Wanderlust (4 page)

We ought to take a trip together one of these days. The words blurted out of her mouth before she could stop them, and her grandfather looked at her, startled.

A trip? To where? They had been planning to go to Lake Tahoe in August. They always did. But he instantly suspected she meant something more, and something about the way she said it reminded him far too much of Roland.

To Europe maybe, like we did in '25 ' or back to Hawaii ' . And the Orient from there, she wanted to add, but she didn't dare to say it.

Why would we want to do that? He looked annoyed, but it wasn't annoyance he was feeling, it was fear. He didn't mind losing Annabelle, but he was terrified of losing Audrey. Life wouldn't have been the same without her, without her competent hand, sharp mind, her way of perceiving things, and the wonderful battles they had shared for almost two decades now. I'm too old to go traveling halfway around the world.

Then let's go to New York. Her eyes lit up, and for a moment, he almost felt sorry for her. There wasn't much she could do on her own, and most of the girls she had gone to school with had long since been married. Most of them had two or three children already, and husbands who could take them wherever they wanted to go. Audrey was still waiting in the wings for a man who seemed now as though he was not destined to appear, and in some ways Edward Driscoll felt guilty. It was no wonder she had never found a man. She was too busy running his home and taking care of her sister. But now at least she was gone ' he felt no regrets at all, as he looked at Audrey's pretty face, the peach silk hat cast aside now, and her thick brandy-colored hair cascading to her shoulders. She was a damn pretty girl ' a fine-looking woman, he added silently to himself. Well, why not? She was looking at him expectantly, and he had forgotten what she'd said, but she seemed to expect an answer.

Why not what? He looked both confused and annoyed, and Audrey realized that he was tired after the long day, and he'd probably had a little too much champagne, not that it would do him any harm, and he was drinking a cognac now. But he was by no means drunk, as she looked at him hopefully.

Why not go to New York, Grandpa? We could go in September when we come back from the lake.

Why would we want to do that? But he knew why. He had been young once ' he had had a wife ' she hadn't been all that fond of tramping about, though. It was Roland who had had that bug, their only son, and God only knew where he'd gotten his hunger for travel and adventure. It was probably in Audrey's blood, Edward Driscoll mourned silently to himself, but it had killed his son and he wasn't about to let Audrey indulge it. New York's a damn unhealthy place, too crowded, and too far away. You'll feel better after you get to the lake, Audrey. You always do. Edward Driscoll glanced at his watch then, and stood up with only a slight wobble in his knees. It had been a big day for him, not that he was likely to admit it. I'm going up to bed, and you'd best do the same, my dear. You've had a long day, getting that child married off. He patted her arm on their way upstairs, which was an unusual gesture for him, and that night he stood at his bedroom window, watching the lights shine in hers, wondering what she was doing, and what she was thinking. He would have been startled had he seen her sitting at her dressing table, staring into space, her pearls in her hand, thinking of the trip she wanted to take, halfway around the world and of the pictures she longed to take when she got there. Her grandfather, this house, her sister, the wedding, all were forgotten as Audrey sat and dreamed, and then at last, she shook herself back to the present, stood up, stretched, and went to her dressing room to get undressed. It was only a few minutes later when she slid between the cool sheets and closed her eyes trying not to think of all she had to do the next day. She had promised to take care of everything for Annabelle while she was away ' overseeing the new house ' the painters ' the furniture due to arrive ' the wedding gifts to put away ' as always, she would do it all ' as always ' faithful Audrey ' she drifted off to sleep dreaming of Annabelle and Harcourt ' and a house on a tropical island as her grandfather shouted to her from the distance ' Come back ' come back ' but she wouldn't.

Typically, in spite of the three weeks she spent at Lake Tahoe at the Driscoll summer home, Audrey managed to have everything in order for Annabelle and Harcourt when they returned in late September. There was a small but adequate staff in the pretty little stone house that Harcourt had bought for them. The rooms were painted in the colors Annabelle had wanted, the furniture was in place, their car had even been serviced and Audrey had seen to it herself that it was started regularly so that the battery didn't die in their absence.

Your sister certainly does know how to run a house, doesn't she? Harcourt commented at breakfast after their first night back, and Annabelle smiled at him. She was happy he was pleased. She had been afraid that he would be angry with her for letting Audrey do it all, but she did it all so well, why not let her? Harcourt appeared to agree. Although, on California Street at that exact moment, no one was praising her domestic skills. Her grandfather was ranting about his eggs being overcooked and his tea not being made properly, and what was more, he hadn't had a decent breakfast in weeks, he roared. They had a new cook and he was harassing Audrey that she wasn't as good as the last one.

Can't you find a decent cook for this house? Am I expected to eat food like this for the rest of my days, or is it that you're trying to kill me? Audrey repressed a smile at the tirade, he had been saying the same thing for days and she was already looking for someone else to replace the new cook he didn't like. She was used to it and this morning she was more preoccupied with what she had read in the papers. The average weekly wage was down to less than seventeen dollars from twenty-eight dollars only three years before, and there were breadlines everywhere. Some five thousand banks had failed, more than eighty thousand businesses had gone bust, and so many people had committed suicide. The state of the nation was becoming more and more disastrous. And the statistics in the morning paper were frightening. The gross national product had fallen to half its level of three years before. It was really an impossible situation, and her brow was furrowed as she drank her coffee.

I don't know how you can continue to ignore what's going on, Grandfather. She only called him that when she was angry with him, and she was angry at what was happening to the country and his continued defense of Herbert Hoover.

If you spent more time paying attention to what goes on in this house and less time noticing what goes on in the world, we'd have a better cook, and I would have a decent breakfast.

Most people have no breakfast at all. Have you thought of that? She was on one of her rampages, he knew. But he didn't mind. Secretly, he enjoyed them. The country's going all to hell.

Has been for years, Audrey. That's nothing new. And it isn't exclusive to this country either. He poked a finger at the newspaper. Says here that Germany is crawling with unemployed, and so is England. They have it too. So what? You expect me to sit home and cry about it?

That was the frustrating thing, there was so little one could do. At least you could vote intelligently.

I don't like what you call intelligence. He glared at her, but he was raving mad when the election results came in and Roosevelt had beaten Hoover by taking sixty percent of the vote. Audrey was delighted and they had had a rousing row. They were still fighting about it that night when Annabelle and Harcourt came to dinner, and then proceeded to leave early. She said that their political conversations gave her a headache, but she managed to confide her secret to Audrey nonetheless. She was expecting a baby in May, and Audrey was delighted for her. She was going to be an aunt. It was an odd thought as she walked her grandfather upstairs that night, still muttering about Hoover's defeat. But she wasn't listening to him now, she was thinking about Annabelle and her baby. Annie would be twenty-one when the baby was born ' twenty-one ' and she had everything she always wanted. And Audrey was twenty-five and had accomplished nothing at all. It began to depress her as the rainy season set in, and even the books she read seemed gloomy. But as Annabelle's pregnancy advanced, she was too busy to be gloomy. There was so much to do, the layette to buy, the nursery to set up, the baby nurse to hire, and Annie was too tired to do much of it herself. As usual, Audrey did it all for her. And just after their grandfather's eighty-first birthday, the baby was born, a big, healthy boy who didn't seem to have caused his mother too much trouble. Audrey was the first to see them both, after Harcourt, of course, and she saw to it that everything was in order at the house before Annie and the baby came home from the hospital two weeks later.

Audrey was standing in the nursery folding a little pile of blue blankets and taking a quick inventory of little Winston's new world when Harcourt stopped in the doorway. I thought I'd find you here. His eyes bored into hers as though he had something to say to her, and Audrey turned, surprised. They seldom had much to say to each other. Most of Audrey's dealings were with her sister. Don't you ever get tired of doing things for her? He walked slowly into the room and Audrey set down the little pile of blue blankets as she shook her head, and smiled.

Not really. I've been doing it for a long time.

And you're going to go on doing it forever? It seemed an odd question and there was something strange in his voice as he advanced toward her and she suddenly wondered if he had been drinking.

I've never given it much thought. I enjoy taking care of things for Annie.

Oh? He raised an eyebrow and stood so close to her in the sunny little nursery that Audrey could almost feel his breath on her face, and then suddenly he reached out and touched her. His hand was gentle on her cheek, as he drifted a finger lazily to her lips, and then tried to pull her toward him. For an instant, shocked at what he was doing, she didn't resist, and then, just as quickly, she pulled away, avoiding his lips, which brushed her silky hair, and then he reached out and grabbed her waist with two powerful hands as she tried to escape him.

Harcourt, stop it!

Don't be such a prude ' you're twenty-six years old for chrissake, are you going to play spinster virgin forever? It was an unkind thing to say and his words hurt her more than his hands as he pulled on her hair, and tilted her mouth up to his so he could kiss her. Her protests were garbled as he did, and she pushed him away with more force now, beginning to look very angry.

Harcourt, dammit, stop! She wrenched herself away from him, breathless, and moved instinctively to the other side of the room, the baby's crib between them. Are you crazy?

Is it crazy to want you? I could have married you, you know. And he thought now that he probably should have, no matter how difficult she was, with her damn political ideas and all the books she read, and her fancy education. He would have given her something else to think about, and at least she had more spirit than his wife. He was already tired of Annabelle's helplessness and constant childlike whining. What Harcourt wanted was a woman. A real one. Like Audrey.

You seem to be a little confused. Audrey was eyeing him sharply now. You're married to my sister, and you could never have married me.

Why not? You think you're too good for me, Miss High and Mighty? Too smart? He looked angry at the thought. The truth was that she was smarter than most of the people she knew, women or men, but he didn't like that idea. You're a hot little number waiting for the right man, and you made a big mistake bowing out on me, Audrey Driscoll.

Maybe so. She repressed a smile. He was ridiculous really, and undoubtedly harmless. She felt sorry for Annie, having to deal with him, and she suddenly wondered if he had been assaulting all their female friends of late. She hoped not, because if so, the word would get around. But in any case, Harcourt, you're married to Annabelle now, and you have a beautiful son. I suggest you behave like the head of a family, and not a damn fool or a masher.

His eyes blazed as he stood across the crib from her, and grabbed her arm. You're the damn fool ' . His voice was very measured when he spoke again. Do you know that we're alone in the house, Audrey? All of the servants are out.

For an instant she felt a shiver of fear run up her spine. But she wouldn't allow herself to be afraid of him. He was a damn fool and a spoiled boy and he was not going to hurt her or do anything he'd regret. She wouldn't let him. And she said as much in a blast that made him relinquish his grip on her arm, as she straightened the jacket of her dark blue suit, and picked her handbag and gloves off the changing table where she had left them.

Don't ever do this again, Harcourt. To anyone. But definitely not to me. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. Because if you do, I'll have your wife and your son back in my house so fast your head will spin. You don't deserve to have them here if you're behaving like this. Pull yourself together fast. She looked ominous as she stood in the doorway, still furious at him for the stupid thing he'd done.

His eyes were empty as he looked at Audrey and she could see now that he was slightly drunk, although not very. Not drunk enough to excuse his boorish behavior. She doesn't know how to love anyone. And the truth was that he wasn't sure he knew how either, but he had instinctively sensed that this woman did, that there was more buried in his wife's older sister than anyone would ever know, and it was all wasted, locked up, and probably always would be. She's spoiled and selfish and helpless and you know it. It's your damn fault for treating her like a baby all her life.

Audrey shook her head, loyal to the end. Maybe if you were kinder to her, she'd grow up now.

He shrugged, leaning against the dresser then, staring at his sister-in-law, wondering if she'd tell his wife what he'd done, and he wasn't even sure he cared. Somebody would tell her eventually, and there had been others. He'd been playing that game for a while. He'd been tired of Annie for months. All she ever did was talk about the baby. And she even moved into her own bedroom to protect the baby ' maybe now things would be different ' but he had learned to like the variety in the past few months. Also the intrigue of having little affairs with their friends, or his friends' wives, made life more interesting. He looked at Audrey and something oddly perceptive spoke up in him, something he knew Audrey wouldn't want to hear. You know why she's childish, Aud? Because you made her that way. You did everything for her. Everything. And you still do. She can't even blow her nose by herself. All she does is expect someone else to do everything for her. She wants to be taken care of all the time, because you took care of her all her life and now she expects me to pick up where you left off, and no one can live up to what you've done for her. You're not even human. You're some kind of a machine that runs houses, and orders drapes and hires servants. The words were unkind, but some of them were true. She had babied Annabelle ever since their parents died, and maybe she had done too much for her. She had worried about it herself more than once. But what else was she to do? Let her fend for herself? She couldn't have ' the poor helpless little thing.