CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jessica Margaret de Moray made her entrance into the world on February 14, Valentine’s Day. She was golden-haired and pink-skinned, weighed six pounds, two ounces, and measured eighteen inches long. For Susan it was love at first sight. Maggie and Amelia crowed with delight when the pink bundle was held at the viewing window for their pleasure and first introduction. Cary beamed and cooed through the nursery window.
“A woman shouldn’t have to go through this alone,” Cary muttered to Amelia and Maggie on the ride back to Sunbridge.
“You’re right; she shouldn’t. But who the hell knows where that dog Jerome is? And he wouldn’t have wanted to be here, anyway. Susan didn’t ask for him once, but I knew what she was thinking. She felt deserted.” Maggie brightened. “But she’s not alone anymore, is she. Now she has little Jessica Margaret.”
Cary laughed. “You don’t really intend to call her that, do you? That’s quite a mouthful for such a little thing.”
“No, I guess not.” Maggie sighed. “But I can’t help reminding anyone who’ll listen that Susan named her after Grandmam Jessica and me. It’s an honor, Cary, it really is. Don’t you think so, Amelia?”
“Yes, I suppose.” Amelia knew she was having a hard time coping with the birth of Susan’s baby. It made her feel old, so old.... And Cary was taking this birth with such rejoicing. Did he want a child of his own? At forty-two, he certainly was young enough to become a father for the first time. But who’d give him that child? She certainly couldn’t. No, it would have to be someone young, someone like Eileen.
Maggie was still jabbering. “I can’t wait to shop for the baby. Lacy dresses, frilly bonnets. They make such beautiful toys these days—creative and progressive. Oh, and she must have an English coach carriage. You know, Amelia, like the ones those English nannies push around Hyde Park on sunny afternoons. The ones with the huge wheels. I’m going to telephone Harrod’s first thing and have them send one over,” she said happily. She couldn’t help wondering, though, why the baby hadn’t been placed in a bassinet beside the other infants after the viewing. The masked nurse had whisked little Jessie away as soon as the oohs and aahs were over.
The phone was ringing when Maggie and Amelia entered the house. Maggie caught it just before Martha. “Suse! What are you doing calling? Couldn’t wait to hear the compliments over little Jessie? You should be resting.”
She listened, her face going absolutely blank.
“What’s wrong?” Cary asked, his arm going around Maggie for support.
“I’ve never heard of spina bifida. Operating on her when she was just born!” Maggie listened intently. “Suse, I’m coming back to the hospital to be with you. Yes, yes,
I want to.“ She replaced the receiver and sat down on the bottom step of the staircase.
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Maggie. What’s wrong?” Amelia demanded.
“It’s the baby. She was born with something wrong with her spine, a hole or something. Suse doesn’t quite understand it yet. They’re going to operate within the next few hours.”
Amelia shook her head. “Will it never stop? Always one crisis after another. And Susan all alone except for us. She should have a husband by her side.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s all Jerome’s fault! If there’s anything wrong with that child, he’s to blame. Working Susan the way he did, fitting her into corsets so her pregnancy wouldn’t show—”
“Amelia,” Maggie implored wearily, “please don’t go on this way. I know Jerome was hard on Suse, but I’m certain none of this was his doing, or Susan’s, either. It just happened. Little Jessie will be fine; she has to be. Whatever you do, don’t repeat any of this to Susan. She has enough to contend with. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course we do, Maggie,” Cary interjected. “You won’t say any of this to Susan, will you, Amelia?” He spoke sternly, tightening his grasp on his wife’s arm. “We’ll all be very careful of what we say.”
“All right, Cary!” Amelia pulled her arm away. “You don’t have to speak to me as though I were some kind of witch ready to pounce on Susan.” She flew up the stairs, brushing past Maggie, her slim-heeled Bally shoes noiseless on the thickly padded carpet runner.
“Now, what the hell has gotten into her?” Cary asked. “She’s so damn irritable lately; everything I say seems to come out wrong. I didn’t mean to be rough on her, but there’s no telling what she’ll do these days. I didn’t want to take the chance that she’d face Susan with all sorts of accusations that wouldn’t help the situation.”
“I know, Cary,” Maggie said quietly. “But remember that Amelia practically raised Susan, and she’s never really liked Jerome. She’s worried and so am I. I’m leaving again for the hospital. Do you think you’ll be here to eat dinner with the boys? You could tell them about the baby and reassure them that everything will be all right. At least I pray it’ll be all right.”
Susan lay propped up in bed. The peach-colored bed jacket seemed out of place against the starched white sheets. The room was bare of flowers and cards. Tomorrow it would be full.
“Here, blow,” Maggie said, holding out a white handkerchief.
Susan blew her nose obligingly and dabbed at her eyes. “They’re operating on her right now. The doctors assure me it’s standard procedure for spina bifida. I didn’t even know what it was till they told me. It originates in the first month of pregnancy. The vertebrae of the spinal cord are not formed correctly. That’s why they have to operate right away. It’s my fault. I knew I should have taken better care of myself. I shouldn’t have let Jerome bully me the way he did.”
“Suse, it’s not your fault and the doctor will tell you so. Children are born all the time with defects. They’re operating, so that will make it right, won’t it?”
“There could be fluid in the brain. The doctor said they can treat and monitor the children and possibly they can grow into independent adults living full lives. But I know it won’t happen. Why should I be one of the lucky ones?”
“You can’t think like that,” Maggie said sternly. “Your thoughts have to be positive. Your baby is alive and being taken care of. Other mothers aren’t that lucky. Count your blessings.”
“I am. I’m fortunate that the pediatrician recognized the disease and acted on it. This is one of the few hospitals that can treat it. I was listening, but he was talking so fast, I think I only caught half of it, and I was a little groggy. He said something about incontinence of bowel and bladder, paralysis of leg muscles, and lack of sensation. That’s all I know.”
“We’ll find out all there is to know tomorrow,” Maggie promised. “When the doctor comes back, you’ll have to talk to him yourself and ask every question you can think of. It’s going to be all right, Susan. Be glad you’re here with your family. We’ll all do what we can.”
Susan held on to Maggie’s hand until she dozed off. An hour later the doctor entered the room. He was a tall man, dressed in operating green. He looked, Maggie thought, like a man who didn’t smile enough. He was smiling now, though. How awesome, she thought, to hold the power of life and death in your hands. She looked at his long, slender fingers. What must he have thought when he sliced into that tiny back? She had to know, had to ask. “Please, Doctor, tell me, what did you think about when you started to operate?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I was praying. I always pray when my scalpel makes the first incision. The baby came through just fine. She’s sleeping now and will get some glucose in a little while. It’s too early for me to say anything else at this time. So, for now I’d say the baby is resting.” He smiled again, a smile that would warm any mother’s heart.
Four hours later Susan woke, a look of alarm on her face. Maggie reached up to smooth the hair back from her brow. “Jessie came through the operation just fine. She’s sleeping and probably getting glucose right now.”
“He came in, the doctor, I mean?”
“Hours ago. I didn’t want to wake you. He said he’ll be in to see you tomorrow. I checked with the night nurse a while ago, and she said when you woke they’d wheel you down to see her. Suse, he said he prayed when he made the first incision. I thought you might want to know that.”
“Thanks, Maggie. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”
“After you see the baby, try to get some sleep. It’s what you need now.” Maggie kissed Susan lightly and tasted the salt of her tears. “You can handle it,” she whispered.
“Yes, I will. It’s late. Go home. Call Mam.”
“I already did, but I’ll give her another call. See you tomorrow.”
Cary felt as though he were tiptoeing around the bedroom when he was really making more noise than usual. He knew Amelia was antsy, waiting for him to ask what was bothering her. Had she understood about his trip to New York? Damn, it couldn’t have come at a worse time. Just last week she’d told him that in the next few days the carpet and draperies were going to be installed in the house and she’d have to be there. She was bound to think he’d planned this trip deliberately so she wouldn’t be able to go with him.
Amelia had been acting strange these past few weeks. She’d taken the news of Sawyer’s illness very badly. And tonight she’d curled into a ball on her side of the king-size bed. He’d had to be extra gentle with her, cajoling her into telling him what was wrong. She’d gulped and cried that suddenly, for the first time, she was aware of her own mortality. Think of little Jessie; think of Sawyer. It could happen to anyone—it could easily happen to her. Look how much older she was. He’d tried everything he knew to shake her out of it, but she’d been inconsolable. Now he had no choice but to go to sleep. He had to get up in the morning. It wouldn’t make a difference if Amelia was late getting to her house.
When Cary woke the following morning, more tired than when he’d gone to bed, he saw Amelia lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. He knew she hadn’t slept at all. He felt annoyed with her and then with himself that she could upset him like this. God knows he’d done his best. He’d shared every aspect of his life with her, and there weren’t many men who did that.
Cary lay quietly for a few moments listening to Amelia’s light breathing. God, he loved her. Of all the women he’d slept with in his life, she was the one he wanted to wake up next to. She always smiled and reached out to him. He knew he’d be grouchy and irritable all day if he didn’t make the first move. He reached out, a sleepy smile on his face. “C’mere.”
Amelia obligingly snuggled closer to him. She sighed deeply. This was where she belonged. “I’m sorry I was so...”
“Bitchy?”
Cary could feel the smile against his shoulder. “Yes, bitchy. I don’t expect you to understand about this family. All I can do is tell you the way it is. Susan’s baby ...”
“Amelia, listen to me. I do understand. It gnaws at my gut about Sawyer. She hasn’t even begun to taste what life has to offer. But neither of us can change things. If it was something simple like an organ transplant, I’d donate one of mine if it would make you happy. Susan’s baby is alive. It could be worse, much worse. None of it is your fault. You can’t shoulder it all.”
“I’m not trying to. I’m trying to come to terms with it. Oh, Cary, I’m so afraid to die.”
“Don’t you think everyone feels like that? I do. Just the thought of leaving this earth and not having you with me makes me sick to my stomach. Now, I know men aren’t supposed to say such things, but that’s how I feel. You’re my life, Amelia. I wouldn’t be here now doing what I’m doing if it wasn’t for you.”
Amelia rolled over petulantly. “I don’t want you to be grateful to me.”
“Goddammit, Amelia. I am grateful. That’s only a small part of it. Why are you fighting me? We never had a problem till we came back here. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to take on this project. I did it for you. For us.”
Amelia stubbornly closed her ears to Cary’s explanations. She’d heard it all before. Why wasn’t he talking about Eileen? Eileen was what was bothering her. Couldn’t he see it? If he understood her as well as he said he did, he should know what was bothering her.
“When are you leaving for New York?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Cary sighed. He couldn’t dally any longer or he’d be late for the office.
Amelia made no effort to get out of bed. So what if she was late? The contractor had a key to the house; he could let the workmen in. Cary was upset with her. She was upset with Cary. Where did they go from here?
She swung her legs over the bed, slipped into a lime-green robe and matching mules, then fluffed at her hair. “How busy are you going to be in New York?” she called through the open bathroom door.
“Pretty busy. My evenings should be free, though. At least part of them. Want to change your mind and hit Fifth Avenue?”
“No. I was thinking maybe I’d make the trip with you and go on to Vermont and see Billie. I guess I can delay things at the house. I could join you the last day and we could see a play or something. I don’t want to interfere with your business.” Warily she watched him to see his reaction. He appeared to be delighted.
“That’s a great idea. Call Billie and tell her before I leave so I know you’ll be happy today You’ll have to make a reservation, though. I can have Eileen do it for you.”
“I’ll do it. Yes, I think it’s a great idea myself. I need a break. We could take Sawyer and Adam out to dinner if she’s up to it. I’ll pack your evening clothes.”
“Good girl. Hey, maybe we could stay an extra day and make it a sort of fourth honeymoon.”
Amelia giggled. Maybe they could get back on track.
On the way down the hall, both Amelia and Cary stopped at the nursery. Susan was cradling the baby, a dreamy look on her face. “She falls asleep and doesn’t want to burp. I have to take her into the doctor’s today. She’s gorgeous. Don’t you think so?”
Amelia blinked. All newborn babies looked like creatures from the unknown to her. Baby Jessica was different, though. She looked pink and perfect, her tiny lips puckered as though expecting more. The soft, downy fuzz on her head was standing on end. Cary laughed as he tried to smooth it down. “Porcupine hair.”
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Amelia asked.
“Good heavens, no. Jessie comes first. I had to change her from the skin out. When she’s ready to eat, she’s ready. She’s a slow eater and she takes forever to burp. You go on. I’ll be down in a little while.”
Cary, who was by now quite late, gulped a quick cup of coffee and left. Amelia picked at some scrambled eggs and watched as Maggie devoured a stack of pancakes. “How can you eat like that and not gain an ounce?” she grumbled.
“I rarely eat lunch. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I gain; don’t kid yourself. How’s the house coming?”
“It’s almost finished. Cary is going to New York tomorrow on business. I’m going to make the trip with him and go on up to Vermont to see your mother for a few days. I’ll spend a few days with him on the return trip and do some shopping. I thought we’d take Sawyer out to dinner if she’s up to it.”
“That’s a great idea. Mam is going to love having you. I think you’re her best friend.”
Amelia waited for some mention of Sawyer. When Maggie returned to her pancakes, Amelia set her coffee cup down. “Look, I know I’m out of line, but I have to know how you can be so ... so completely—I don’t even know what word to use—in regard to Sawyer.”
Maggie pushed her plate away, the pancakes half-eaten. “Callous is probably the word you’re looking for. You are out of line, but it’s okay. We’re family. I suppose I do appear that way to you. From long habit I’ve had to cover up my feelings. But I do have them—feelings, I mean. Right now I’m trying to figure out what I can do, if anything.
“There’s something else I suppose I should tell you. I wrote to Rand and told him I made a mistake in sending him home. I love him, Amelia, and he loves me. Mam made me see that I have to reach out for whatever happiness I can get. And by God, I’m going to. Now, if you want to condemn me for that, it’s okay. I understand.”
Amelia mashed the egg on her plate. When she finally looked up at Maggie, her eyes were full of tears. “Your mother was right. You should be happy. I’m sorry if I indicated anything else. If I had my way, everyone in the world would be in love and happy as Billie and Thad. And Cary and me,” she added as an afterthought.
“Sawyer?” Maggie hadn’t meant her voice to be so hoarse, so whispery.
“I think I know Rand better than anyone on this earth. I know he wouldn’t play you against Sawyer. His mind was made up long ago—last spring, in fact. I suppose we all thought ... we all wanted the two of them to get married. But that wasn’t what Rand wanted. Who are we to sit and judge? Every person walking this earth deserves to be happy.”
“But you still don’t approve of me, do you?”
Amelia buttered a piece of toast she had no intention of eating. “You remind me so much of myself in my younger days. Those days are behind me and they should be behind you, too. What I didn’t approve of was your indifference to your mother. And your indifference to Sawyer now. My own mother died before I could make it up to her, all those awful, rebellious years. You at least had a chance to mend fences with Billie. What you do or don’t do for Sawyer is something you’re going to have to live with. No one can help you but yourself.”
Maggie smiled. “That’s honest, all right. I’m glad we had this little talk. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me.”
“In a way I was. I don’t like to think about those long-ago days. I hate confrontations because I had so many of them in my life. There comes a time when you have to look everything square in the face and deal with it. Soul-searching is not for the weak.”
“Tell me about it.” Maggie smiled. “What do you think of little Jessie? Isn’t she gorgeous? I love rocking her and giving her a water bottle.”
“Another one. Between you and Susan, you’re going to have one spoiled child on your hands.”
“Susan is taking it all very well. The doctors have mapped out a routine for her, and she’s to take Jessie in for treatment. I managed to get together some material for her to read. She’s tough, Amelia. I didn’t know that about Susan. And she means it when she says no one but her is going to take care of this baby. She wrote to Jerome, you know, right after the baby was born. She sent the letter in care of their old business manager. She said he had a right to know, and of course he does, but I’m a little concerned about what he might try to do.”
“If you think Jerome is going to be interested in a baby with a birth defect, forget it. The divorce will go through and we’ll never see Jerome again.” It was brave talk and Amelia knew it for the lie it was. Sooner or later Jerome would show up and cause trouble. She could feel it in her bones.
Maggie sat at the table for a long time after Amelia had left. She herself had a busy schedule, but she couldn’t seem to get herself together this morning, couldn’t seem to stop thinking. Amelia and Cary, Cranston and Cole, Sawyer... Rand.
Why hadn’t Rand called or written? Certainly enough time had gone by. On an impulse she pulled the phone to the table from the sideboard and placed a call to England. The phone rang fifteen times before she replaced the receiver.
Cary was so cheerful, Amelia could feel her teeth grind together. She wasn’t looking forward to the plane ride or the layover at Kennedy Airport before she could get a flight to Vermont.
“Amelia, if you don’t hurry, we’re going to miss the plane. What’s the problem?”
“My hair,” Amelia said shortly. “I should have gotten it cut, but I didn’t have the time.”
“You look beautiful. Let’s go. Eileen just pulled up in front of the house.”
“Eileen?” Amelia’s hairbrush paused in midair.
“Yes, Eileen. She’s going to leave her car at the airport. Come on, we really have to hurry. I have your coat, and the bags are downstairs.”
“Why is Eileen taking us to the airport?”
“Because she’s going with us. Sherman thought it would be simpler if she came along and I didn’t have to scrounge around for a temporary girl to take notes and then wait for the papers to be sent back here. Eileen’s on top of things. I thought I told you.”
Amelia seethed as she followed her husband down the stairs. She was going on to Vermont, and Cary was staying in New York. With Eileen! Her head started to pound, and she could feel the perspiration breaking out on her forehead.
The ride was filled with Eileen’s gay chatter. She’d never been to New York, and there was so much she wanted to see, so many things she wanted to buy.
“I thought you were going along to work,” Amelia said coolly.
“I am, but I get a lunch hour, and some of the stores are open in the evening. Cary promised me Saturday off.”
Cary could feel the chill emanating from his wife. Jesus, surely she didn’t. . . . That was exactly what she thought! Was that how much she trusted him? First he felt annoyed, and then angry. He’d asked her to come with him in the beginning, but the house was more important. Then it was going on to see Billie. Women! Well, let her stew for a while; it would do her good. Maybe then she’d realize how ridiculous she was being.
“Why don’t you drop me off at the door,” Amelia said. “I have to pick up my ticket. If you give me yours, Cary, I can check both of you in.”
“Eileen, do you have the tickets?”
“In my bag. That’s nice of you, Mrs. Assante. I might not be lucky in finding a parking spot and end up taking the shuttle. We’re cutting it close. I was on time,” she added apologetically.
“No one’s blaming you. Amelia is at fault here,” Cary said in a gruff voice.
“You didn’t tell me we were being picked up. In fact, you didn’t tell me a lot of things. I thought we were taking the limo to the airport. When Martin drives us, we don’t have to worry about a parking space. You stay with Miss Farrell. In case you don’t make this flight, you can be together for the next one. If that happens, I’ll leave your tickets with the reservation clerk. This is fine. Let me out here.”
Cary hopped out of the car and ran around to open the door for Amelia. The look she gave him froze him in his tracks. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Eileen rummaging in her purse for something. She was smiling.
Amelia waited patiently in line till it was her turn. She handed over Cary and Eileen’s tickets and waited for her own. “There seems to be a mistake here,” the young girl said hesitantly. “Miss Farrell and Mr. Assante are sitting together. Preseating,” she said by way of explanation. “You requested a seat in smoking. Do you want me to change the seats?”
“Absolutely not. Is the flight on time?”
“The plane’s at the gate. In fact, they’re boarding now. You don’t have much time.”
Amelia felt like kicking something. She looked around for some sign of her husband. “I don’t think they’re going to make it,” she said tightly.
“You’ll miss it if you don’t hurry. The next flight is booked solid. I recommend you board and leave the other two tickets with the desk.”
Amelia was the last passenger to board the plane. Behind her dark glasses, she cried all the way to New York. She was still crying when she boarded her flight to Vermont.
Cary and Eileen gathered up all their papers, stuffing them haphazardly into briefcases. Cary was in a hurry to get back to the hotel so he could make arrangements for an intimate in-room dinner with Amelia. They’d spend the evening together and tomorrow take in the Big Apple. He was as excited as a college kid on his second date.
Christ, he’d missed Amelia! He’d felt like a louse when they’d missed the plane. His phone calls to her over the next few days had been made on the run or when he was too exhausted to think straight. He didn’t know why he’d bothered except that he couldn’t let her think the worst. But she did; he could tell by her voice.
“I think I have everything, Cary,” Eileen said hoarsely.
“We’re going to get you back to the hotel and call a doctor. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re running a fever. You should have stayed in bed today. All you’re doing is sneezing and coughing. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had pneumonia.”
“Bronchitis maybe, but not pneumonia. I’ll take some aspirin and I’ll be fine. I hate it when you fuss over me,” she said. Fuss, fuss, hold me! she wanted to shout. Tell me you’ll take care of me.
“Someone has to take care of you. What the hell kind of employer would I be if I didn’t? We’re in a strange city. Make sure you take a good hot bath before you settle in. Amelia says that’s a cure-all for colds.”
“Amelia should know. Amelia is really knowledgeable, isn’t she?”
“She certainly is. She knows something about everything. She can hold her own in any situation.”
In the warm taxi Eileen managed to sit closer to Cary than necessary, pleading the chills. “Do you know what I want more than anything right now?”
“What? Don’t tell me you want a company credit card.” Cary laughed.
“That, too. No, I want a good hot toddy. I haven’t had one in years. You know, the kind your mother makes for you when you’re really sick. Not that I’m really sick.”
“You’re wrong. I can feel the heat from your body. You do have a fever and I’m calling the doctor. I have to make sure you’re all right before I can enjoy my evening with Amelia. When I tell her how sick you are, she’ll say I did the right thing.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Eileen muttered under her breath.
Eileen got out of the taxi on wobbly legs. She realized for the first time that she really was sick. Maybe a doctor wouldn’t be such a bad idea. At least he’d give her an antibiotic, and she’d have the weekend to recuperate before the return flight on Monday. She wished there was someone who cared enough for her to sit and hold her hand. It was a hell of a way to spend time in New York.
Cary grabbed both briefcases and helped Eileen through the lobby to the elevator. “I’m taking you right to your suite. I’m not leaving till the doctor is on his way and you’re in bed.”
“Thanks, Cary. Your wife is one lucky lady.”
“I keep telling her that, but she doesn’t listen.” Covertly his eyes dropped to his watch. Amelia’s plane would get in in another thirty minutes. He would have to hurry to make all the arrangements in time. “Get in bed and I’ll start making calls.”
The desk clerk assured him a doctor would check on Miss Farrell in half an hour. He called room service for a hot toddy for Eileen and dinner for himself and Amelia for nine o’clock. Then he made two calls to Texas and one to the airport to check that Amelia’s plane was on time. It was. At this time of day it would take a taxi about forty-five minutes to make it into the city; he might as well hang around and wait for the doctor. His last call was to the hotel florist. Roses and daisies would be delivered in abundance to room 1012. Amelia’s favorite flowers.
When room service arrived, Cary tipped the waiter and carried the tray into Eileen’s room. As she was taking her first sip, there was another knock on the door.
Cary ushered the doctor into Eileen’s room and quietly withdrew to the sitting room. He was sipping at a Scotch and water when the phone rang. He picked it up on the third ring. “Hello.” There was no response, and after a moment he hung up.
The doctor emerged ten minutes later. He was a round, pudgy man with a no-nonsense demeanor. “The young lady has a good case of bronchitis. I gave her a shot and left some antibiotics. She’ll be asleep in a few minutes. I’d like you to get her a small vaporizer from the pharmacy; it will help her to breathe easier. She’s to take the capsules four times a day. She’ll be fine in a few days. I’ll leave my bill at the desk. If you like, I can stop at the pharmacy and have them send up the vaporizer.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Cary said.
Cary waited around for another thirty minutes until the vaporizer arrived. He hooked it up on the dresser, checked Eileen again to be sure she was all right. He turned the lights off, leaving only the bathroom light on in case she woke and was disoriented. He made sure the water pitcher was full and placed a glass on the night table next to the packet of pills.
Now it was time for his wife. He could hardly wait.
Amelia ended her all-too-short visit to Billie after the second day and arrived at Kennedy International Airport late in the afternoon. She entered a cocktail lounge, trying to make up her mind whether to join Cary at the Hyatt Hotel or take the five-o’clock flight back to Texas. She knew she was being stubborn, even stupid. She trusted Cary; she really did. It was Eileen she didn’t trust. Eileen would have to go before she would ever feel safe again.
“And what happens to all the Eileens after that?” Billie had asked her. “You can’t insulate him from women, Amelia. If—and this is a big if, because I don’t think Cary would ever stray—but if it does happen, you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself. You’ll be the one who drove him to it.”
Billie was right, Amelia thought as she sipped at her brandy Alexander. But Billie hadn’t seen Eileen Farrell. Even Thad’s head would turn for a second look. Now, Thad was one man who would never stray; he might look, but he’d never touch. She hadn’t known Cary for a lifetime the way Billie knew Thad.
Amelia ordered a second drink, glancing at the departure monitor from her seat at the bar. She had twenty minutes to make her flight to Austin, if that was what she wanted to do. She had the rest of the day to hail a taxi that would take her to the Hyatt. She gulped her drink, paid the check, and hurried to the check-in counter, where she was told there would be a ten-minute delay. Just enough time to call the Hyatt and leave a message for Cary. Let him eat his heart out.
Information gave her the number. She dropped coins into the slot, got the Hyatt, and asked for Cary Assante. The phone rang and rang. Finally she hung up and dialed the Hyatt a second time, this time asking for Eileen Farrell’s room. The phone was picked up on the third ring, and she heard her husband say hello. Her gloved fingers felt numb when she replaced the receiver.
Her change purse yielded enough coins to make a third call. The message she left was brief: Mrs. Assante is returning to Austin.
Cary looked around at the beautiful flowers. His watch told him Amelia was two hours late. Somehow, in his gut, he knew she wouldn’t be here. Suddenly he thought to call the desk and ask if there were any messages.
“Yes, sir, there is a message. The boy is on his way up to your room right now. We’ve been terribly busy, and couldn’t get to it before now; I’m sorry.”
Cary opened the door, tipped the bellhop, and read his message before he closed the door. It had been Amelia on Eileen’s phone. He felt like crying.
At nine o’clock room service knocked on the door, and Cary didn’t have the nerve to tell the man to take the food away. He watched as everything was carried in. How Amelia would have loved this, he thought. He reached for the magnum of champagne in its silver bucket. Why the hell not? Who cared?
Amelia Coleman Nelson Assante slept on the floor of her mother’s house that night, wrapped in her sable coat. It was a deep, soundless sleep of defeat.