Interior Designs

by Pamela Browning

  They'd left the draperies open, and for several minutes they quietly watched the moonlight shimmering on the wide water as they enjoyed each other's company.

  "When will you know if Selby can come?" she asked after a while.

  "I'm not sure. It's hard, not knowing if her visit will work out. But it's important for me to have her here." Drew spoke so vehemently that Cathryn sensed more than a father missing his child.

  "Why?"

  He was silent for such a long time that Cathryn feared he wasn't going to answer. When he spoke, it was slowly and thoughtfully as if he'd framed his reply with great care.

  "I was raised by people who were paid to do it. I want better than that for my daughter, and when she's with me, I won't leave her upbringing to someone who doesn't love her. If Selby comes, it will change my life, Cathryn. I won't be able to work as hard. I'll spend most of my time at home with her."

  She couldn't imagine Drew that way. No longer the hard-hitting, high-powered executive? Take his work away and what would he be? Who would he be?

  "You look surprised." His eyes were on her, assessing.

  "I am, in a way. You and your work—you are your work, Drew. I can't imagine you idle." All that pent-up energy that he channeled into the stores—what would happen to it?

  He laughed. "Idle? Raising a child leaves one anything but idle, Cathryn."

  Flustered, she said, "Oh, I know. But you understand what I mean."

  His face became solemn. "I guess I do. My father was a workaholic, too, you know. The difference is that he slaved in that dreary store on Clematis Street year after year to earn a living for us. My mother worked with him. They hired babysitters to take care of me. Well, that store was the basis of my empire, and I'm not ungrateful. But I was lonely, and the sitters never stayed more than a couple of years at most. I hardly knew my parents. I'd hate Selby to feel that I'm a stranger."

  "I see," said Cathryn, because she did.

  "And so that's why I work so hard now. Because I need to get ahead while I can. I drive myself to become as secure as possible so that when Selby is here, I can afford the time off."

  "What will you do then?"

  "Let other people run the stores for me. Arrange my office hours differently. There are all sorts of things I could try."

  Quickly Cathryn related Joseph Miles's phone call and the offer of Designers International to buy her business.

  He listened carefully. "Would you ever take them up on it? Ever consider selling?"

  "Sell? After all the hours I've put into it? Drew, I've put more than just hours into Cathryn Mulqueen Interiors. I've put in blood, sweat, and tears."

  "Why, Cathryn? Why do you do it? I've told you what inspires me and spears me on, but what about you?"

  "I love my work. It's the reason behind my ambition, the only reason, and one that most people don't understand."

  Drew pulled her head onto his shoulder with a gentle hand. "I do," he said. "It's the way I was at first with the stores. Loving every minute, every problem, every solution."

  "Feeling good about yourself because you're accomplishing something," she said dreamily, in tune with his thoughts.

  "I was going to work and work, build something big, then sell the whole kit and kaboodle for a fortune and take the rest of my life off," he said reminiscently. "I thought Talma understood about the sacrifices. We were going to travel all over the world together, live anywhere we pleased because we'd be rich. Well, she decided not to stick it out. While I was out working myself to a frazzle, she found someone else."

  "Oh, Drew, I—"

  "Hush," he said softly, drawing her head back down to his shoulder. "If it hadn't worked out that way, I never would have known you."

  "Which would have been too bad," she whispered against the graceful curve of his neck.

  His finger beneath her chin lifted her head so that her eyes met his. His eyes sparkled at her across the space between them, and as his lips met hers, closing the space, she let herself relax in his arms.

  "Too bad, indeed," he said against her lips. And then they didn't speak again for a long, long time.

  * * *

  Out on the bright, sun-kissed water, the skier sliced across the wake of the speedboat, sending a high, glittering plume of spray into the air.

  Cathryn, arms clasped around her upraised knees, sat with Judy on a bench beneath a tall pine on the shore of Lake Osborne. The breeze from the lake sighed through the needles above them, creating an illusion of an oasis of calm at the party. Today was Judy and Ron's tenth wedding anniversary, and they were celebrating it with a gathering of friends for beer, barbecue, and water skiing on a Sunday afternoon. Drew was the water skier, and it was abundantly clear that he was skilled at the sport.

  "Does Drew do everything as well as he skis?" asked Judy, crinkling her nose so that the freckles all ran together, and Cathryn sent her a sideways glance.

  "Yes," she said, and the two of them laughed, still cohorts in a closed society. Then Cathryn became thoughtful and more than a little serious. "Drew plays hard and he works hard. He's a lot like me in that respect."

  Judy produced a noise that, in anyone else, would have been described as a snort. "I hope that in Drew you've met your equal."

  "I think I have. It's not at all unusual for him to start his day at dawn and be at his office by eight o'clock. Then he works straight through until seven or eight at night."

  Judy grinned. Cathryn's seriousness struck her as ironic. "Cathryn, you of all people should understand that kind of schedule. It's a wonder you even find time to see each other."

  "I do understand, and sometimes it's harder than we'd like to mesh our plans. You know, I think Drew works long hours to keep his mind off his daughter. He misses her so much, Judy."

  Judy craned her neck, searching for a sign of her own daughter in the group of children who were thrashing through the gaudy croton bushes looking for chameleons.

  "I'd miss Amanda if we were apart," Judy said. "It's only natural."

  "I suppose so. But with a man, I thought it would be different."

  "That's where I think men have always taken a bum rap," said Judy. "Everyone assumes that when there's a divorce, it's easy for the man to be parted from his children. Easier than for the mother, anyway. I don't think it's true."

  "Well, Drew certainly thinks the world of Selby. I'm glad, Judy. I'm glad he's not the type to walk away from the responsibility of a child. Selby is more than just a souvenir of his marriage."

  "It does speak well of him," agreed Judy, shooting Cathryn a keen glance. The change in her friend was marked. She'd never seen Cathryn looking so satisfied, so relaxed, or so happy. But wisely, she didn't comment on her friend's new look.

  Cathryn's eyes tracked Drew across the bright water. She couldn't watch him without thrilling to the way the muscles in his broad back rippled in the sun, without wanting to curve her fingers around the nape of his neck where they fit so perfectly. But this was not the time for that, she reminded herself. Here she would have to share him with everyone else until later. A hint of anticipation arose somewhere inside her. She could hardly wait until later.

  The cookout rocked along at full speed. Judy and Ron's home, a big pool-and-patio house on the lake, was well suited to such gatherings, and Judy liked to entertain. Ron was a gregarious and popular land developer who had recently won a seat on the county council. Guests of all ages were queuing up for water skiing, pitching horseshoes, and devouring hot dogs and hamburgers by the score.

  "Whew!" Ron said, appearing from somewhere in the vicinity of the charcoal grill and wiping his forehead. "I think I need to sit down for a breather."

  Cathryn and Judy edged over, making room for Ron on the bench. Cathryn liked Ron almost as much as she liked Judy. With his wiry brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses, he wasn't handsome in the classic sense, but he was the kind of person who was unfailingly pleasant and cheerful. Judy had married Ron soon after graduation from Florida State
and, in Cathryn's opinion, she'd made a good choice. Their marriage was stable, with a good deal of affection and caring, and they had been blessed with Amanda, a treasure if there ever was one.

  "I think I'd better see how things are going in the kitchen. We seem to be doing a bang-up business in potato salad." Judy got up to leave, but Ron caught her arm.

  "I know you like parties, honey," he said. "But on our next anniversary, I think we should throw our own party, just the two of us at some faraway resort with an exotic name and a private Jacuzzi."

  Judy patted her husband on the arm. "Very good idea. Remind me of it when the time comes, okay?" She bustled away toward the kitchen, in her element as a hostess.

  "So," said Ron, leaning back and reveling in the cool breeze from the lake. "Judy tells me that you and Drew are hitting it off."

  "Something tells me that we're in for one of our little chats," she said, smiling. Ever since their days at Florida State, when Ron had started dating Judy and had fairly swept her off her feet, he'd appointed himself Cathryn's unofficial big brother.

  "We're long overdue for a little chat, as you put it," Ron told her. "Do you realize you haven't seen either Amanda or me for months?"

  "You know how it is," she said. "I've had a lot to do."

  "Still, it seems like the only time we see you anymore is when Judy shows us your picture in some highfalutin' decorating magazine."

  Cathryn laughed. "Come on, Ron. It's not that bad. Anyway, I've been seeing a lot of Drew, so it's not as though I've become a total hermit."

  "Yes, and I'm glad you two found each other. Drew is a nice guy. He got a rotten deal from his ex-wife, and he deserves some happiness for a change."

  "Don't go getting any ideas that Drew and I might be a permanent thing," warned Cathryn, although such ideas had crossed her mind more than once.

  "You're both lonely, and you're obviously good for each other. Marriage is wonderful, Cathryn, and don't you forget it. Look at Judy and me."

  "Everybody isn't like you and Judy, Ron," she said gently, thinking how, in contrast to herself, Judy, a devoted stay-at-home mom, really enjoyed the day-to-day tasks of cooking, cleaning, and carpooling. "Marriage might not be right for me."

  "You might want to rethink that," Ron said.

  When Cathryn opened her mouth to object, he silenced her with an upraised hand.

  "You should think about making time for the things that count. You can't imagine what a difference Amanda has made in our lives, Cathryn."

  "I love Amanda, don't get me wrong," Cathryn replied patiently. "Not everyone is cut out to be a mother, though. Watching Judy, who's so good at it, has made me see that parenting is the hardest job in the world. At the advanced age of thirty-three, I've become a little less keen on the idea of having a child. Not to mention the fact that I'm one of those old-fashioned women who thinks one should have a husband first." She said this dispassionately. The fact that motherhood had passed her by—or more to the point, that she had so far chosen to pass it by—lost its importance long ago in the face of her success.

  "I guess what I'm trying to say is that you can't know what fulfillment is until you have a family to love. And to love you." Ron spoke earnestly, but Cathryn found herself wishing for a quick change of subject.

  She'd never made a conscious decision to remain child-free. It had just happened. All this talk about marriage and children made her nervous. She and Drew had never touched on the subject, and it certainly seemed out of place to be discussing it now.

  Anyway, what did Ron know about the fulfillment of a home perfectly designed to suit its inhabitants, or the surge of satisfaction when she opened bank statements and saw that big dollar sign on the bottom line, knowing that she alone was responsible for it? There was fulfillment and there was fulfillment, and she had found hers.

  She stood up abruptly. The speedboat had towed its skier to shore, and Drew was handing the water skis over to the next in line.

  "Hey, I haven't made you angry, have I?" Ron asked.

  She forgave him. Ron had only been voicing his concern for her, and she was grateful that he cared enough to speak out.

  "Not angry. Just impatient," she said with an understanding smile.

  Ron looked relieved. "I don't know, I guess it's just the occasion of my tenth wedding anniversary. I want everyone to be as happy as Judy and I are." He treated her to an unabashed grin.

  She patted him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're happy. Just remember that happiness is different things for different people. There are Judys, and there are Susannahs. And there are Cathryns. And speaking of folks, I want one of them to try Judy's potato salad, and he's coming out of the water right now. I'll see you later." She headed for Drew, who by this time was toweling himself dry and looking about as though he expected to see her.

  "Here I am," she said, surprising him by approaching from behind and sliding her arms around his damp chest. "Want me to dry your back?" Her chin rested on his shoulder, and she nuzzled his neck with her chin.

  "You have the best ideas," he said, handing her the towel. She blotted him carefully, working in a few massages of the shoulder muscles as she did so.

  "That feels good," he said. "Don't stop."

  "Sorry, but we'd better close in on the buffet table now if we want to get any of Judy's potato salad."

  They walked hand in hand up the slope of the lawn, carefully avoiding the area where people were slinging horseshoes.

  "Nice party," Drew said, looking around. He liked Cathryn's friends and easily felt part of this convivial group.

  "Ron and Judy always have great parties. One thing I like about this one is that they've invited whole families, from grandparents to kids. It makes an interesting mix."

  "Speaking of kids, I want to meet Amanda," Drew said. They loaded their plates at the buffet table and sat on a pair of lawn chairs. A group of youngsters playing tag barely missed running over their toes as they raced across the lawn.

  "That's Amanda in the blue shirt, leading the pack," Cathryn told him. "The one with the short reddish curls like Judy's."

  "Cute kid." Drew dug into the potato salad, and Cathryn finished hers, leaning back in the comfortable chair and letting the sun warm her face.

  This day had been fun, almost idyllic. As a matter of fact, the past few weeks had been wonderful. She and Drew had learned so much about each other that was exciting and new. The more she learned about him, the more she loved him. Oh, yes, she loved him. She'd finally admitted it to herself. There wasn't any doubt in her mind.

  Drew—the sweet serendipity of discovering Drew. She'd learned the feel and shape of him, the softness of his earlobes, the suppleness of his fingers, the rectangular shape of his feet. She had partaken of his gentle, lingering kisses until she felt replete with love, and then, to her surprise, she had wanted more kisses, and more.

  Cathryn had learned to become uniquely selfless in their lovemaking. With Drew, she was able to give more of herself than she ever knew existed. She and Drew had discovered and shared their qualities. Together they were loving, giving, uncritical, and reassuring.

  The longer she knew him, the more confident she became that when the reality that inevitably intrudes on all lovers finally intruded on them, it would be something that they could handle. Her career, for instance. Cathryn's financial success didn't seem to threaten Drew. He was proud of her. And because she spent so much of her time immersed in her work, she didn't question it when he had to work late at his office. She understood the importance of the work ethic in his life.

  Drew seldom dumped his problems on her or used her to shore up his ego. His ego didn't need shoring up. He accepted himself as he was and made Cathryn feel accepted as well. Cathryn considered them equals, and they both reveled in their wonderful companionship.

  But marriage? They hadn't talked about it, and Cathryn didn't want to.

  A pair of sticky hands slid around her neck from behind, and a pair of small arms hugged her.
r />   "Cathryn!" said Amanda. "I've hardly seen you all day!"

  Cathryn grasped one of Amanda's hands and pulled her around so that she could see her. "I know. I've been wondering where my favorite goddaughter was." Noticing Amanda's curious scrutiny of Drew, she said, "Amanda, this is Drew Sedgwick. Drew, this is Amanda."

  The two of them grinned at each other.

  "Why don't you get some food and eat with us?" suggested Cathryn.

  "Okay. But I'm going to water-ski in a little while."

  "There'll be plenty of time to ski before the sun goes down," Cathryn assured her.

  Amanda skipped away and returned with a plate filled with potato salad, baked beans, and pickles. She sat crosslegged at their feet. Drew watched in amazement as Amanda unconcernedly mixed her baked beans and potato salad together and placed the pickles on top.

  "Won't that upset your stomach?" he said when he had recovered from the sight of it.

  Amanda finished chewing a mouthful. "No, and anyway, the food will be all mixed up when it gets to my stomach, so I figure I might as well eat it just like this."

  Cathryn stifled a laugh, but Drew couldn't. His laughter boomed out over the lawn, and Amanda looked self-consciously pleased.

  When he was through laughing, Drew twinkled his eyes at Amanda and said, "Well, my little girl would have a colossal stomach ache if she ate her potato salad and beans and pickles that way, I'm sure of it!"

  "You have a little girl?" He had captured Amanda's attention.

  Drew's and Cathryn's eyes met over Amanda's head. All at once Cathryn was afraid that Drew would find it too painful to talk about Selby.

  But to her relief Drew said easily, "I have a daughter named Selby who lives with her mother in New York. She's seven years old."

  "Will I get to meet her sometime?"

  Drew smiled at Amanda. "I hope so," he said.