Treasures (9 page)

“It’s never too soon when it’s real,” Lara said.

Eddy shrugged. “Time will tell. Meanwhile, I’ve no problem meeting girls, especially at that fancy club on Long Island—uh, in the country—that I joined.”

Curious, Connie asked how that had come about. Eddy explained. “One of my clients got me in. I guess it
took some doing on his part, because it’s not easy to get into these clubs. But then, I’ve gotten over a million dollars’ worth of investors in his real estate for him, so I guess he wanted to do me a favor—or keep the money coming in, either one.”

And again Connie felt a twinge of embarrassment, especially before Richard, who had come back into the room. She would have liked to advise Eddy very gently, without humiliating him, that he should not crow quite so triumphantly over his successes. But seeing the sheer happiness in those sea-blue eyes, she could not bring herself to do it, however gently.

Presently, though, Eddy himself seemed to become aware that he had been attracting too much attention, for he turned to Davey and Lara asking, “So, what have you two been doing since I saw you?”

“Just more of the same,” Davey replied quietly.

Lara corrected him. “Not so. Davey’s working on something new that looks very important. Not that I know anything about machinery, but he showed it to a doctor in town who thought it was—”

“No, no,” Davey interrupted. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“You never talk about yourself,” his wife countered. “Dr. Lewis was impressed. You know he was. If you don’t tell them, I will.”

Davey gave in. “Oh, all right. It’s a funny thing how ideas come. I’d been working half a year on something entirely different, something to do with credit cards, and wasn’t getting anywhere. Then one day at a gas station I
saw a kid pumping up his bike tires, and for no reason at all this thing popped into my head.”

“The moment he explained it, I had a feeling—I know it sounds ridiculous to talk about feelings when I don’t even understand facts—but I knew, I just knew, that Davey had something important.” Lara’s face was vivid with excitement.

“My wife,” Davey said, looking not unpleased, “always thinks I’m a genius. All it is is a kind of improvement, a little gimmick for a heart pump. The balloons that push blood through the arteries, you know? Here, I’ll show you.”

The five heads leaning across the table almost touched each other as Davey drew a rough sketch on the back of a scrap of paper.

“What I’ve done is figure out a timing device. It’s like a computer really, you set it and”—he crumpled the paper—“I can’t make it clear this way, but it’s really a fairly simple concept.”

“For people who know about machinery or computers, maybe it is,” Richard said, “but not for people like me.”

“So you showed it to a doctor and he thinks it makes sense?” Eddy asked, rather sharply.

“Yes, but he’s not a heart specialist. I’ve been thinking I ought to take my model—I’ve built a complete working model—to one of the big university research centers and let them see what they can do with it.”

“Now, wait a minute! Hold it,” Eddy cried. “You don’t mean you’d just hand it over and let somebody else get all the benefit?”

“Benefit?” Davey’s tone was puzzled. “If the idea’s really any good, heart patients will be the ones to get the benefit, I hope.”

“Of course,” Eddy agreed impatiently. “My question was whether you intend to give the idea away and let other people take the credit for it.”

“Oh, I’d like to have my name attached to it, of course I would.”

“And money? Don’t you understand those people would take your idea and make a fortune out of it? Money. Everything comes down to money. At your age you should know that.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, Eddy,” Lara said. “You’ve always been a giver.”

“Yes, when I’ve had something to give. First you have to have. Then, give to your heart’s content.” Eddy paused a moment, frowning. “Take care of yourself first. Why, you shouldn’t even have let that doctor look at your model for five seconds. You have no patent. Hell, I can’t make head or tail out of that sketch, but if there’s the least chance of its being worth something, you have to protect yourself, Davey.”

“I’m not thinking of it that way.” Davey’s voice, always low, was even lower than usual as he made his point. “I’m not looking to make money. I only want to do something worthwhile, if I can.”

At that, with an expression of mock despair, Eddy rolled his eyes. “Davey, Davey. Don’t you think that a person who does something worthwhile should be rewarded? Did Thomas Edison take a vow of poverty?”

“He’s right,” Richard said gently. “I can admire your
ideals, but Eddy’s right. You can do something good for the world and for yourself too.”

Babes in the woods, Connie was thinking. Lara is Peg’s daughter. And Davey is Lara’s opposite number. You could leave your life’s savings on the table, and they wouldn’t touch a cent of it if they were starving.

“Listen to me. I’m taking charge of this,” Eddy said. “You keep this idea under your hat, hear me? No talking about it to anyone, you understand? I’m going to find the best patent lawyer in Ohio.”

Connie had to smile. Here was the familiar brother again, taking control as he had used to do when Pop had drunk too much or when Peg was sick, breezing into the house, absorbing the situation in a second and immediately organizing everybody.

“After you get the patent,” Eddy went on, “you’ll need financing to set up a small plant and start producing. There are a lot of defunct buildings in town, I remember, but you’ll need plenty of cash to modernize. You’ll need bank credit. You’ll need collateral.” He began to pace up and down the room. “I can take care of that. I can lend you whatever you need. A pure loan, mind you. I don’t want to muscle in on your business, Davey. I only want to see you two get ahead, that’s all.” He stopped in front of Lara. “And if this thing is really good, I’m thinking you ought to quit teaching and help Davey. He’s the dreamer who dreams things up, and you’ve got the head for figures. You’re every bit as good as I am. Now’s your chance to help Davey’s brainchild get born.” Next Eddy turned to Richard. “And you’re in
one of the world’s biggest ad agencies. We’ll need you, too, when the time comes.”

“I feel sort of numb,” Davey said, “as if I’d been gone over with a steamroller. I don’t know why I don’t just say no to the whole business.”

“Because this steamroller is painless,” Connie replied. “Go sit down,” she commanded Lara, who had begun to clear the table. “You’re company.”

“No, I haven’t had a chance to be alone with you.”

There was barely room for two in the kitchen. Lara perched on a stool while Connie stacked the dishwasher. It crossed Connie’s mind that most of their conversations since they had grown up had been held in kitchens after an evening meal.

“Oh, I do like Richard,” Lara exclaimed now. “I know what you meant. He’s delightful. And what’s more important, you feel that he’s good. A true good person.”

“You see? You didn’t trust me, did you?”

Lara laughed. “Oh, you’re as smart as they come, Connie, but even smart people can make horrendous mistakes.”

“Well, Richard’s no mistake, as you see. Everyone likes him wherever we go.”

“Tell me what you do all day,” Lara said, glancing around the kitchen.

“I know what you’re thinking, that there isn’t enough to do in this little place and that I ought to go to work. Well, I will, but right now I’m feeling my way and enjoying it. Richard has married friends, and I’ve been going around with some of the wives to the art galleries and places, and oh, frankly, spending money for the first
time in my life. Not on junk either; I’ve bought clothes and loads of books—remember how Pop used to buy books even though he couldn’t afford them? Well, now I can afford them, and it’s a good feeling, let me tell you.”

“Guess it must be.”

“Lara, I hope you’ll keep after Davey and make him listen to Eddy. If Davey’s really on to something, this may be your chance to get up in the world.”

“We’re all right. We have enough. But for Davey’s sake I hope something does come of his idea. He’s worked so hard on so many things that came to nothing, and I don’t want him to get discouraged.”

“You’re an angel, Lara.”

“Of course I’m not. People aren’t meant to be angels.”

“Well, whatever you are, you’re not like me.”

Connie was feeling a subtle alteration in the bond between herself and her sister. Here now in this home of her own, a prosperous home with her young, achieving husband—unlike Lara’s husband—it seemed almost as if there had been a reversal of roles, as if she, who had always been the recipient of advice and counsel, were now the one to be giving them. But Lara’s manner was unchanged.

“I’m so glad you have someone to love you,” she said with her tender look. “Nothing else really matters very much in the end.”

“I suppose not,” Connie replied. Lara’s cliché was irritating. At the same time it troubled her that a harmless cliché could annoy her that much.

An odd silence came momentarily between the sisters,
so that Connie was relieved when the men appeared to remind them that it was time to go home.

“Next time at our house,” Davey said. “And make it soon. You should show Richard where your roots are, Connie.”

“Not for a couple of months,” replied Richard. “Connie and I are going to Europe for six weeks.”

“We are?” cried Connie. “We are?”

“Yes, I was going to keep the surprise a little longer, but it just won’t keep. We haven’t had a honeymoon, and this will be it. Besides, I’m turning twenty-five.” And at the corners of Richard’s smiling eyes, fine crinkles rayed.

Connie’s astonishment, Richard’s satisfaction, and the others’ generous pleasure on their behalf warmed the little space in which they stood together. And this warmth seemed to linger in the rooms even after all questions had been asked and answered and the guests had gone home.

“But can you afford to take six weeks off?” asked Connie while they were undressing.

“I’ve got some time owed to me, and besides, one’s entitled to a honeymoon.”

“I meant the cost. It’ll be frightfully expensive, won’t it?”

“I get the money from my grandmother’s trust next month, and I’m going to use a small slice for this trip.”

“Is that what you meant when you said you were turning twenty-five?”

“I did. And I meant that we’re going to do this in grand style too. Fly over, see a bit of Italy and France,
maybe Belgium, finish in England, and come back on the
Queen Elizabeth.
How does that sound?”

“Like heaven,” she said dreamily.

Of course, she had hoped for such good things somewhere in a future, vague but not too far off. That they should be coming so soon was a marvel. “A small slice of the trust,” he’d said. So then, the trust must be a very large one.

Richard was stretched out on the bed while she still had to remove makeup and brush her hair. This routine had already formed itself: He watched her prepare for bed while they talked over the day. There was already something very comfortable about the custom, as though they had been following it for years.

“Nice people tonight,” he said. “I like your family.”

“I’m glad.”

It was good to have some cause for pride before him, and she had been very proud of her family on this evening. Eddy’s bravado was a little overdone, to be sure, but after all, nobody was perfect, and one could only have respect for Davey’s and Lara’s quiet dignity.

She thought aloud, “Lara’s a sweet, simple soul.”

“Not that simple. She’s smart and strong. It’s only her manner that fools you.”

“Do you think so? Yes, I guess you’re right.”

And Connie became aware of how perceptive Richard was; it was only
his
own manner that fooled you. People were made in layers, she reflected, and as you peeled them away one by one, you could be astonished by what you found each time. She wondered whether he could be peeling her away, layer by layer. It might be that he
would learn more about her than she knew, or would ever know, about herself. The thought was forbidding. She began vigorously to brush her hair.

“Something crossed your mind just now,” Richard observed.

“What makes you say that?”

“A shadow crossed your face.”

“Really? I was only thinking how beautiful Lara is.”

“You’re more so.”

“No, no. Look again at the bone structure. Hers is flawless.”

“I’ve looked. Bones or no, you’re the one with the energy and the life. Stand up and let me look at you. Take off your robe.”

Pink silk slithered to the floor, leaving her naked before him. Turning her head toward the mirror on the open closet door, she could see herself, very white and very curved, with narrow, sloping shoulders like the women in
Godey’s Lady’s Book
, with high, small breasts like the ones on ancient statues and with round hips like those on Renoir’s rosy nudes.

“No one would ever guess what’s underneath your clothes,” Richard said.

“As long as you like it.”

The sight of her own body, combined with the sight of his languorous sprawl on the bed, aroused excitement and a little shiver of anticipation.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes shining. “Beautiful.”

In the lamplight his skin was dark gold against his white silk pajamas. And through a moment that seemed
very long, she waited for him to take off the pajamas, or at least to make a move. When he did move, it was to stretch his arms above his head, sigh, and yawn, showing his perfect teeth.

“It’s been a long day, darling, and I’ll be leaving early in the morning. I expect to be up to my ears in work for the next few weeks. It’s always like that before you go on vacation.”

The message was clear. She put on a nightgown and got into the bed, where Richard had fallen almost instantly asleep.

Her restless mind roamed back over the evening, to Eddy, who was fitting out a place for himself in this bewildering city as if he had been born to it … to Lara and Davey, who had their own very different place … And she wondered about them. They never changed. She thought of gestures she had seen in passing, their standing embraces in the kitchen, Davey’s kisses on the back of Lara’s neck when she sat reading. What pleasures must they not have in their bed? But of course one could never even hint about such things to Lara, no matter how tactfully, how delicately; to Lara “such things” would be sacrosanct.