stubbed out the cigarette and looked at Hadley. “I would have liked to have the choice.”

  “But that’s the thing about a baby, it’s not about you anymore.” She felt like a train picking up steam. “You said yourself you have to paint. Could you really give it up for a house in the suburbs and a weekly pass on Amtrak?”

  “There are hospitals in South Africa,” he argued. “Why couldn’t we have a baby and keep traveling?”

  “We’re not even married,” Hadley said and bit her lip.

  “We can change that.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a velvet case. He snapped it open and dropped to his knee.

  “I knew the moment I met you at the guesthouse in Cape Town you were beautiful and smart,” he began. “And your smile is brighter than all the stars in the African sky. I can’t promise you the most conventional life and you’re right, I haven’t a clue what to do with a baby.” He took her hand. “But I love you both more than anything in the world. Hadley Stevens, will you marry me?”

  Hadley wondered if they really could do anything as foolish as get married. It was easy when all they shared were cups of coffee and wonderful nights in bed. But what happened when they had to set up a 401(k) and visit two sets of parents at Christmas?

  Sebastian was charming and talented but he was the worst idea of a husband. He didn’t know how to cook and could be terribly impatient. And she could as easily imagine him wearing a suit and going to an office as she could Peter Pan growing up.

  But you didn’t have to live in a gabled house to make it work. When she was with him, she felt part of something bigger. Wasn’t the most important thing being in love?

  “Where did you get that?” She
pointed to the emerald-cut diamond on a platinum band.

  “I gave Derek the diamond teardrop earrings and he let me have this ring instead.” He looked at Hadley. “I may have to paint a couple more pieces but you’re going to wear it for sixty years. It had to be perfect.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Hadley gasped.

  “Will you put it on?”

  She glanced at his green eyes and bright smile and all her reasons to say no disappeared. Of course she had to say yes, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  He slipped the ring on her finger and a warmth spread through her chest. They were going to get married and have a baby, what could be a greater adventure? She kissed him and never wanted the moment to end.

  * * *

  Hadley ran the cloth over the glass coffee table and thought she had been so young and foolish. Sebastian loved her and Olivia but he loved himself more. When he had to choose between the thing that made him what he was and his family, he packed his paintbrushes and favorite slippers and left.

  She shouldn’t be too hard on him; he had suffered. But it didn’t excuse what he did. And he wasn’t going to arrive now and stir up their lives like a chef on a television cooking show.

  Was Sebastian right, were Olivia and Finn too young to get married? Finn was grounded and loyal and would do anything for Olivia. And Olivia didn’t have to save turtles in Costa Rica or ride elephants in Thailand to know she was in love. They had been together for four years; getting married was the natural step.

  She would tell Sebastian he couldn’t extend any invitations to Olivia without asking her. And if he caused any more waves between Olivia and Finn she’d put him on a rowboat and push him into the harbor.

  Footsteps crossed the hallway and Sebastian entered the living room. He wore linen slacks and a pastel-colored shirt.

  “Nothing like a cold shower to make you feel twenty years younger,” he said, walking to the bar. “I spent a few days with a tribal chief in Ghana who only bathed in ice-cold water. He was sixty-nine and just fathered his sixteenth child.”

  “All you need is more children; you haven’t done a good job with the one you have,” she retorted. “Did you see your daughter this afternoon? She ran up to her room and she was quite upset.”