by June Tate
‘Dad, come and meet your daughter-in-law. This is my Gracie.’
Ben Rider was tall, broad and powerfully built, dressed in jeans and a heavy short coat. He removed the woollen hat from his head, walked over to Gracie and shook her hand. His grip was hard and firm.
‘Well, howdy Gracie. Welcome to Barton. I hope you’ll be very happy here. You’ve had a long journey, you must be weary.’
‘We stopped over in Denver last night, so we did have a rest.’
‘Very wise,’ He turned to his son. ‘You alright boy?’
‘Yes thanks, Dad. I took Gracie around the town, I borrowed your car.’
‘That’s fine, use it whenever you like, I’ve got my truck, so I only use it at weekends sometime.’
‘Where do you work, Mr Rider?’ asked Gracie.
‘I’m working on a construction site,’ he told her. ‘We’re building new apartments on the other side of town. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see my wife.’ He left them and wandered into the kitchen.
Gracie could hear voices as husband and wife talked. She couldn’t distinguish the words, but Mrs Rider sounded angry. Then Ben returned with two cans of beer and passed one to Jeff.
The two men sat and chatted and Gracie listened. She was thankful that they seemed on good terms after seeing Jeff with his brother. She liked her father-in-law. He had seemed friendly enough.
At suppertime, they all sat round the table and Velda served the food. There was a large meat loaf, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob and green beans. It was delicious and Gracie said so.
‘This is so tasty. I haven’t had these kind of potatoes before, they’re so different and I really like them.’
For once Velda seemed pleased. ‘I take pride in my cooking,’ she said, ‘men need a good meal in their belly after a hard day’s work.’
Rick looked up. ‘You’ll have to cook us an English meal one night, Gracie, so we can see what that’s like.’
Gracie was about to say how much she’d like to do that until she saw the look of anger on Velda’s face. ‘We’ll have to see what your mother thinks, after all it’s her kitchen.’
Velda remained silent so no more was said.
Later that night, when they were in bed, Jeff reached for her but Gracie caught hold of his hand on her breast. ‘Your parents are in the next room,’ she said.
‘They are going to be in the next room every night,’ he said, ‘what difference does that make?’
‘Oh Jeff, I don’t know but somehow I can’t relax knowing there is only a thin wall between us.’
‘Now listen, honey. We will be living here for a while and you’ll have to get used to the idea. After all, we are married and married people have sex!’
She knew he was right, but somehow the thought of seeing Velda in the morning, and her knowing they had made love, was enough to make her tense.
She snuggled into her husband. ‘You just have to give me a bit of time to get used to all this, that’s all. Anyway I’m too tired tonight.’
He chuckled. ‘Don’t you start having headaches on me.’
‘No I won’t,’ she promised, ‘but just not tonight.’
‘I guess I can hold out for twenty-four hours, but we have a lot of catching up to do Gracie. We’ve been apart for too long and I have ached to hold you in my arms.’
From the tone of his voice, she knew he wouldn’t accept her reluctance again. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her thoughts were jumbled. She was going to live in a house where she wasn’t really welcome by Jeff’s mother and Jeff and his brother were obviously at loggerheads. It didn’t bode well for the immediate future. Eventually she fell asleep from exhaustion.
Chapter Five
Whilst Gracie Rider was trying to sort out her difficulties, Valerie Johnson was enjoying her new surroundings. Ross had arranged for a cleaner to come in twice a week, which left Valerie free from too many household duties and, as Ross had taken a few days off to be with her, she enjoyed being taken around New York. They went to Radio City to see a movie and watch the Rockettes, a group of dancers whose precision was a joy to watch when they performed in the interval. They had been out to dinner, skated on the outside ice rink at Rockefeller Center and been shopping at Saks, Fifth Avenue. It had been a whirlwind and she’d enjoyed it tremendously.
Near by the apartment were intriguing small shops. A delicatessen, which sold a vast selection of fresh food as well as pasta, cheeses, olives, nuts and many varieties of unusual ingredients, long gone from the shelves of British shops due to the shortages of the war. Alongside, a shop selling fruit and vegetables, a grocery store, a dry-cleaners and drugstore. Everything that she would need without having to travel far. She was delighted.
Eventually Ross returned to his desk and Valerie planned to explore, but a call from her sister-in-law, Bonny, with an invitation to go shopping and out to lunch, delayed her plans. She’d liked Bonny when they met at her welcome party and looked forward to seeing her again.
The two girls had a great time shopping in Bloomingdale’s then went for lunch in an Italian restaurant that Bonny recommended. After they’d ordered and the wine had been poured, Bonny looked at Valerie and raised her glass.
‘Here’s to a new friendship,’ she said.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ Valerie replied and they clinked glasses. ‘How long have you and Earl been married?’ she asked.
‘Three years, long enough to know how the land lies in his family.’
‘Oh dear, what does that mean?’
‘It means that Gloria thinks everyone should do her bidding. That whatever she says is right. She tries to rule everyone!’ There was a flash of anger in the other woman’s eyes.
‘But she doesn’t rule you, I imagine?’
‘Damned right!’ Bonny leant closer. ‘Don’t you let her rule you either.’
Valerie leant back in her seat. ‘I’ve met her type many times over the years and I am certainly not frightened by my new mother-in-law, I can assure you.’
Bonny laughed with delight. ‘I just knew you were a strong woman when we first met, but I have to warn you that she and Laura are joined at the hip and they will do their damnedest to destroy your marriage. Trust me!’
‘I’m not sure how much notice Ross takes of his mother but I got the impression he is very much his own man. I do hope I’ve not been wrong about him.’
‘No, you haven’t,’ Bonny assured her. ‘Ross has always stood on his own feet but, of course, he works in Leo’s firm so, in many ways, he’s kind of tied up with the family even more.’
Remembering her conversation with her husband and the changes he would like to make in the firm, Valerie wondered if Ross would tolerate the restrictions his father still insisted on. It was an interesting thought. If Ross branched out on his own, he could run the business the way he wanted and loosen the ties with the family. It was worth considering, she thought, but she kept it to herself.
That evening, as they sat down to dinner, Valerie told her husband about her day out with Bonny. ‘We had a great time,’ she said. ‘I really like her, she’s a bundle of fun.’
‘Yes, she’s good for Earl,’ he told her. ‘My brother was under my mother’s thumb until Bonny came along. She made a man out of him.’
‘What about you, darling? How much of a hold does Gloria have over you?’
Laughing he said, ‘Not nearly as much as she’d like! My mother loves to control people, but she doesn’t control me and never has.’
‘I’m happy to hear it. How did today go in the office?’
Ross frowned. ‘Fine, I suppose. As far as my clients are concerned I work my own way but the business wants updating. Dad hasn’t moved with the times. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good lawyer but the firm could make much more money, if he would only listen to me.’
‘Have you ever thought of moving out and opening your own firm?’ Valerie asked casually.
He looked at her in surprise. ‘As a matter
of fact, I have, ever since I came out of the army. I feel stifled.’
‘Then I think you should think seriously about it, Ross. There’s nothing worse than being unhappy in the workplace. It’s unhealthy for one thing!’
He gazed fondly at her. ‘I do love you. You and I think so much alike and that is so comforting.’
Valerie, pleased at the compliment, smiled. ‘We should start looking for office space. If you want to branch out on your own, it would be better sooner than later.’
During the weeks that followed, Valerie took herself off on a journey of discovery around the city. She loved the vibrancy of it, the eclectic feel to the place, but she knew that eventually she would have time on her hands and had no idea how she was going to fill her days.
She wandered into a small café, took off her scarf and gloves then ordered a coffee and sat looking at a guidebook of the city, marking out further places to visit. She decided to sample the cheesecake and ordered.
A young man sitting at the next table leant over. ‘You are English if I’m not mistaken?’
She looked up. He was neatly dressed in a grey polo-neck jumper and trousers, with an interesting face and green eyes that twinkled at her. ‘Yes I am. The accent gives me away every time.’
With a smile he said, ‘Don’t ever lose it. To hear English spoken well by an English person is delightful to listen to. We have a common language, which sadly we Americans crucify!’
She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I have noticed, but we are different people in a different country.’
He looked at the guidebook. ‘Are you just visiting?’
‘No. I’ve just moved here to be with my husband. We met in England during the war.’
‘So, you are a GI bride?’
She nodded. ‘That’s right, there are quite a few of us, I’m afraid. I’m just exploring the city, trying to familiarise myself with it.’
‘What sort of things interest you?’
‘Art galleries, museums, I love to read and discovering all that is different here in New York. Believe me, after the restrictions in my country due to the war, the shops are pure joy to a woman!’
‘Have you been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art?’ the stranger asked.
‘Not yet, it’s on my list though.’
‘It’s one of my favourite places,’ he told her. ‘Look, I’m free today. Let me take you there. It’s the least I can do for a person who is learning about the city. What do you say?’
Valerie was surprised by his invitation, but he seemed a decent type and she was feeling alone in a strange place. ‘Yes that would be really kind of you,’ she replied.
‘I hope you’re wearing comfortable shoes, it’s a big place.’
She laughed. ‘Oh, believe me, I’m well prepared. Exploration and heels don’t mix, that I know. In any case, I’m wearing boots.’
He leant forward with an outstretched hand. ‘Max Brennen.’
She took his hand and shook it. ‘Valerie Johnson.’
The museum was a large imposing building. Inside the entrance there was a huge hall with a grand staircase. Here was a plan of the interior and the rooms showing paintings from all over the world. Valerie was thrilled. They started on the European artists then went on to look at the Dutch painters. They sat on a bench looking at a painting by Rembrandt. She was surprised at how knowledgeable Max was but when she questioned him about it he just grinned.
‘In my youth I went to art school. I wanted to be another Goya or Constable, but I wasn’t really good enough, so now I work in advertising for my sins.’
‘Oh that’s so sad. Do you still paint?’
‘Oh yes, painting is my life!’
Several hours later, they parted. Valerie thanked him profusely for his time and company. He took out a business card and gave it to her.
‘Call me sometime when you’re at a loose end in your explorations and maybe I can show you something else. I’ve really enjoyed today. Seeing things through different eyes is always exhilarating.’ He shook her hand again. ‘I’ve really enjoyed your company Valerie, I hope we meet again,’ and he walked away.
She watched his retreating figure. He was tall and held himself well as he strode down the street, winding a long scarf round his neck. She had so enjoyed the day but wondered if Ross would be angry that she’d gone off with a stranger, not the safest thing to do anywhere. She decided not to mention it and put the business card in her wallet, called a cab and went home to rest her aching feet.
Two weeks later, over breakfast, Ross told her that he’d booked a table for dinner that evening and after they’d be going to an exhibition of local artists.
‘I know how much you enjoy art,’ he said. ‘These evenings are always interesting. I’ve been to several and I have been known to buy the odd picture sometimes.’
‘Really? Where are they?’ she asked knowing there were none in the apartment.
‘I have them on the walls in my office,’ he said.
‘We could do with something in the living room,’ she said. ‘The walls look a bit bare. I’ve looked at prints in the stores but haven’t seen anything I like.’
‘Perhaps we’ll see something tonight.’ He kissed her and said, ‘I’ll be home just after five.’
The art gallery was in the Village, so they dined nearby in a French restaurant before making their way there. It was well lit with the walls covered with paintings and a label beneath each one, giving the title of the picture, the artist and the price.
They’d left their coats with a young girl when they entered who’d also handed them a glass of champagne, and now the two of them were studying the works before them, mingling with many others, doing the same. It was fascinating seeing the different styles, but the talent that was on the wall impressed Valerie. But it was one sizeable painting in particular that took her eye. It was of a small bridge in Central Park at dusk, with the skyscrapers in the background. What impressed her was the use of light in the painting. It was remarkable and she stared at it for a long time.
Ross, who had been looking at another, joined her.
‘This painting is absolutely beautiful,’ she said, ‘just look at the light, look at the buildings, some have lights in their windows, others have not, but see here,’ she pointed to the bridge and the greenery behind it. ‘You know almost what time of day it is by the colour of the sky. I love it!’
‘You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear you say that.’ The voice behind them made them turn.
Valerie turned and looked into the eyes of Max Brennen. She was so surprised she was speechless.
It was Ross who spoke. ‘Are you the artist?’
‘I am.’ He looked at Valerie and smiled but didn’t say a word.
‘My wife loves this picture,’ Ross said, ‘she’s looking for something to hang in our living room and I’d like to buy it for her.’
‘Oh Ross! Really? Oh thank you, darling, I’m really thrilled.’ She looked at Max. ‘This is remarkable, the way you’ve caught the light. It’s so atmospheric.’
‘I’m so glad you like it,’ he said, ‘but would you mind if we kept it in the gallery until the show closes in a week’s time?’
‘Of course not! Everyone should see it.’
‘Where do I pay?’ asked Ross.
Max pointed out a desk on the far side of the room and when he and Valerie were alone he said, ‘How lovely to see you again.’
‘Well, I can’t tell you what a surprise it is to see you and your work. Max, this painting is exceptional! Why on earth are you working in advertising?’
‘To pay the bills. I do display my work at events such as these, but it’s not enough to live the way I like. Simple really.’
Ross returned at that moment, which stopped any further conversation. Max shook his hand.
‘Thank you, sir, if you give me your address and phone number, when the gallery closes, I can arrange to deliver the painting to you.’
Ross handed
him his business card. ‘I’m at the office all day but Mrs Johnson will be at home. Perhaps you could hang it for us at the same time?’
‘It would be my pleasure. Goodnight Mrs Johnson. I’ll see you in about a week’s time.’ He didn’t take his gaze from her whilst he spoke.
Valerie felt a sudden frisson as she looked back at him. ‘I look forward to it. I can’t wait to see your work hanging on my wall.’
Max left them to speak to other guests and, shortly after, they left the gallery.
‘Nice man,’ Ross remarked as they sat in the cab taking them home.
‘Yes, and very talented,’ she replied, but she couldn’t help a feeling of guilt creeping into her thoughts. Why on earth hadn’t she told Ross that she and Max had met before? After all, it wasn’t as if they’d done anything wrong. Now she felt as if she’d just left her secret lover and nothing could be further from the truth – and if she told Ross now, it would seem very suspicious.
However, when they arrived home, she walked into the living room and stared at the large blank wall in front of her, thrilled that soon she would have Max’s painting hanging there.
Chapter Six
Gracie was becoming more than irritated with her mother-in-law. Once Jeff had returned to work, Gracie had made a great effort to get along with Velda and had asked how she could be of help in the house. The other woman had her cleaning the bathroom and toilet, polishing the furniture and scrubbing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees. This Gracie hadn’t minded until one morning, when she’d gone out to do the shopping, she returned to see Velda cleaning the kitchen floor with a mop and bucket. She was enraged.
‘Oh I see! That’s how you clean the kitchen floor, but when it comes to me, I have to get down and scrub it!’
Velda blushed and looked uncomfortable, not knowing what to say. But Gracie was not lost for words at all.
‘I have tried my very best to please you since I arrived. I know you resent me, well I can’t help that, but I will not be used as a skivvy just to satisfy your jealousy.’