* * *
Thomas was asleep next to me, shirtless, when I woke to the sound of seagulls squawking outside the window. My mouth was dry and I looked around the room getting my bearings. I reached over to the side table and sipped from a glass of water, moving as little as possible so as not to wake him. His shoulders were tanned and broad, his arms taut with muscles even in sleep. I wanted to run my hand across his wide chest.
The first glimpse of daylight was overtaking the night. It might have been past five o’clock. I reached over to the window and pulled the curtain open just a sliver. I could hear the steady rhythmic pull of the ocean, but a thick fog outside blocked the view. I was in the clouds, in some kind of daze, waking up next to this man and feeling at ease. I wondered briefly if anyone had noticed I was gone; what if someone had told Harry I left the Manor? But those fleeting thoughts were overpowered by a feeling of tranquility. Besides, I’d stayed at the lighthouse two other nights, that very first night after his fall and the night he told me about Charlie, and no one had noticed.
He turned his head toward me and smiled, stretching, then stopping abruptly, reminded of his injuries.
“Sleeping Beauty. How do you feel?”
“Happy,” I said. “With a bit of a champagne headache.”
“I’ll make coffee,” he said, but he didn’t make it very far. Instead we made love again.
We started to drift back to sleep and somehow my eyes, my mouth, my heart, were all smiling. I wanted to stay in his bed, in his arms, forever.
“I feel as though I’ve known you for a long time,” I said.
“I know.” He kissed me. “Me too.”
Nothing else mattered at that moment; everything else in my life felt like a distant memory, as if we were totally untouchable on top of Turtle Hill. No one knew we were there, limbs draped over limbs, my cheek on his chest, his fingers gently tracing the freckles on my shoulders. I must have started to dream, because we were on the cliffs, a section I hadn’t seen before. The sun was beaming down on us, but the ocean breeze kept us cool, my skin prickling at the inevitable wind and Thomas pulling me into his body, keeping me warm. I was wearing a flimsy summer dress, not much more than a sheath of thin fabric skimming my body. I snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine under the covers, half-dreaming. The dress was something I could never wear in public, partially sheer, but on that hill there were no rules. I half-opened my eyes and sighed a contented sigh, catching a glimpse of my pale blue gown from the night before, folded neatly on the chair by the bedroom door.
There was nothing pressing I had to attend that morning, so I could slip into the Manor and nothing would look out of place. I could sneak in the back door or even right through the front door as long as it was a decent hour. And then I sat up quickly.
“What is it?” Thomas said with a start.
“What am I going to wear? I can’t wear my gown back to the Manor! What if someone sees me? They’ll know I’ve been out all night.” I fixed my eyes on my dress by the door.
Thomas went to his chest of drawers and found some long johns and held them up. “This is probably the only thing I have that might work.” He pulled a belt out of his closet. “And this,” he said. “It’s early enough that I could probably manage to drive the truck now and drop you at the back of the Manor. I’m not on duty until eight o’clock. Do you think anyone will see you if you go in through the service door?”
“There’s a good chance I could make it without being seen, but I can’t wear that,” I said, suddenly feeling scared, not sure which was worse, showing up in a formal gown or a man’s clothing at the crack of dawn. “If I wait any longer they’ll all be coming down for breakfast. Can you manage the clutch, though?”
“I think so. I’m starting to feel stronger now; it’s those damn stairs that get me.”
I slipped back into the gown and put the button-down shirt over it to keep me warm; then we rushed about and I grabbed my jewelry and shoes. Thomas, still limping slightly, went downstairs to get the keys for the truck and the garage.
“Tell you what,” he said, “make a beeline for the pathway and I’ll meet you at the bottom of the hill; we don’t want to risk you running into Milton by the garage.”
At the bottom of the hill I sat on the grass feeling disappointed. The magic of that morning was quickly dissipating; thoughts of the Manor and people I might see on my dash up to my room weighed me down. I wanted so much to stay in the haze of happiness that I’d felt when I awoke next to Thomas. I longed to stay in his bed, to watch the fog as it started to burn off the cliff tops, to see the seagulls dance in the sky, circling, to see Thomas dress in his uniform, but I knew that if I didn’t leave now it would be too late.
He drove the truck toward the Manor in silence, then reached over and took my hand. “Are you okay, love?” he asked.
I nodded. “I wanted to stay.” How fast things had moved from feeling intense pleasure, uninhibited, to feeling tense, fearful and anxious. In one moment I felt grateful for finding beautiful Montauk, which had led me to meet Thomas, and in the next I felt a pang of anger toward the Manor, all the people there I was afraid of seeing and Harry—the fact that he would be there in five days. It was unreasonable, I knew that, but these emotions rose up in me alternating between delirious happiness and fitful agitation. Here I was spending the summer in this beautiful place, essentially alone and free, yet imprisoned by the women, the gossip, the eyes constantly on me. Harry, though, could do whatever he wanted back in the city in broad daylight, at the well-frequented restaurants, even at the Manor apparently, and no one would bat an eye; no one would care. As a man you could get away with murder.
Thomas squeezed my hand. “Come back tonight if you can,” he said. “If you can make it to the bottom of Manor Hill I can pick you up from there.” I nodded. “Nine o’clock then,” he said, and he pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it.
I made it all the way up to my floor without being seen, but as I was putting my room key in the lock a porter from the Manor walked past. “Good morning, Mrs. Bordeaux,” he said as he passed, his eyes resting just a moment too long on my gown.
“Good morning,” I said, head down, not looking his way, clutching my jewelry and shoes tighter to my chest. I opened the door and went inside, taking one quick glance at him as he walked down the hallway. As I did he turned and looked and I quickly shut the door.
24
“Well, you sure look chipper today, Beatrice,” Dolly said, peering over her newspaper. She was sipping coffee and smoking. I was dying to tell her everything, but I couldn’t. For the past few days, I’d felt elated and it took everything I had just to wipe that look off my face before I faced the rest of the Manor in the mornings.
“I feel chipper,” I said. My whole body felt alive, as if Thomas’s touch had sparked the ignition and energized everything about me. I loved being in on a secret that no one knew, but when I saw Dolly I wanted to confess.
“Did Harry come out and you two manage a wild night?”
“Ha, no,” I said flatly. “He stayed in the city again, for the whole weekend.”
“Oh, I thought I didn’t see you two at the golf tournament,” she said. “You should have told me; I would have invited you to dine with us.”
“It’s okay; I just relaxed.” I ordered a hot tea and some buttered toast. “Oh, and thanks for your support at the planning party. What a hoot that they thought they could spend all that money however they pleased. I’ll probably be shunned by Jeanie now, though.”
“You were right to stand up to her,” Dolly said, her head in the newspaper. “Well, would you look at this.” She turned the paper toward me. “Looks like the mothers out here have caused a bit of a stink.” She laughed.
“Really?” I reached over to grab the paper from her, but she pulled it back toward her and read out loud, “‘Diaper Explosion Reveals Montauk Visitors’ Filthy Side.’”
I gasped at the title. I was goi
ng to be in even more trouble if anyone found out I’d penned this.
“I suppose Montauk is getting more and more popular if they are now sending city reporters to cover the goings-on out here; first they did the pig contest and now this!”
“Very fancy,” I said, trying to suppress my grin. “Can I see it?” I tried to glance over the page. “Do you mind if I take a peek, Dolly?”
She was almost talking to herself and then seemed to move on to the next article. I couldn’t sit still. I had to see it for myself, the second time my words had been in print, to see how it had been edited. Finally, I couldn’t take the anticipation anymore and I got up to leave.
“Excuse me, Dolly, I’m heading to the ladies; then I have a few things to do,” I said. “We’ll catch up later.”
“Bye for now,” she said, barely looking up. I dashed out of the dining room to find my own copy.
* * *
After I read it I took out a piece of paper and began to write about the masquerade planning party, how it had been almost as glamorous an affair as the upcoming ball. I started with sparkle, writing of some darling headpieces, the extra long strands of pearls, the abandonment of gloves by most on that balmy evening and the standout gold sequin-embellished dress that Mary’s guest from Hollywood wore with an open keyhole neckline and two daring front slits that revealed much of her tanned and toned legs—and for an all-women event no less. But then I segued into the main topic of the night, the funds and how the majority ruled that they’d be donated to the Montauk School. There was one way to ensure that Jeanie wouldn’t back out of her agreement to dedicate the funds to the school, and that was to put it in print.
* * *
That night Thomas was waiting for me at the bottom of Manor Hill with the engine and the lights turned off. I looked around and climbed in, my heart beating fast.
“Go quickly before anyone sees us,” I said.
“Not before I get a real hello.”
I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come on,” I said excitedly. “Let’s go.” He started the engine. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking all at once. I just wanted to be in the safety of his house.
When we’d first met he’d been reserved, stoic, the kind of man who’d never show his true feelings, but now he trusted me with his emotions and the expression on his face told me that I’d made his day just by showing up.
As soon as we stepped through his front door I turned and kissed him properly. It was as if I’d never been kissed before. I had believed that Harry and I had been in love and passionate when we were first married, but it was hard to remember that; it seemed like someone else’s life, someone else’s story. Thomas’s was the only kiss I could recall now, his embrace the only one I could feel.
He put his hands around my waist and pulled me into him. “Stay with me tonight,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“I’ll take you back early; I promise.”
“It would have to be really early,” I said, hesitating. “Harry might be coming out tomorrow on the early train, just for the day.”
He straightened up and one hand dropped from my waist, then the other. “Midweek?”
“I’m not sure; he said maybe this week, maybe next. Some investment business.”
He nodded, his face suddenly serious. “He’s investing here?” he said, looking disgusted.
“He’s looking into it. With some others, not just him.”
He walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. “We need to talk about that at some point.”
“About what?” I approached, touching his arm.
“You’re married,” he said. “Let’s not forget that.”
I poured myself a dram and knocked it back. He moved to the window and looked out, wiping some dust off the sill.
“Harry and I have an uncertain, difficult marriage,” I said. He didn’t turn around. “He’s not in love with me anymore, and I’m not in love with him.” He kept his back to me. “We are in a strange societal predicament in which, he has told me, and I am aware, it is all but impossible to get a divorce. I would be ruined, financially and socially. And now I’m stuck.” I waited for some kind of response, but Thomas continued to look out the window. “And I had just sort of accepted that fact, even when I found out about the other women; that was, until now.”
Finally, he turned. “So what does that mean?”
“Just that I thought he and I, the whole imprisonment, was my fate, a result of the choices I’d made and therefore the bed I must lie in, but knowing you, kissing you”—I walked up behind him and put my arms around him—“being with you. It has changed everything in me. I know I can’t escape the marriage and him, but I’m no longer filled with despair; I feel filled with hope and excitement and love.…” I paused. Maybe I’d gone too far. What was the point in saying all this, really? “I’m just happy when I’m with you.”
“And I am with you, but it doesn’t make it right,” he said. “And it doesn’t mean anything’s going to change.” There was no good answer and no resolution, so I took his hands and looked up at him, asking that we just leave it for now, that we just enjoy what we had at that very moment, if nothing else.
“Show me something I’ve never seen before.”
“You’ve seen it all,” he said. I sighed. “You have—the light, the oil room, the house, the basement.”
“I know there’s something I haven’t seen yet.”
“Come with me,” he said after a moment, taking my hand and leading me out of the living room, out the front door into the dark.
“Where are we going?” I asked, excited by the hope that we could turn things around.
“I want to show you the stars.”
* * *
We lay on our backs on the grass. The sky was incredibly black and the stars were glowing.
“Can you imagine what it would be like to fly?” I said. “Like Lindbergh or Wrong Way Corrigan. I would be terrified, but it would be such a thrill. But how daunting to lose all sense of direction and end up in Ireland instead of California,” I said. “Twenty-eight hours it took him; he would have been right up there with the stars at some point.”
“He did that on purpose, Bea. He was Irish. He’d been trying to get permission to fly across the Atlantic to Dublin for months and they kept turning him down because his plane was a piece of junk he bought off a trash heap and they thought it was a suicide flight.”
“Really? You truly believe Wrong Way Corrigan went the wrong way on purpose?”
“Of course; that man knew exactly what he was doing when he took off. He turned that plane around as soon as he got up in the sky. That was a bunch of baloney about the compass malfunctioning; he just wanted to be famous in his hometown.”
I thought about that, what it would feel like to do something so astounding that no one ever thought you’d be capable of it. “He’ll be remembered forever now.”
“And I’m sure he’ll take full advantage of his fame.” Thomas laughed.
“I wish I had it in me to do something remarkable.”
“You are remarkable.”
“No.” I laughed. “But to be a Hollywood movie star like Katharine Hepburn or Hedy Lamarr, or Bette Davis, where you’d be remembered.”
“You don’t really care about all that, do you?”
“Care about it?” I pushed myself up onto one elbow. “Who doesn’t? How glamorous it would be to be a movie star, and your children and your children’s children would see you in the films long after you were gone. Oh, come on; you wouldn’t want to be Cary Grant if you had the chance?”
“You’re already glamorous,” he said, grabbing my chin in his hand and pulling me in for a kiss. “You, you’re like a movie star who’s walked onto the wrong set and into my life.”
I laughed. “Well, I’d like to do something important, something meaningful, some unattainable thing. Would you want to build a plane? Fly across the Atlantic like Corrigan? Come on; what’
s your greatest dream?” I asked, looking over to him.
“I don’t know.” He kept looking up to the stars. “I’d like to be a proper father to my son. I dream about him a lot, you know.”
I nodded and put my hand on his chest.
“I dream about him as a baby and a toddler mostly.”
“You miss him.”
“I should have fought harder in those early years; I shouldn’t have just kept sending them money and let her keep him from me. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing, but now I regret it. Every day I regret it.”
“But you’re getting closer now.” I brushed the hair back from his forehead. “You said he’s showing more interest now that he’s growing up.” It pained me to see his hurt and regrets. I wanted to take it all away somehow.
“But, if I could do anything, make a wish come true,” he said, turning to look at me, “I’d do it again. But I’d get it right this time. Love, companionship, a family. With you.”
I felt my heart grow bigger in my chest just to hear him say it, a warmth, a truth, a feeling I’d never experienced before, but then he laughed as if it were a joke. He looked away and shook his head.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t say something like that, then laugh like you didn’t mean it.”
“You asked me what my long shot dream was. It’s too late for me now anyway, but if I really could do anything and do it well, it would be that. To start all over again with you.”
I wanted to make it true. I wanted to be free from everything I’d ever known so I could be with him.
“Do you see that over there?” He pointed down along the cliffs, toward town. “That little outline of a house?”
I nodded.
“You can’t see much now, but that little yellow cottage is for sale. One day I’m going to buy that house. You and me, we could live there and you’d never have to go back to Manhattan again. You could just stay with me out here forever.”
Montauk Page 25