All That Glitters

by Danielle Steel

  “I’m so sorry, Coco,” Ed said, reached for her hand, and held it. Just seeing him reminded her of her father, which brought some comfort, although seeing him was bittersweet. Why was he there and her father wasn’t? She still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She had always known that Ed was her trustee, and her mother would have been co-trustee with him, but she had never thought that this moment would come so soon. Her parents were so young. Ed was around fifty, but looked older that afternoon, after the shocking news. Coco looked gray beneath her suntan from the Hamptons. She was shaking as Ed put an arm around her to comfort her. “I’ll do everything I can for you. Let’s get through the funeral, and then we can figure out what you want to do about some of your father’s things.”

  “Like what?” She looked startled and frightened. It was overwhelming.

  “This apartment, the house in the Hamptons. If you want to keep them, or sell them, or live here.” She was twenty-one, so at least she could make her own decisions, but he said he would guide her to make it all easier for her. “Everything goes to you of course, now that your mother…” He didn’t finish the sentence. The estate would have been divided if Bethanie had survived. But Coco was their only heir now, to a very large fortune. It didn’t even dawn on her, and she didn’t care. She wanted them, not the money they had left her.

  “Do you want me to call a doctor for you?” he offered. She shook her head. She didn’t want anyone or anything, except Sam with her. He was the only one who understood how she felt. He always had.

  “No, I’m okay. I think I’m in shock or something.”

  “We all are,” Ed said sympathetically in a hushed tone. “Who could possibly have expected this? The embassy said they’ll get the bodies home late Wednesday night or Thursday morning. When do you want to do the funeral?” He needed to ask her the questions and she tried to focus.

  “I don’t know. When should we do it?” It was helpful having his advice for the practical issues. She had no idea what to do about any of it.

  “Maybe Monday, in case there are any delays,” Ed suggested gently. “There could be a rosary over the weekend, if you’d like that. They could have visitation set up on Friday. Were they religious?” He didn’t think so. He was fairly certain Tom wasn’t, but he didn’t know about Bethanie, or if Coco was.

  “Not really. But they’re both Catholic.” She couldn’t bring herself to speak of them in the past tense. It hurt too much. He nodded. “We only go to church on Christmas.”

  “You can decide what church you want. I’ve already written the obituary,” he said, sounding efficient. She didn’t know how he’d been notified, but someone had called him. His name must have appeared on her father’s papers too.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, and he patted her hand and stood, as the doorman rang again, to tell her Sam was on his way up. He had come back quickly.

  “I’ll call or text you with anything I know,” Ed said and hugged her again, and then she went to let Sam in. Ed smiled at him briefly and then left. Sam watched him go, and turned to her after Ed left.

  “Just out of curiosity. Did he hit on you?” he said, and she looked shocked.

  “Sam! Of course not. That’s disgusting. He’s older than my father. Why would you say something like that?”

  “I don’t know. He just looks the type. He’s so smooth and so slick, and he’s very good-looking.” She had never noticed. He just seemed old to her. And she knew his children were older than she was. They were all married and had children.

  “His kids are older than I am.”

  “I bet his girlfriends aren’t. I’ve read about him on Page Six.”

  “That’s just gossip. He’s married. And his wife is very good-looking.”

  “I don’t know. I just get a funny feeling about him.”

  “Jealous?” she teased him.

  “Hardly. Just protective. I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.” She was alone in the world now, and young and vulnerable, but he didn’t say it to her.

  “He won’t do that. My father trusted him completely.” And she knew her father had been a great judge of character.

  “He trusted him with money. With women I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  “You’re a freak,” she said, and smiled for the first time since six o’clock that morning when the gendarmerie called from France.

  Sam had brought some soup his mother had made for her. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, so he could sleep in his clothes if he needed to. He was not going to leave her alone. He told his parents, and for once, they understood and were sympathetic, and offered to help however they could. But there was nothing they could do either.

  She got a flood of emails and texts from friends that night and didn’t answer them, although she read most of them. Sam made her eat some of his mother’s soup, and Coco finally fell asleep at nine o’clock, lying next to him on her bed. He lay next to her and held her until he fell asleep too. The whole day had been a nightmare, but from this one, no one was going to wake up. It broke Sam’s heart knowing that his best friend was now alone and had no living relatives. It was what Coco had been thinking all day too. She was an orphan now.

  Chapter 2

  Tom’s and Bethanie’s bodies landed in New York at two A.M. on Thursday. The funeral home Ed had chosen picked them up at JFK airport, and had the visitation room set up by that evening. Coco didn’t want them to be cremated. Their bodies had been tortured enough. Ed found out there was a family plot that Tom had bought for his parents and Bethanie’s, and there was more than enough room to bury them there too.

  A rosary was set for six P.M. on Friday, and there would be visitation all weekend, for people to come and pray or meditate, and sign the guestbook. The funeral was set for Monday at noon. Tom’s secretaries had set up a schedule to be there to receive guests and oversee the guestbook. They were expecting a huge crowd at St. Ignatius Loyola Church on Park Avenue, and Ed had selected the ushers from among their business associates, since there was no family. Coco had found a beautiful photograph of her parents on the beach in Southampton looking happy and relaxed, the way she wanted to remember them. She had them put it on the program for the mass. There was another photograph on the back of the program. It was of their wedding day in Las Vegas, and it made her laugh. Ed had called an opera singer he knew to sing the “Ave Maria.” They were having Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” for the recessional, when the caskets were carried out, to be driven to Long Island for burial. Sam had agreed to go with her, and Ed had said he would be there too. His wife was in Italy, and had sent her condolences. Coco knew that she and her parents hadn’t been close.

  She and Sam went to the first day of visitation on Saturday before everyone else. The caskets were closed and Sam said the prayer for the dead in Hebrew next to each of them. He signed the guestbook and then they left and went back to the apartment.

  Coco sat in the front pew in church, between Sam and Ed, feeling like she was having an out of body experience. Their housekeeper, Theresa, had found a black dress of her mother’s that fit her, and a black hat she’d never seen before. Coco couldn’t remember anything about the ceremony and afterward she stood shaking hands with people for what felt like hours and didn’t recognize half of them. Most of them were people her father had known in business. And then at last, they stood in the cemetery, while the caskets were lowered into the ground on ropes, and she sprinkled a handful of earth on each of them, and collapsed sobbing in Sam’s arms. And then it was over. Ed stood very near her, and patted her shoulder repeatedly. She felt as though her body belonged to someone else, and her mind was dead. The only part of her left alive was her heart and it was broken in a million pieces. There had been no preparation for this, no warning, no sign of ill health, or of a storm coming that would claim both of her parents and destroy her life.

  Sam sat with her all that night.
He never left her, and she stayed in bed for several days afterward. Sam stayed at the apartment with her, and Theresa prepared meals for them that Coco didn’t eat. She thought about going back to work, but knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t get her mind clear enough to concentrate on anything, or even think. She called her boss the week after the funeral, and said she just didn’t have it in her to come back to work. He understood and told her again how sorry he was, and to call him when she felt better, whenever that was. She was a bright girl, and he would have liked to have her on the team, and to hire her when she graduated. She promised to call, but didn’t know if she would. She thought it might always be a bad memory for her and a painful association that she had worked there when it happened. Sam had said in a shaking voice that if she had gone with them, she would be dead now. He couldn’t bear thinking about it, and was grateful she had stayed in New York. Her summer job had saved her life.

  Ed came by to see her every day, in the afternoon, and Sam came at night after work, once he’d started working for his father. He spent the nights in the guest room after the first few days. She liked knowing he was there, even if they didn’t talk or she fell asleep, or they sat and stared at the TV. They tried going out to the Hamptons, but somehow it was worse there, and they came back the same day. She kept expecting to see her parents walk toward her on the beach, and felt suffocated when she realized they never would again. It was over. Life as she had known it was over, and changed forever. Trying to get used to it was agony. Trying to accept it was all she thought about now, and she couldn’t.

  She and Sam went for long walks on the weekends, and at night, by the river, when she couldn’t sleep. The nights were hot, and she would stare into the blackness of the water sometimes, thinking about them, and wishing they were back. Every day and every hour was painful. Some days were worse than others. And the nights were endless.

  Sam’s mother continued to send her soup, and she ate a little of it, but nothing else, and she got thinner by the day. By the end of August, she looked worse than she had when it happened. Sam wasn’t surprised but he was dismayed when Coco told him she had decided not to go back to school, and take the semester off.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” He didn’t, but he didn’t want to push her. “What will you do with yourself all day?”

  “Same thing I do now, walk around the apartment and stare at the furniture, or out the window. I just don’t think I could concentrate. I’d flunk out. It’s like my mind is just a bowl of mush. If I went back, I’d fail all my classes.”

  “It might force you to focus. Maybe that would be a good thing,” he suggested cautiously. He didn’t want to upset her. She was in terrible shape.

  “I’ll go back next semester. What difference does it make if I graduate six months later? Who cares?” It didn’t make any difference to anyone now, least of all to her.

  “I care, you care. Just so you finish,” he said, a little firmer with her, and she nodded. He was her only counselor now, and they had both been brought up to believe education was important. It was to their parents, but she no longer had any.

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Your parents would care,” he reminded her.

  “I know. I’ll go back, just not right now.”

  Sam was working at his father’s accounting firm, and not enjoying it. It was boring, and he was worried about her all the time. She wasn’t bouncing back, but maybe that was to be expected. It had been about six weeks since they’d died, which wasn’t long. On Labor Day weekend, they went to the Hamptons again for the day, but they didn’t spend the night this time either. She didn’t want to, so they came home.

  She smiled at him on the way back. “Are you tired of me yet? It must be a drag to play combination nursemaid/psych attendant,” she said sadly.

  “Stop that. I love being with you.” He looked serious as he said it.

  “I’m lousy company,” she said mournfully.

  “Not always.”

  “How is it working for your father?” She was turned inward, and hadn’t asked about anyone else since it happened, not even Sam.

  “Pretty dull. I don’t know how he has made a lifetime of it.” He could be honest with her. “It’s actually depressing.”

  “What would you rather do?”

  “I don’t know. I always said I’d do this, but it’s hard. I don’t think I have much choice. It’s what they expect of me, but I can’t imagine doing this for the rest of my life.”

  “You’re twenty-two. You don’t have to sell your soul forever.”

  “They think I do. It’s good enough for my father, so they think it should be enough for me too. They want me to be an accountant. And my brother isn’t going into the business with him. He’s serious about becoming a rabbi.”

  “What does he know? He’s fourteen. That’s like wanting to be a fireman or a baseball player. He’ll probably outgrow it.”

  “I don’t think so. He studies with the rabbis every day. He loves it. I would shoot myself. That’s even more boring than what I’m doing.” Both his sisters were in college now, so only the two boys were at home. “And my parents are thrilled he’s so religious and scholarly. So we all have our roles to play. Mine is working with my father in his business.”

  “Even if you hate it?” He nodded. “Remember what my mother always said, you don’t have to play by other people’s rules.”

  “You do if they’re your parents and they support you. At least that’s how it works at our house.”

  “You could get another job, Sam,” she said gently. She hated knowing that he was unhappy. He seemed so trapped by what his parents expected of him. It wasn’t fair. He was such a good guy, and he didn’t want to disappoint them. He was giving up all his dreams, which was another thing her mother had said not to do. But Sam didn’t know what his dreams were, only what they weren’t. His dream for the moment was not working at his father’s accounting firm for the rest of his life.

  “What about you? What are you going to do when you finish school?”

  “I don’t know, still journalism, I hope. I wanted to see what magazines are like at Time. But I just couldn’t do it this summer.” In a way, nothing had changed, and everything had. Maybe she wouldn’t work after she graduated. Nothing interested her now, or seemed to matter. But if not, how would she fill her time?

  “You’ll have to graduate, Coco, or the only job you’ll ever be able to get is flipping burgers at McDonald’s.”

  She smiled. “You sound like my father. Actually, that might be fun. I’m going to graduate,” she said to placate him. Sam thought graduating was everything.

  “You have to go back to school to do that.” He was worried about her taking a semester off. It didn’t seem like a good decision to him. But he couldn’t force her. No one could now. She could do whatever she wanted. Ed questioned her about it too when she told him she had taken the semester off.

  “You might feel better if you were busy,” he said carefully.

  “I’m afraid I’ll flunk all my classes if I go back now. I can’t concentrate on anything.” She had never had bad grades, and didn’t want to now.

  “That’ll get better with time,” Ed said on one of his daily visits to her. “Would you like to go out to dinner one of these nights?” he asked her. She hadn’t been out since July, and it was mid-September. She didn’t want to see people. The only friend she’d seen so far was Sam. She hadn’t called any of her girlfriends or returned their calls, so they had stopped calling. She was worried about being a burden to Sam, but he insisted she wasn’t. He had dinner with her at the apartment every night.

  “I’m not very good company,” she said to Ed, who nodded. He was always patient with her, and very kind. He was the only father figure she had now, to advise her and watch over her.

  “I think you need a change of scene. D
octor’s orders.” He smiled at her. “I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night.” She didn’t want to go, but he insisted, and the next day he had his secretary call to say he’d pick her up at seven. She told Sam he had the night off, because she was having dinner with Ed Easton. Sam was surprised, but he thought maybe they had to talk finances, so he didn’t question it or argue with her.

  Ed picked her up right on time. She was wearing a plain black dress, another one of her mother’s, and it hung on her. She was startled when he took her to La Grenouille. She used to go there with her parents for special occasions. It looked so beautiful and so festive that she felt guilty being there, but the meal was delicious. And he was right. It cheered her up being out. They went early, and he had asked for a quiet back table, so everyone didn’t stop and say hello to her on their way into the restaurant. Her parents had loved La Grenouille too. And many of their friends were regulars.

  They talked about lots of different things, and not about her parents or their estate for once. She was smiling when they left the restaurant, and looked more relaxed and young again, despite the dreary dress. The evening had done her good. She had noticed that all the headwaiters knew Ed. He obviously went there a lot. He had a very active social life, which was what landed him on Page Six frequently. He took her home in a cab.

  She was smiling on the way home. “Thank you, that was lovely,” she said, and meant it. He noticed that she looked more like herself again. Her youth and extreme beauty shone through her grief.

  “We’ll do it again,” he promised. He hadn’t wanted to push her before this, but now he could see that she needed to be prodded, to get her out of the house. “I think we should do this a couple of times a week,” he suggested. It sounded like hard work to her, babysitting her the way Sam had been, to get her through her sorrow. “How about Friday? Marielle is going to the house in Connecticut for the weekend, and I have to stay in town.” She and her parents had visited them there. It was an enormous estate.