Family Secrets (22 page)

Andrew’s face lit up like a little boy’s when he talked about his place. It was still just a piece of land and some plans, but he could see it all in his head. He and Cassie had driven up on a sunny day, taking the Pekingese.

“You should have seen Muffin,” he said, grinning. “She looked like a little golden streak, running in and out among the trees. I wanted to paint her.”

He hardly had time to paint any more, what with going to the office all day and then attending to things at home. His land would be his painting now.

There was Papa, sitting up at that hotel, missing everything. He had been there four weeks: a whole month. It wasn’t like him to vegetate like an old man. He didn’t seem to miss them at all.

“Let’s go up there,” Lavinia said to Melissa.

“I can’t get Lazarus to budge.”

“It’s the money,” Lavinia said.

“Well, he’s busy with patients. He can’t just up and leave them.”

“He certainly leaves them on weekends. We could just go up for a weekend.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Melissa said.

“And I’ll talk to Jonah. I’ll call you tonight.”

Jonah would go anywhere. He was always ready to pack and go on any adventure. He and Lavinia and Paris could stay in one room. There were all sorts of outdoor sports at Laurel Pastures and he would have a good time. Lavinia knew Jonah would agree to anything she asked. She had only said to Melissa that she had to ask him so that Melissa couldn’t pretend Lazarus was the patriarch in her family. Patriarch, what a joke!

Lavinia called the hotel and made reservations for two rooms. There was a train that left four times a day and then the hotel car would pick you up at the station. She made train reservations too, and told the hotel what time to send the car. She felt better. Poor Papa would be glad to see them. It would be a nice surprise.

TWENTY-SIX

Adam liked Laurel Pastures. It was still too early to be the season, so the place was not crowded, just enough people for company if you wanted them and enough space to be alone with your thoughts if you wanted that. The dining room service was excellent and the food was very good. He particularly admired the buffet spread they offered every day at lunch, every platter so tastefully decorated. He tried to stick to his pot cheese and raw vegetables in order not to ruin his digestion, but sometimes he tasted a little piece of herring, or tongue, or sometimes even a blintz smothered with sour cream and oozing thick jam with whole cherries in it. Who could resist such a treat?

The hotel was situated among green and blue mountains, with acres of manicured lawns and gardens to stroll through. There was a lake, of course, with small rowboats. The main part of the hotel, where Adam had chosen to stay, was a huge Victorian house with a wide shady veranda all around it, overlooking the lake and the lawns and the mountains in the distance. The house was painted white. On the veranda, at intervals for private conversations, were groups of comfortable outdoor rocking chairs so that the guests who did not care for sports (which at this off-season time was most of them) could sit all day and rock and chat, waiting for the next meal. The wan spring sun warmed them outside, the good, old country food warmed them inside, and the view alone was worth every penny of the cost.

Inside the hotel there were two card rooms, which were kept busy day and night. One was for the ladies, and one for the men. The card room for the men was heavy with stale cigar smoke, while the one for the ladies was lively with chatter. The ladies detested cigars, and the men detested chatter, so everyone was happy. There was a music room, where recitals were sometimes held for the pleasure of the guests, and there was a piano lounge, where a thin, effeminate man played and sang old favorites and requests from five to seven while guests sat in plush armchairs and sipped drinks. There was also a room for dancing and drinking at night, a night club really. There was a floorshow on weekends, with well-known entertainers brought up specially. Usually it was a comedian who told jokes and anecdotes liberally sprinkled with Yiddish, sometimes slightly off-color, and the guests laughed heartily.

Adam had gone there the first night, alone, to the early show, and although he had no coat or hat with him, coming from the main building, he gave the coat check girl a dollar when he left because she was trim and refined-looking and he felt sorry for her. It was a shame for a woman to have to stand on her feet all night and work like that. She had gray hair. Her sons should be supporting her, it was a shame.

During the weekend Adam met several people he knew, and he occupied himself with pinochle games, and walks, and talks about business. There were the usual old widows chasing him, but he managed to evade them. None of them was at all his type. At night he slept well, alone, with his windows open to the clear mountain air, and he thought that this was somewhat the sort of place he would want his estate to be in the years to come, when all his children would be around him with their children, sleeping peacefully at night with clean, cool country air coming in through their open windows. Yes, he had done well to come away from the city, to peace and contemplation.

On Monday evening the night club was closed. Many of the people had only come up for the weekend. Adam did not mind that there were fewer people, for it made him feel that the place was his. It was always easy for him to make a new friend if he wanted one for a game of cards. He was rocking in a chair on the veranda, watching the sun set over the lake, when a woman approached him. He recognized her but was not quite sure from where. She was trim and neatly dressed, with gray hair.

“Mr. Saffron?” she said.

He stood politely. “How do?”

“I’m Etta, from the coat check concession.”

“Oh, yes.”

“It’s such a lovely evening, isn’t it,” she said pleasantly.

“Yes,” he said. He was not surprised that she knew his name; she had probably asked someone.

“Would you like to take a little walk, Mr. Saffron?” she asked.

“Why not?”

Side by side, not touching, slowly, solemnly, they walked around the veranda, taking their evening constitutional. The night was clear and not yet cold.

“You can make a living that way, in a coat check?” he asked her.

“I also supervise the salad decorations.”

“Ah. Very nice. I admired them.”

“Thank you. My husband died several years ago, leaving me without means,” she said. “But now my son is married and I have only me, so it’s easier. Naturally I wouldn’t live with him. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Children are a blessing but sometimes also a nuisance,” Adam said. “If they live with you it’s one thing, but if you live with them it’s a tragedy.”

“Oh, I agree. How well said!”

They walked around the veranda again in silence. He liked that she did not speak, but he suspected that her silence was because she had nothing to say. She didn’t seem like an intelligent woman, not an intellectual, but a man his age couldn’t be bothered with an intelligent woman, it was too tiring. She seemed a peaceful woman, and resourceful, and clever with her hands. No, he was sure she was not very intelligent. An intelligent woman would die of boredom standing in a coat check closet all night. An intelligent woman would have found work in some office somewhere. On the other hand, this Etta was not stupid. She knew a hotel like Laurel Pastures had rich men who gave good tips, and perhaps even rich men who were looking to marry.

She had found out his name, which was not difficult, and she had probably also found out that he was recently widowed, and she had sought him out this evening. No, she was not stupid. But he did the choosing, not the woman. She had to find that out immediately.

“Good evening,” he said pleasantly, when their stroll took them to the front entrance of the hotel. He nodded his head politely, then he turned and went in.

“Good night, Mr. Saffron,” Etta said pleasantly to his back, “Sleep well.”

He went into the men’s card room, but found it empty. Ah, these old men, in bed already at eight o’clock! Even he, a man of moderate habits, wouldn’t go to bed at eight o’clock. What did she mean, “sleep well”? Did she think he was so old? He walked into the lobby and looked at the bulletin board announcing the social events of the night. Bingo, that was for the ladies. Movies, an old laugh-filled Festival of Silent Films. Couldn’t they afford to get something new? Boring place. He bought the evening newspapers from the lobby newstand and went upstairs to his room.

The following evening after supper he was sitting on the veranda when she approached him again. He realized that the night club did not open until eight o’clock and so she was free. She pretended to be casual but Adam knew she had been looking for him.

“Well, Mr. Saffron,” Etta said. “How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m feeling well,” he said. “And you?”

“Well, thank you. Would you like to take a little walk?”

“Why not?”

He stood, and again they conducted their ritual of the slow, leisurely walk around the veranda in companionable silence. If the woman was after him, why wasn’t she chattering? She should be trying to draw him out, flattering him, telling him how wonderful she was. This woman was either very stupid or very smart. He decided he liked her.

“How old are you?” he asked abruptly.

“I’m … forty-six.”

He shouldn’t have embarrassed her. Women didn’t like to tell their ages. “You shouldn’t be ashamed,” he said. “You look good for forty-six. Myself, I’m fifty-six, so you see to me you’re just a young girl.”

“Ten years isn’t so much among adults,” she said.

“Nu, so what’s age anyway if you’ve got your health?”

“Very wisely said, Mr. Saffron. Health is everything. My husband was much older, but he was just like a young man. He died on the tennis court.”

“The tennis court!”

“Yes. Heart attack. I told him not to play singles.”

“A man plays tennis like a gentleman and he leaves his wife without money?”

“He always liked to enjoy himself.”

“You have only the one son?”

“Yes.”

“He has children?”

“No, he’s a newlywed.” She smiled.

“You like the bride?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

They walked in silence again. He thought tonight he might go to bed early. The mountain air made him feel tired and the evenings were empty. Four days, and already he was nudgy.

“You live in New York?” he asked Etta.

“Yes.”

“I too.”

“Actually, I used to lived in New York,” she said. “Now I live here.”

“Here?”

“My room and board are part of the job.”

“But there are no coats to check during the summer.”

“We’re very busy in the kitchen. And we do weddings here in the summer, especially in June.”

“Ah …”

“You must find it restful here, Mr. Saffron,” she said.

“Restful, yes. Also boring. And you?”

“Also boring.” She looked at him and smiled.

She was an attractive woman, he thought. He liked a woman who kept herself neat and immaculate. She had well-chiseled features and very fair skin. What he could see of her legs beneath her skirt hem was trim and nice, and she had small feet with a high arch. Her fingernails were perfectly manicured, and she wore a simple gold wedding ring. The youngish face with the gray hair made a striking combination. She was not a woman a man like himself would be ashamed to be seen with, for she was refined and not too young, yet young enough to still be a woman. She glanced at her wristwatch.

“I have to go now, Mr. Saffron.”

“I’m sorry you have to work,” he said. “Otherwise I would invite you to be my dancing partner.”

She smiled. “I’m sorry too.”

She left for her job and Adam strolled around the veranda by himself. It was not good for a man to be alone.

The next evening after supper he found that he was looking forward to her appearance. She did not disappoint him. Before she could ask him, Adam stood up from his chair and offered her his arm. She took it, and slowly, sedately, they set off on their walk. It was the first time he had touched her. It was his gesture of acceptance, for Adam did not like to be touched except by people he chose to touch him. She seemed to recognize this.

“Did you have a nice day?” she asked.

He nodded. “Restful. And you, what do you do all day?”

“I read in my room, I take care of personal things, and then I’m very busy decorating the salads.”

“Yes, of course, the famous salads. But then, you must also have some free time.”

“Oh, yes.”

“You don’t mind being alone?”

“No. I’m used to it. There are so many little things to do the day goes by.”

“What do you read?”

“Mostly mysteries.”

It was the time in his life for a simple woman. “You have family, besides your son?” Adam asked.

“No. They’ve all passed away.”

Good. He didn’t like supporting relatives. “Your son enjoys his job?”

“He works for an airline. He likes it very much.”

“Ah, an airline.”

“He’s in the office right now, but he’s learning to be a pilot.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“I can’t run his life.”

“No,” Adam said, “that’s true.”

“How long are you expecting to stay here, Mr. Saffron?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet. I would like to know you better.”

“There’s not much to know,” Etta said with a rueful little smile.

“Then I won’t have to stay long.”

“Then I wish there was more to know.”

“Why?” he said. “Maybe when I go I’ll take you with me.”

“Oh, you’re teasing me!”

“Why did you ask me to take a walk with you that first night?” Adam asked abruptly.

“You looked lonesome.”

“I was. My wife had passed away.”

“I know. I’m very sorry.”

“You knew?”

“Everybody knows about everybody here,” she said.

It’s no crime to want to marry a rich man, Adam thought. There isn’t a widow here, even the ones with diamonds on every finger, who doesn’t want to marry a rich man. Did he think for one minute they were all chasing him because he was so handsome? So Etta was human, so what? She would get something and he would get something.