Sleeping Beauty (48 page)

“Of course it could happen,” Anne said. “I think it's wonderful that you care and that you do something about it. But that makes you very special; you shouldn't call yourself ordinary.”

“Oh. Well, that's very kind of you, Anne; that's pleasant to hear. But it's not a profession, you know, or anything that takes brilliance or learning. It's just a nice little hobby. That's what Vince calls it.”

“He's wrong,” Anne said. “You're making a place for yourself in the world, trying to be part of it and have some influence on it. That takes a lot of thought and time and caring. I'm very proud of you.”

“My goodness.” William was blushing. “My goodness, what beautiful words. Thank you, Anne. Dear Anne. You've become such a lovely woman, with lovely thoughts. You should get married, though, and have a family. It's not natural, you know, just to be a lawyer.”

Anne smiled. “I'll have to give that some thought.”

“Now I've heard that you went hiking last week with this young man who used to live with Dora. I liked him, you know, though I didn't see much of him; he didn't spend much time with us, which made me wonder about him. But I liked him, I did indeed, and I understand he's much admired in his field. Tombs and museums and such. Have you seen him again?”

Looking past William, Anne saw Gail and Leo driving up, with the children in the backseat. One of the things about not having a family, she thought, is that no one asks any questions. “We had dinner one night in Los Angeles,” she replied.

“And?” William asked.

“And we had a pleasant time.”

“Pleasant. What a word; it can mean anything. What's he want with you, do you know? After all, you cost him a heap of money. So what's he doing, squiring you around?”

“I don't know,” Anne said.

“But you must've asked yourself that.”

She smiled. “Mostly I asked myself what
I
was doing.”

“And what did you decide?”

“He's a good companion, good to talk to, good to listen to. He's interesting and I can relax with him.”

“Sounds pretty bland to me. Is he bland?”

“I doubt it.”

“So what's he after?”

“Friendship, I imagine. Isn't that enough?”

“With a woman who beat the pants off him in a lawsuit? Now I like him, I told you I liked him, but that does sound peculiar to me.”

“He'll be here for dinner tomorrow night. Why don't you ask him?”

“He'll be here? How interesting. Has he ever been married?”

“No.”

“Well, that's unfortunate. I have a deep fear that I'll make someone a poor husband because I've had no practice at it.”

“You have a deep fear of marriage,” Anne said. “All the other fears will disappear when that one does. Do you know what it is that frightens you?”

“Well. Well, of course you'd figure that out; after all, your specialty is marriage, isn't it, or at least the endings of them. Is that why you've never married? You hear too many war stories?”

“No. I don't think marriage is a war.”

“Oh, but it is, my dear. Far too often.”

Anne looked at him curiously. “Where have you seen that?”

“Everywhere. Nina and her various husbands, Vince and Rita, Marian and Fred, and too many of my friends. And your parents had their difficult times, my dear, and even
my
parents, though they were forgotten, of course, as they should have been, in the tragedy of death.”

“Difficult times don't make a war,” Anne said. How odd for her to be defending marriage, she thought.

“No, but marriage is a minefield, full of unpredictable emotions and violent passions. I prefer being calm. There's too much turmoil in the world; I can't bring myself to deliberately add more of it to my own life.”

“But didn't you just tell me that you thought I should be married?”

“Ah, but for you it's different. You're—”

“Hi!” shouted Ned, rocketing across the deck and flinging
his arms around Anne. Robin was behind him and she nuzzled up to Anne's other side. “We won, Aunt Anne! I caught a pass and made a forty-yard run for a touchdown and only one guy was even near me, but I'm a lot faster than him. You know who it was? Phil Morton, the jerk weed who said it was my dad's fault the water's poisoned. I knocked him down for that yesterday. And today, boy, you should've seen his face when he couldn't catch me! He's an asshole anyway.”

“Should you be using that word, Ned?” William asked mildly.

Anne looked up as Gail and Leo came onto the deck. “Is that what they're saying in town?”

“Some of them,” Leo said.

“A lot of them,” said Gail. “I wish I knew what to do about it; we can't exactly put an ad in the paper saying we had nothing to do with it.”

“
I
know,” Ned declared. “You tell 'em it's sabotage and we're fixing it. That's what I figure, anyway. It's like Indiana Jones. Somebody wanted something so they blew up the mountain and started the avalanche.”

“Hold on,” Leo said. “That's a serious accusation, Ned; I don't want you going around town with it. We have enough problems without making far-out charges that could set people against each other, wondering who did what. I'm sorry you had to fight Phil, but—”

“I'm not sorry! It was great! He apologized, too. Sort of.”

“We have to talk about what we say to people,” Gail said. “All we should be talking about are the things the company is saying in its ads and press releases, that nobody's in danger and we're taking care of everything and the ski season will be great. Everybody's scared, you know; all the shopkeepers and lodge owners wait all year for two months in the summer and four and a half in the winter, and now they're beginning to think nobody will come.”

Leo put his arm around her. “None of that is going to happen. We'll have a rough fall, but the ski season will be fine. We'll just have to wait it out. We can do it, you know.
After all, there are four of us”—he glanced at Anne and William—“six of us, hell, a whole family, and there's nothing in the world that people can't do if they've got a family and they love each other. Right?”

“Right,” Gail said, her voice low. “It's just that I hate it when things aren't calm.”

Anne and William exchanged a look. “It's in the genes,” William said. “None of the Chathams do well in a crisis.”

“We do fine,” Leo said firmly. “Hey, don't we get any lunch around here? We'd better fortify ourselves or we won't have the strength to go scrounging under trees for mushrooms.”

“Let's get it ready,” Gail said, “and let Anne and William go on talking.”

“Well,” William said when he and Anne were alone again. “That was very nice. I'm sure they have their problems, like any married couple, but they're young and flexible and they're learning to manage them. That's what I was saying about you, my dear. You're young and intelligent; you could find someone and make a good marriage, as good as could be expected—”

“Oh, how encouraging,” said Anne, gently mocking.

“—but still probably better than being alone and feeling a big chunk of life has passed you by. I'm sorry I've been so afraid of it, but that's how it is, and I probably never will, now; I'll just go on giving advice. It's good advice; you should think seriously about it. What's his name again—this fella who's coming to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Josh Durant,” Anne said.

“Well, you never know.” William clasped his hands across his paunch and gazed contentedly at the view. “I've never been here, did you know that? It took you to get me here. I like it more than I thought I would. You say his name as if you like him.”

“I do,” Anne said after a moment. She wondered what exactly William had heard in her voice. She wondered about it all day, even while she was learning to identify the best of the edible mushrooms, and all the next day while she
worked on papers she had brought from her office, and while she and Gail prepared dinner with the chanterelles they had picked and the trout Leo had caught that afternoon, and while she was changing for dinner into a pair of wool slacks and a cotton turtleneck sweater. Then, combing her hair in her bedroom, she found herself looking forward to the evening, to seeing Josh with the family. She stood still, with the comb in her hand, gazing at herself in the mirror. This was not normal for her. She had friends in Los Angeles, both women and men, but she didn't think her voice changed when she talked about them, and she couldn't ever remember thinking it would be nice to see them within a family.

What's he want with you? You cost him a heap of money. I like him, but that does sound peculiar to me.

“Damn it,” Anne muttered. She finished combing her hair and pinned it back with silver clips, and slipped on a silver and turquoise bracelet. I don't want to analyze anything; I just want to have a nice time.

But I won't talk much tonight; this will be a time for listening. Whatever William heard in my voice, it would be better if no one else heard it, at least until I know what it was.

It turned out to be easy to be quiet because there were eight people for dinner. Not only was William there; at the last minute Gail had invited Keith.

“Boy, am I glad to meet you,” he said, pumping Anne's hand. “You're a real celebrity, you know? Everybody's talking about you.”

Anne's eyebrows rose. “Who?”

“Oh, like people in town. You know.”

“No, I don't.”

“Well, you know, people. Like Timothy. I was in there having a beer the other day and he said he, you know, saw you.”

“He just happened to say that?”

“Well, not exactly. I said like I'm your cousin and did he know you and he said like sure. I've been really wanting to meet you, Anne; it's great that Gail, you know, invited me.
So how long are you here for? Are you gonna like move here? There's a lot of lawyers in town, but I guess there's always room for, you know, one more. Specially divorce; there's a lot of divorce around here; you could really clean up.”

“I'm not moving here; I live in Los Angeles,” Anne said. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to help with dinner.” She fled to the kitchen. “Is he the local CIA?” she asked Gail.

“Who?” Robin asked, coming in from setting the table.

“Keith,” Anne said. “He doesn't talk; he just asks questions.”

“I'm really surprised,” said Gail. “He's never paid attention to us before, even when he's here for dinner, which isn't often. Maybe he's between girls; he really wanted to come tonight—in fact, he was the one who called, for a change.”

Anne looked through the doorway and watched Keith talking with great animation to Josh, Leo, and William. “Does it strike you that there's something a little off-key about him?”

“Off-key? Like what?”

“It looks to me more like rampant curiosity than paying attention.”

“Oh. Well, that could be true. Maybe he's realized he doesn't know too much about any of us and he's beginning to care about having a family. Poor Keith, he's not too smart but he does his job, and it means a lot to Marian to know he's settled down; he had a bad time with drugs a while back.”

They worked in silence. “Robin can do this,” Gail said. “You haven't had a chance to talk to Josh.”

“We have the whole evening,” Anne replied. “I'll talk to everybody.”

“Even Keith?” Robin asked.

“Robin, you keep all this to yourself,” said Gail. “He's our cousin and our guest.”

“I still don't like him,” Robin said.

“Why?” asked Anne.

Robin shrugged. “I don't know. He's always looking past
you. Like he's thinking about something else when you're talking to him.”

“Poor Keith,” Gail said again. “He tries so hard but nobody seems to like him. I hope he does have some girlfriends who make him feel good about himself.” There was a pause. “You're very quiet tonight,” she said to Anne. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” She put her arm around Gail. “I'm glad to be here. Shall we start taking things to the table?”

“Sure.”

Robin and Anne carried food to the dining room while Gail cooked the trout, and then everyone was seated around the large round table. Beneath a wrought-iron chandelier, candles flickered over a centerpiece of red grapes and golden aspen leaves, and the flames were reflected in the broad windows that framed the last streaks of umber and tangerine from a brilliant sunset. “Well, this is very good,” said William, pulling his chair closer. “Very good indeed, all of us together like this. I drink to your health. I'm sorry Charles didn't come with me; we talked about it, but he's doing some kind of negotiating and couldn't get away. He would have enjoyed this gathering.”

“What kind of negotiating?” Gail demanded.

“Well, you know it's about Tamarack, my dear; there's no sense pretending. Your father is terribly worried; well, we all are. We may not survive, you know. You tend to ignore that, Gail, but you have to face it: if we lose Chatham Development, we all suffer. Not as much as Charles, it's true, because he's the only one who put his personal fortune on the line, but just in general, you know, it would be a black day for all the Chathams to lose the company Ethan Chatham founded. You wouldn't want that to happen.”

“Tamarack was Grandpa's company, too,” Gail said stubbornly. “And he loved it more than Chatham Development, at least for the last years of his life. I feel bad about Daddy, but he shouldn't ask us to let him sell The Tamarack Company. It was Grandpa's dream and now it's ours, and up until the last couple of months it was doing wonderfully,
and I want to get it back there again, not sell it to somebody who doesn't give a damn about it the way we do.”