A Perfect Stranger (20 page)

What a wonderful girl she is, Alex.

He beamed at her. Isn't she? And ' God, Raphaella, it's amazing how she's recovering from the From what happened to her. It's only been a week. His face had sobered as he remembered.

Raphaella nodded slowly, thinking back over the past week. I think she'll be fine. Thanks to you.

Maybe thanks to both of us. He hadn't been oblivious of the gentle, loving way she had of handling the girl. He had been touched by her obvious warmth and the way she had reached out to Amanda, and he hoped that it meant good times for the three of them in days to come. Amanda was part of his life now, but so was Raphaella, and it meant a great deal to him for the three of them to be close.

What do you mean you don't like the angel? Alex looked at her with a crooked grin as he perched on the top of a ladder in the empty living room. Raphaella and Mandy were standing beneath him, and Mandy had just told him that the angel looked dumb.

Look at him, he's grinning. He looks silly.

If you ask me, you guys look pretty silly too. They were both lying on the floor playing with the trains Alex had brought up from the basement. They had been his father's and then his.

Alex clambered down the ladder and observed the fruit of his labors. He had already strung the lights and Mandy and Raphaella had done most of the decorating while he had gotten things started, assembling the trains. It was the day before Christmas, and his mother had promised to come out for a visit in two days. In the meantime it was just he and Amanda and Raphaella. She had been spending as much time as she could with him, but she had her own things to do.

She had been attempting to make things a little bit festive for John Henry, and Alex had even gone with her to pick out a small tree. She had spent a week planning a party for the servants, wrapping gifts, and putting up funny red stockings with their names. They were always amused by her thoughtful gestures, and the gifts she had bought them were always useful as well as expensive, gifts they were happy to get and would enjoy for many long years. Everything was done with a kind of generous fervor, a zeal all her own. The presents were beautifully wrapped, carefully selected; the house looked lovely, filled with poinsettias and pinecones, little pine plants; and there was a huge handsome wreath on the front door. Just that morning she had taken John Henry around the house in his wheelchair, and afterward she had disappeared and returned with a bottle of champagne. But this year she noticed that he viewed it all with less interest. He seemed far removed from any Christmas joy.

I'm too old for all this, Raphaella. I've seen it too often. It doesn't matter anymore. He seemed even to struggle with the words.

Don't be silly. You're just tired. Besides, you don't know what I bought you. She had picked out a silk robe with his monogram. But she knew even that wouldn't bring him around. He was increasingly lethargic, increasingly morbid, and had been this way for months now, as though he no longer cared.

But with Alex she found the Christmas spirit, and in Amanda she saw the childlike joy she loved so much in her little cousins in Spain. For Amanda there were long strands of red berries, arrangements of holly, long strings of popcorn they made for the tree, there were decorations they baked and cut out and painted. There were gifts that they made as well as the ones they bought. For weeks it had been an exhausting proposition and now it was culminated with the decoration of the tree. Just before midnight they were finished, and the presents were stacked in little piles all over the floor. In the empty parlor the tree looked gigantic, the lights splendid, and the little train tooted freely around the floor.

Happy? Alex smiled lazily at her as they stretched out in front of the fireplace in his room, a pile of logs burning.

Very. Do you think Mandy will like her present?

She'd better or I'm sending her back to Kay. He had bought her a little lamb jacket like Raphaella's and had promised her driving lessons as soon as the casts were off her arms. They were due off in another two weeks. Raphaella was giving her ski boots, which she had begged Alex for, a bright blue cashmere sweater, and a whole stack of books.

You know. Raphaella smiled happily up at him. It's not like buying for my cousins. It feels like she hesitated to say it, feeling foolish like having a daughter, for the first time in my life.

He grinned down at her with a sheepish smile. I feel the same way. It's nice, isn't it? Now I realize how empty the house was. It's so different now. And as though to prove it, the impish little face poked through the door. The bruises were gone now and the look of devastation was fading slowly from her eyes. In the month that she'd been in San Francisco, she had rested, gone for long walks, and talked almost daily to a psychiatrist, who was helping her to live with the fact that she had been raped.

Hi, you guys. What are you up to?

Nothing special. Her uncle looked at her happily. How come you're not in bed?

I'm too excited. And with that, she walked into the room and took two large cumbersome packages from behind her back. I wanted to give you both these. Raphaella and Alex looked at her with surprise and pleasure and sat up on the floor as she held out the gifts. She looked as though she were going to explode with the excitement, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, swinging her long blond hair away from her face.

Should we open them now? Alex was teasing. Or should we wait. What do you think, Raphaella? But she was already opening hers, with a smile, until she pulled away the paper, and then she caught her breath and let out a little gasp.

Oh, Mandy' . She looked at the young girl with amazement. I didn't know you could paint. And with casts on. It was amazing. But she shielded the gift from Alexander, suspecting that his gift was the mate to hers, and a moment later she saw that she was right. Oh, they're so lovely. Mandy ' thank you! Her pleasure was written all over her face as she embraced the girl she had come to love, and for a long startled moment Alex just sat and stared at his gift. Mandy had sketched them without their realizing it and done their portraits in watercolors. The paintings were stunning, both in composition and attitude. Then she had them framed and had given the one of Alex to Raphaella and the one of her to Alex. It was at a perfect reflection of Raphaella that he now stared. And it wasn't only accurate in detail and feature but in the spirit she had caught, the warmth and the sorrow and the loving of the rich black eyes, the softness of the face, the creaminess of her complexion. One had a sense of precisely how the woman thought and breathed and moved. And she had done just as good a job with Alex, catching him when he wasn't aware. Raphaella had been harder because she was around Mandy less often, and Amanda hadn't wanted to press herself on them when they had so little time alone. But it was clear from the awed faces of the recipients that her gifts were an enormous success.

Alex stood up to kiss and hug her tightly, and after that the three of them sat on the floor by the fire and talked for hours. They talked about people, about life, about dreams and disappointments. Amanda talked openly now about the pain inflicted by her parents. Alex nodded and tried to explain what Kay had been like as a young girl. They talked about Charlotte and what it had been like to have her for a mother, and Raphaella talked about the rigidity of her father, and how little suited she had felt for the life imposed on her with her mother in Spain. In the end they even talked about her and Alex, speaking openly to Amanda about how grateful they were for whatever they could have of each other, in whatever little bits of time. It surprised them both that she understood it, that she wasn't shocked by Raphaella's marriage, and Raphaella herself was startled to realize that Amanda thought her something of a hero for sticking by John Henry until the end.

But that's what I'm supposed to be doing. He's my husband, even if even if everything is changed.

Maybe, but I don't think many women would do that. They'd go off with Alex just because he's young and handsome and they loved him. It must be hard to stay with your husband like that, day after day. It was the first time they'd discussed it openly and for a moment Raphaella had to force herself not to change the subject, but to face it with these two people she loved.

It is hard. She sounded very soft and very sad as she thought of her husband's worn face. Very hard sometimes. He's so tired. It's as though I'm the only thing that makes him want to go on. Sometimes I'm not sure I can carry the burden of that another step. What if something were to happen to me, what if I had to go away, what if' ? She looked mutely at Alex and he understood. She shook her head slowly. I think then he would die.

Amanda was looking at her face, as though searching for an answer to a question, as though seeking to understand this woman she had come to admire and love so much. But what if he did die, Raphaella? Maybe he doesn't want to live anymore. Is it right to force him? It was a question as old as the ages, and not one which could be answered in one night.

I don't know, darling. I just know I have to do whatever I can.

Amanda looked at her in open admiration as Alex watched them both with pride. But you do so much for us too.

Don't be silly. Raphaella's embarrassment was obvious. I don't do anything. I just turn up here every evening like a bad fairy, peering over your shoulders, asking if you did the laundry then she grinned at Alex telling you to clean up your room.

Yup, that's all she does, folks. Alex was teasing as he stepped in. In fact she doesn't do a damn thing except eat our food, hang around in our bedrooms, decorate the house, occasionally feed us, polish the copper, read the briefs I sweat over, teach Amanda to knit, weed the garden, bring us flowers, buy us presents. He looked at her, prepared to go on.

It really isn't very much. Raphaella was blushing, and he tugged at a lock of the jet black hair.

Well, if it isn't, pretty lady, I'd hate to see you at full speed. They kissed softly for a moment, and Amanda tiptoed to the door.

Amanda smiled at them from the doorway. Good night, you two.

Hey, wait a minute. Alex stretched out a hand to pull her back. Don't you want your presents now too? She giggled in answer and he stood up and pulled Raphaella to her feet. Come on, you guys, it's Christmas. He knew that Raphaella wouldn't be with them the next day until late.

The three of them trooped downstairs, laughing and talking, and pounced on the presents with their names on them with obvious glee. Alex had a beautiful Irish sweater from his mother, a set of pens from Amanda, in addition to the painting she'd given him upstairs, a bottle of wine from his brother-in-law, nothing at all from his sister, and a Gucci briefcase from Raphaella, along with a tie and a beautifully bound old leather book, which was the book of poems he had told her about a month before.

My God, woman, you're crazy! But his reproaches were interrupted by Amanda's squeals as she opened her gifts. But then it was Raphaella's turn. She had a little bottle of perfume from Amanda, and a pretty scarf from Charlotte Brandon, which touched her a great deal, and then there was a small flat box that Alex handed her with a mysterious smile and a kiss. Go on, open it.

I'm afraid to. Her voice was a whisper and he saw her hands tremble as she pulled off the paper and stared at the dark green velvet box. Inside, there was a creamy satin lining and on it nestled an exquisitely simple circle of black onyx and ivory banded in gold. She saw instantly that it was a bracelet, and then noticed in amazement that there were earrings and a beautiful onyx and ivory ring to match. She slipped the whole set on and looked in the mirror at herself in stupefaction. It all fit perfectly, even the black and white ring. Alex, you're the one who's crazy! How could you? But they were so lovely, she could hardly reproach him for the expensive gift. Darling, I love them. She kissed him long and hard on the mouth as Amanda smiled and started the little train.

Did you look inside the ring? She shook her head slowly and he took it off her right hand. It says something. Quickly she held the ring up and looked at the engraving on the gold band that lined the ring, and she looked up at him with tears standing in her eyes. It said SOMEDAY. Only that. Just one word. His eyes pierced into hers now, filled with meaning. It meant that someday they would be together, for always. Someday she would be his, and he would be hers.

She stayed until three o'clock that morning, an hour after Amanda finally went to bed. It had been a beautiful evening, a wonderful Christmas, and as Alex and Raphaella lay side by side on the bed, staring into the fire, he looked at her and whispered it again. Someday, Raphaella, someday. The echo of his words still rang in her head as she walked the last block home and disappeared through the garden door.

Well, children, if old age doesn't kill me, undoubtedly my own gluttony will. I must have eaten enough for ten people. Charlotte Brandon stared around the table with a look of happy exhaustion, and the other three looked much the same. They had devoured a mountain of cracked crab for dinner, and Raphaella was serving espresso in little gold and white cups. They were among the few nice things that Rachel had forgotten when she'd left for New York.

Raphaella put the cup of coffee in front of Alex's mother and the two women exchanged a smile. There was a quiet understanding between them, based on a compatible sharing of someone they both loved a great deal. And now they had two such bonds to bring them closer. There was Amanda as well.

I hate to ask, Mother, but how's Kay doing? Alex looked only slightly tense as he inquired. But Charlotte looked at him frankly, and then at her only grandchild.

I think she's still very upset that Amanda's out here. And I don't think she's given up hope that Amanda will come back. Charlotte's audience immediately wore tense faces, but she was quick to reassure them on that head. I don't think she's going to do anything about it, but I think she realizes now what she's lost. Amanda hadn't yet heard from her mother in the four weeks since she'd left New York. But I don't really think she has time to pursue it. The campaign is beginning to get under way. She fell silent and Alex nodded, glancing at Raphaella, who wore a worried smile.