“Yes. How did you know?”
“You have that wide-eyed look American tourists wear the first time. Are you with family?”
“I’m on my honeymoon,” I said.
“Oh.” He widened his smile. “You don’t want to watch your new husband gamble?”
“Not all night,” I said, and he laughed.
“You see those lights out there?” He pointed with his cigarette.
“Yes.”
“That’s Bordighera, Italy.”
“Really? I didn’t realize we were so close to Italy.”
“Everywhere in Europe, you’re close to another country,” he said. “You should go see it if you can tear your husband away from the casino.”
“Oh, I will,” I said. “Thank you.”
He bowed. “Bonne chance, madame,” he said. He put out his cigarette and went back into the casino. I looked out at the night and the lights of Bordighera. It was beautiful there, and it did fill me with new hope. I was anxious to get out and tour. I had read about everything and wanted especially to go to the palace and see Princess Grace’s tomb.
When I returned to the casino, I saw Ethan had left the craps table and was at roulette.
“Did you win?” I asked.
He showed me his pile of chips, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Ten thousand dollars! I was up fifteen and lost five, so I decided to move to something else.”
“Why don’t we quit while we’re ahead?” I suggested.
“Quit? We just got here.”
“A man showed me the lights of Bordighera, Italy. You can see it from the terrace.”
“That’s nice.” He watched the roulette wheel, and when it stopped, he clapped his hands. “We’re on a streak.”
I watched for a while. He lost and then won again and again. I could see pulling him away was not going to be easy, but I was actually bored and wandered about again. I looked for the tall gentleman but didn’t see him. When it was close to midnight, I returned to Ethan, who immediately told me we were up twenty-two thousand dollars.
“I’m getting tired,” I said. “And we want to get up early to see things, don’t we?”
“Sure, sure, but I’m not that tired. We slept so much today. Tell you what,” he said peeling off some euros. “Take a taxi back and get into bed. I’ll be there in about an hour or so, okay?”
It wasn’t okay, but I took the money. This was Lucille’s fault, I thought. If she hadn’t given him that five thousand dollars, he wouldn’t be in there. A little annoyed but too tired to argue, I took the taxi and returned to our suite. I tried to stay up, but when I lay down, my eyelids shut like automatic steel prison doors, and in moments I was asleep.
Because I hadn’t shut the curtains tightly enough, the morning sunlight burst like an egg on my face and woke me. I moaned and then remembered I had fallen asleep before Ethan had returned. Feeling guilty, I turned to apologize and was shocked to see that he had not gotten into bed.
“Ethan?”
I looked toward the bathroom. The door was open, but I heard nothing, and there was no sign of him in the suite. There wasn’t a note anywhere, either, to indicate that he had gone out for something. I rose, got into my slippers, and went into the bathroom to be sure he wasn’t there. He wasn’t. I decided to shower and get dressed. Before I came out, I heard the door of the suite open.
“Ethan?”
I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself. When I stepped out, Ethan was on the bed, still fully clothed, his eyes closed.
“What happened to you? Where were you?” I asked.
He groaned.
“Ethan?”
He opened his right eye and then put his hand over his forehead, pressing his fingers to his temples.
“I had a little too much to drink. Crying in my beer, so to speak.”
“What are you talking about? Where were you?”
“I was at the casino, winning and winning, and then suddenly losing and losing. I lost it all,” he said. “And then some.”
“What do you mean, ‘and then some’ ?”
“I couldn’t believe I had hit such a run of bad luck.”
He turned over onto his side. I shook him.
“What does ‘and then some’ mean?”
He didn’t answer.
“Ethan?”
“Another twenty thousand dollars,” he muttered.
“Twenty thousand! Where did you get that?”
Again, he was quiet.
“Ethan?”
“Our wedding gifts,” he said, then groaned and turned on his stomach.
“What? You gambled away wedding money besides what Lucille gave you?”
He lifted his hand and dropped it. “Let me sleep a little,” he said.
I stepped back as if the bed were about to burst into flames. It was as if another person had gotten into Ethan’s body. Where was the responsible, loving young man I had married? If Daddy heard about this, he’d be very angry, I thought. I plopped into a chair and stared at his unmoving body. The longer I looked at him, the angrier I became. I decided to finish dressing and go down to the restaurant to get myself some breakfast. He didn’t move or make a sound the whole time. I glanced at him once, decided it would be a waste of effort to try to get him up, and slammed the door behind me.
While I was looking at the menu, I sensed someone standing just behind me and to my left.
Ethan, I thought happily, but when I turned and looked up, I saw the thin, tall, elegant man I had met at the casino.
He smiled and nodded. “Why is it,” he asked, “that every time I see you on your honeymoon, you’re alone?”
“My husband is sleeping off a night of disaster,” I replied.
“I see. The dangers of temptation. Well, would you like some company?” He gestured at the seat across from me.
His question took me by complete surprise. I fumbled for a moment and then said, “Yes.”
I will always wonder why I said yes to a stranger in a different country. I didn’t even know his name, and he didn’t know mine, but there was something in his face, some soft, vulnerable look, that stepped over any fear I felt. He sat, smiled, glanced at the menu, and signaled the waitress. He ordered café au lait and a croissant with jam.
He looked at my plate of eggs and bacon, a roll, cheese, and coffee, and laughed.
“American breakfast. We French favor what we call petit dejeuner. Where are you from?”
“Kentucky.”
“Ah, the Bluegrass State, no?”
“Yes.”
“You have horses, too?”
“Not on our property, but my father owns some.”
“Some?”
“Some,” I said. Cassie always told me not to sound too wealthy to strangers.
“My name is Henri Beaumont,” he said, extending his hand across the table.
“Semantha Heaven . . . Semantha Hunter.”
“Enchanté,” he said.
“I took some French in high school, but I don’t speak it fluently enough to try.”
“Very wise. And college? You didn’t continue with a language?”
I laughed. “I’m not that old. I haven’t even started going to college, much less graduated from one.”
“Ah, a child bride.”
“Peut-être,” I said, remembering that it meant “maybe.” He laughed again.
The waitress brought his coffee and croissant.
“How long did you stay last night?” he asked.
“Not too much longer after I saw you. You left?”
“Oh, no. I was on a break. I’m a blackjack dealer. You know how to play blackjack?”
“Yes, but I don’t gamble or play cards.”
I smiled to myself, remembering how much Cassie had hated board games and cards. Mother had tried to get us to play gin rummy with her, but Cassie wouldn’t.
“Simply killing time with worthless amusement is the same as lying in a grave,” she had told us. To her,
nothing had been as sinful as wasting time when she could be reading or doing something she considered worthwhile.
“And this new husband of yours, he does?”
“Not before this. At least, not with me, not as long as I’ve known him,” I said mournfully.
Henri picked up on my tone and look. “He lost a lot . . . you said a ‘disaster’ ?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s a painful lesson, and from now on he’ll be different.”
“I hope so.”
He smiled and nodded. “I have a daughter who should be about your age now,” he said.
“Should be? Don’t you know if she is?”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t seen her since she was two. My wife couldn’t tolerate this life.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I don’t blame her, but she moved as far away from me as she could. She lives in Tahiti and is remarried.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Whenever I see a pretty young woman like yourself, I think of my daughter. Being with you makes me feel as if I’m with her. I can imagine, at least. You understand?”
“Yes,” I said. “You’ve been a blackjack dealer for a long time, then?”
“A long time. It’s not so bad for me. I like to watch the people who gamble. Some say prayers. Some have good-luck charms, and some have their own mathematical methods. Too many think they’ll find some answer, some happiness, something to fill a hole in their lives, if they win big. And then there are those who are, like your husband, I imagine, caught up in the excitement. Don’t tell anyone I told you, but it’s a dangerous place.”
“Yes, it is,” I said. “And beautiful, too. I read about the architecture.”
“Beauty without innocence is dangerous too often. You understand?”
“I think so.”
“You’re young. Even if you don’t understand now, you will.”
I put down my silverware and looked at my watch. “I’d better get back up to our suite and get my husband moving.”
“Yes, good luck with that,” he said. “Try to get to Italy. There’s good shopping. I get most of my clothes and shoes there.”
“I will.”
I looked for the waitress.
“Oh, please. Let me pay the bill,” he said. “You’ve given me great pleasure, and besides, let a casino employee pick up a tab now. That’s only, how do you say, poetic justice?”
“Merci.” I stood up but paused. “Don’t you ever write or try to call your daughter?”
“I used to, but my angry ex-wife is not . . . how should I put it? Cooperative. This,” he added, “is my hole in my life, but I don’t fill it with false hope.”
“Keep trying,” I said. “I’m sure she’s worth the effort. Au revoir.”
He smiled. “Au revoir.”
As I walked away, I thought to myself that I hadn’t just met Henri Beaumont by accident. Cassie had sent him my way.
She was afraid that after marrying Ethan, I would stop thinking about my daughter.
Even here, thousands of miles from her grave, she was beside me. I was, after all, her resurrection, the only way she could come back to life.
Shutting her out would be like killing her again.
A Visit
ETHAN SLEPT AWAY the entire morning. I sat in the suite’s living room and watched some television, bitterly thinking that this was some way to spend a honeymoon. Finally, he rose, apologized, and went to take a shower. When he dressed and came out, he saw I was still angry, and he kept apologizing.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. He got on his knees and kissed my hand, begging forgiveness. “I’m such an idiot. Here,” he said, handing me a flower from the vase on the table. “Give me twenty lashes.”
I couldn’t help but finally laugh. What else could I do but forgive him?
“Good,” he said, leaping to his feet. “Let’s go somewhere beautiful and have lunch.”
“What about a car?”
“Lucille’s travel agent made all the arrangements. We should have had a car delivered by now. The desk will have the keys.”
He was right. The car was waiting. I wanted to say that someday we’d have to do everything for ourselves and not depend on Lucille, but I was afraid to add any unpleasant thoughts or tone now. We would finally have a real honeymoon.
At lunch, I told him about the Frenchman I had met at the casino and at breakfast, Henri Beaumont. He didn’t seem to think much of it and didn’t pick up on anything when I talked about Beaumont missing his daughter.
“He called it the hole in his life.”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen to us,” Ethan promised. “In fact, in fifty years, we’ll return to Monaco to celebrate a golden anniversary.”
“But you won’t go to the casino.”
“No,” he said. He raised his hand. “I’m cured. The only thing I’ll gamble on from here on is the weather.”
We had been directed to a beautiful restaurant up in a place called Eze that looked out over the ocean. It was like walking into a fantasy. The cobblestone streets, the quaint shops, and the scenery held our attention most of the day. Late in the afternoon, we drove back to the hotel and went to the pool, where we had cocktails and both dozed off. Claire Dubonnet had left a list of restaurants for us to try for dinner. One was at another hotel, La Reserve in Beaulieu-sur-Mer. Once again, we sat out on a patio and looked at the ocean.
It was a wonderful dinner, during which Ethan once again apologized for his actions and vowed to work harder at making our marriage a success. When he added “as successful as your father and Lucille’s marriage,” I felt my stomach tighten.
“Actually, my father’s marriage to my mother was far more successful a marriage. They were as devoted to each other as any two people could be. They weren’t tied together by our business or wealth, but only by their love.”
“Well, then, that’s the way we’ll be,” Ethan said quickly, but I thought he glanced at me oddly as he drank his port. Maybe he thought I was jumping on everything he said too quickly; maybe I was too sensitive. It wasn’t my intention to drive him away or cause him to worry every minute he was with me. I tried to be more pleasant and relaxed, and it worked. As soon as we were back in our suite, he wanted to make love.
“We have to make love every night, even during the afternoon if we can,” he said, reminding me about my time for ovulation.
“When you talk about all that, you sound more like a fertility doctor,” I said, gently teasing. “It’s not romantic, Ethan.”
Once again, he unleashed one apology after another. We made love, but I couldn’t help thinking about my deception. My mother would never have kept such a secret from my father, I thought. If I really loved him and he really loved me, I should be able to tell him the truth.
But I didn’t. Something kept me from doing it, kept me acting as if I wanted to be pregnant as much as he wanted me to be.
We spent the rest of our days touring and shopping. We did get to Italy and bought much more than we should have. A good deal of it we sent ahead. I thought he spent a lot more time than necessary searching for a special gift for Lucille.
“She’s done so much for us,” he said when he saw I was getting annoyed. “We’ve got to find something different, something unusual. What do you buy for someone who has everything?”
Eventually, he settled on a beautiful and unique necklace an artisan had created. We bought it in a village called Saint-Paul De Vence, where we had a wonderful lunch and visited the shops. For our last night, Ethan thought we should call Claire Dubonnet and invite her to dine with us. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I wanted the last night to be more special, to be just us. As it turned out, when she met us at one of the restaurants in Monaco that she had suggested, the conversation centered around Lucille and the times she had spent with her. When I glanced at Ethan as she spoke, I thought he looked entranced. It was as if he were hearing about experie
nces someone had had with a major political figure or celebrity.
She told us she hoped to visit Lucille sometime next year.
“Maybe we’ll have another surprise for you by then,” Ethan said, reaching for my hand.
“Oh? Are you expecting?” she asked.
I knew what she was thinking. So many of the guests at our wedding had looked as if they were thinking and gossiping about the same thing, that we had gotten married so quickly because I was pregnant.
She looked surprised when Ethan answered quickly for me. “No, not yet, but hopefully soon.”
“Well, I wish you luck,” she said. “Lucille told me how much your father would love to have a grandson.”
“We’ll keep trying until he does,” Ethan vowed, which drove an icy sword of guilt through my heart.
I argued with myself about stopping the birth control pills, but later, when I had to take one, I did. I was behaving like someone addicted, but my addiction wasn’t drug-related. It was fear, and I knew it. Maybe I would return to my therapist, I thought. The debate raged in my mind on and off during our trip home.
Ethan had sent home Lucille’s gift, along with so many other things we had bought. He was both surprised and delighted to see her wearing it when we arrived at Heaven-stone in time for dinner.
She and Daddy were anxious to hear all about our trip.
“Thank you so much for this,” Lucille said, indicating the necklace when we sat at the table. “How did you find something so unique?”
“Semantha spotted it,” Ethan said quickly.
Lucille smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Claire’s already called me,” she told us, “and described you both as glowing. Sometimes a woman glows from something quite significant in her life.” She looked quickly from me to Ethan. I saw him shake his head ever so slightly. She pursed her lips and went on to ask us other questions. When she asked about Le Grand Casino, both of us looked down quickly. That brought laughter.
“Lost, then?” she asked. I looked at Ethan and then at Daddy, who seemed more interested in his rack of lamb.
“I’m afraid so,” Ethan said.
“Well, like most things in life, you win some, you lose some. Right, Teddy?”
Secret Whispers Page 27
