“She was very pretty, Sabrina.” He decided, as he said it, to tell her some small part of the truth. “And very spoiled. Southern girls often were then. Her father wanted her to have everything.”
“Did he see the house?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Her parents never came out here. Her mother got sick after we were married, and she died shortly after … your mother’s death.”
“They would have loved the house.” She looked up at him with childlike adoration. “She must have too.”
“I suppose so.” And then suddenly he remembered the constant round of parties. “She loved to entertain there.” He remembered too the ball he had forbidden her to give, and later the parties she must have gone to with du Pré, whenever he was in Napa. “She liked to go out a great deal.”
“She must have, she had such pretty clothes.”
He knit his brows. “How do you know that, Sabrina?”
She looked momentarily embarrassed. “I saw her clothes today, Papa. They’re all there.” They weren’t “all” there, but she couldn’t know that and he didn’t tell her.
He sighed again. “I suppose I should have done something about all that when … when she died.…” Sabrina noticed that he always seemed to have trouble saying the words, as though they still pained him too much. He looked at his daughter now. “You shouldn’t have gone there, Sabrina.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. It’s just … I’ve wondered about it for so long.”
“But why? We have a good life in St. Helena.”
“I know.” She hung her head, but her thoughts instantly went back to the beautiful mansion, and when she looked at him again, her eyes were hopeful. “Will you really give me a party there one day? Can we stay there?”
“I told you I would.” He smiled at her, and pulled gently at one of the long braids. “If that would make you happy, princess, then it’s a promise. For your eighteenth birthday.”
“I’d love that.” Her eyes shone in the soft light.
“Then it’s a promise.” And they both knew that he always kept his promises.
He didn’t say anything further about her wanderings in the city house the next day, but he spoke to his friend at the Nevada Bank, and had him send over some men to look for broken shutters and board the house up further if necessary, and on the way back to Napa, he extracted a promise from Sabrina.
“I don’t want you to go there again, little one. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Papa.” She was surprised that he hadn’t been angrier about it. “But couldn’t I go there one day with you?” He shook his head.
“I have no reason to go there again, Sabrina.” And then he smiled. “Until the ball on your eighteenth birthday. I made you a promise, and you know I’ll keep it. We’ll go there then, and spend some time in San Francisco together that spring, if you like. But in the meantime, you’re not to go climbing over fences, and climbing through windows to go through old closets and other people’s clothes.” She flushed scarlet at his words. And in truth, that was what had bothered him most of all, that she had been hungry for some distant glimpse of Camille, even through the clothes in her closets. He wondered if that was the only reason she had gone there, and that really cut him to the quick. So much so that his voice was harsh on his next words. “You could have fallen and gotten hurt, and no one would have known where to find you. It was a stupid thing to do.” He frowned and stared out the train window, and Sabrina said not another word until they pulled into the station at St. Helena.
20
“Well, Hannah, take care of the place while we’re gone.” The old woman harrumphed and limped painfully down the front steps with them. The carriage was loaded with what looked like all of their belongings, but was actually only Sabrina’s new dresses. Jeremiah was smiling down at the old housekeeper now. He had wanted to take her with them, but she insisted that she didn’t want to go. And at eighty-three years of age, she had a right to decide what she wanted to do. She thought it a lot of foolishness. “It’s only for two months anyway.” And he had promised her years before. It was a promise he hadn’t even been sure Sabrina would want him to keep. But he’d been surprised when he had broached it to her several months before, she thought it would be fun. He had promised to open up Thurston House for her, and give her a ball for her eighteenth birthday. “Maybe there’s a little of her mother in her after all,” he had teased when Amelia had come to town. But Amelia had thought it a fine idea, she was only sorry not to be able to come back to San Francisco for it. But she had already been twice that year, once for her oldest granddaughter’s wedding to one of the Floods, and the second time to stay with her daughter when her son-in-law died. She couldn’t come back again, and as they were officially still in mourning, it wouldn’t have been appropriate for her to attend a ball. But she had given Jeremiah all the advice she could about the party.
She had even gone with him the first time they opened the house, and she had felt a shiver run through him as he stood next to her. She had turned sympathetically to him and touched his arm.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. The Fairmont should be finished by then. You could give the ball there, Jeremiah.” She had often wondered why he hadn’t sold the house, she knew just how painful it was for him, and yet he had stubbornly held on to it for Sabrina.
“I want to do it here.” She had watched his jaw tense, and together they had gone through the house with a crew of newly hired servants. There was an incredible amount of work to do, repairing, and rehanging, and cleaning and painting, but actually, the place was in surprisingly good shape. But Amelia felt particularly sorry for him when they reached the master suite. It seemed so painful for him to be here, and Amelia had dared to urge him to sleep in another room, and he was grateful for the idea. She stood beside him as they opened the closet in Camille’s dressing room. She was going to suggest to him to throw everything away, but he told the servants to put everything in boxes in the basement.
“Why would you want to keep those things? She didn’t even want them when she left.” Amelia looked puzzled as they made their way back downstairs. It was going to be a mammoth job readying the house for Sabrina’s ball, but Amelia thought it an exciting project.
“Sabrina may want her mother’s things one day.” He told her then about the escapade five years before, when she was thirteen, when she had climbed the gate and come in through a back window. “I realized then that there’s a piece of her missing, because she never knew Camille, and I’ve never said a great deal about her. I think Sabrina feels that the subject is taboo, she thinks I’m still in mourning for her death.” He sighed and smiled at Amelia. They had known each other for twenty years now and he took as much pleasure as he once had in seeing her. She was always vibrant and alive, and kind, and a pleasure to be with. And even at sixty, she was still a beautiful woman and he told her so each time he saw her.
“What outrageous lies you tell, Jeremiah. And how glad I am that you do!” She laughed, and he kissed her.
She had given Sabrina a beautiful pearl necklace in advance of the party, and had told her again how sorry she was not to be there.
“We’ll miss you too, Aunt Amelia.” Sabrina had kissed her warmly and promised to wear the pearls to her ball. Amelia had helped her pick out an exquisite white satin dress with clusters of pearls embroidered on it. It was a spectacular dress, and at the same time, Amelia had helped her to design and order three more dresses to wear to the other parties with her father. One in particular Sabrina was excited about wearing. It was more sophisticated than any dress she’d ever owned, and she and Amelia had debated lengthily over it. It was a soft metallic gold fabric, and it was absolutely exquisite with her creamy skin and black hair. And together, she and Amelia had decided that she could get away with it, if the dress was simple enough. They chose a design that was not terribly low cut, and when the dress arrived in St. Helena, Sabrina had absolutely gasped in delight, and wouldn’t let her father see it till
she wore it. She had already decided to wear it to the opera in San Francisco with him. The New York Metropolitan Opera Company was coming to San Francisco, and her father was taking her to see Carmen with Fremstadt and Caruso, and she was immensely excited, as much about the opera as about what she’d be wearing.
The dress was in her trunks now, as the carriage rolled onto the grounds of Thurston House. For an instant, she remembered the first time she’d been there, after climbing over the gate, and now here she was, rolling up to the house in grand style, in her father’s new carriage. For the last half hour they had been discussing the blight on the grapes in the Napa Valley that had ruined the crops for several years, but suddenly she could think of nothing but the excitement of moving into the elegant house. She stood in the front hall under the magnificent dome, and remembered again the first clandestine time she had seen it. But there was nothing clandestine now, the house was spotless and there were flowers everywhere, the silver was polished, the brass shined, and as she turned toward her father, for an instant he felt a knife pierce his heart. She suddenly looked so much like her mother as she stood there. He remembered the first time he had brought her here, and her sheer delight to learn that the house was theirs. Jeremiah had given orders that Sabrina be given the master suite. He didn’t want to sleep there anymore, and with fresh fabrics everywhere in soft silks and bright pinks, it was the perfect room for her. She was the same age as her mother when she had lived there, the only difference was that she was not a married woman, but a young girl, and she was very different from Camille Beauchamp.
“Papa, everything looks so lovely!” She didn’t know where to look first. He and Amelia had done a spectacular job ordering new fabrics and curtains. And the ballroom had been freshly painted and everything shone. It was another three weeks before her party, and she could hardly wait, but there was plenty for them to do in the meantime. They were going to the opera in two days, and the following week, the Crockers and the Floods and the Tobins had invited them to dinner. Her father had renewed friendships he had neglected for years, in order to present Sabrina to everyone he knew. He wanted her to have a glittering two months in San Francisco, and then they would return to St. Helena for the summer. And in October, he would bring her back to the city again until Christmas. It was not unlike the life he had led with her mother, but unlike Camille, Sabrina was grateful for every moment in the city, and equally happy to return to St. Helena. She took an active interest in his mines, and was desolate over the disaster that had struck the vineyards. She was intrigued by the fact that the lethal mite had mainly affected the European vines, and she had a theory that their native vines would survive and become resistant to the plague that had all but destroyed them. But her father admitted good-naturedly that she knew far more about it than he now. The vineyards had been her passion for years, but she was equally attentive to what went on in the mines. He often teased her that when he died, she could run it all perfectly well without him.
“That’s a terrible thing to say, Papa.” She always scolded him, she didn’t like to think of his dying. And at sixty-three, he was still in relatively good health, although from time to time his heart gave a whisper of trouble. But she and Hannah took as good care of him as he would allow, and the doctor said he would live for at least another twenty years. “And you’ll have to live that long if you plan to marry me off and have me mother to a dozen children.” She still loved to tease him, but the fact was that she knew a great deal about his business. She had spent too many hours at his side, watching what he did, and listening carefully, not to, and she was an unusually bright girl. But he didn’t want her thinking about any of that now. He just wanted her to have a good time, and enjoy her “first season.” This was a special time for her, and he wanted everything about it to be perfect.
There were huge vases filled with pink roses in her room, and by the next day, she felt quite at home there. For a moment, as she lay in her bed, she had thought to herself that her mother had once slept there, looked up at the same ceiling, glanced out the same windows, sat in the same bathtub. She smiled to herself. It gave her a feeling of kinship with the mother she had never known, just to be here. And over the past months, she had been in the house several times, discussing with her father whatever changes were going to be made, and what they needed in the way of modern conveniences to live there. A great many things had changed in the twenty years since he’d built it, and although it was still one of the largest mansions in the city, it was no longer the most modern. But it was certainly comfortable now, as Sabrina dressed to go to the opera with her father.
The gold dress lay spread out on the bed, and she had had gold shoes made to match in the same delicate metallic fabric. She would wear the pearls that Amelia had given her before she left, and the pearl and diamond earrings her father had given her for Christmas. She dressed her hair carefully after she took her bath, and applied a tiny bit of rouge and powder to her face and then carefully put on lipstick. It only served to enhance the striking beauty of her complexion and features, and then she carefully put on the gold dress, with the assistance of one of the new maids. And for a moment, Sabrina felt as though her mother were watching, and she wondered if she would approve. Undoubtedly, Sabrina had deduced, she was a great beauty, and she couldn’t help wondering what her mother would think of her now. She would never know the answer to that, but it was obvious what her father thought as she walked slowly down the main staircase beneath the stained-glass dome. There were tears in his eyes, as he watched her, speechless.
“Where did you ever get that dress, little one?” She smiled at the fond words, but there was nothing little about her now. She had grown to a considerable height, and was tall for a woman, but not too much so. She had stopped growing just in time, and she had a long graceful neck, and long thin arms, which showed well in the elegant dress. “My word, child, you look like a goddess.”
She glowed in the warmth of his love as she smiled up at him. “I’m glad you like it. Amelia helped me pick out the material when she was here. I ordered it just for tonight, Papa.”
And when she arrived at the opera house on Mission Street with her father, she didn’t regret it. Metallic fabrics and sequins in a riot of colors were the fashion, and her dress was subtler than most, but as beautiful as any dress there. The women of San Francisco had gone wild in wearing their largest jewels, their finest gowns, and all their best plumage for the occasion. The opera had actually opened the night before, but tonight, with Caruso’s performance of Carmen, was the greatest social event, and there were balls planned at the Palace, St. Francis, and Delmonico’s afterward. The Thurstons were planning to join a group of their friends at the St. Francis, but Sabrina was excited enough now, just seeing the crowds of elaborately dressed women going in, and again at intermission. It was a long way from their quiet life in St. Helena, and she suddenly realized that these were going to be the most exciting months here, and she was thrilled that they had come to San Francisco.
As they left the opera several hours later, she gently pressed her father’s arm, and he looked down at her to see if something was wrong, but instead he saw her beaming up at him and she looked like a fairy princess.
“Thank you, Papa.”
“What for?” he asked as they reached their carriage.
“For all this. I know you didn’t want to come back to the city and open the house. You did it for me, and I’m loving every minute.”
“Then I’m glad we did it.” And the funny thing was that he really was glad. It was exciting being out in the world again, he had forgotten how pleasant it could be at times, if it wasn’t excessive. And there was something wonderful about presenting his only child to the world. She was graceful and intelligent and kind, poised and lovely.… He beamed to himself, there weren’t enough words to describe just how lovely she was. He looked down at her happily as she looked out the window in fascination as they rode to the St. Francis Hotel. And the ball they attended was abs
olutely splendid. Everyone imaginable was there, including Caruso himself at one point, and there seemed to be a festive air all over the city, as people went from one ball to another and then on to smaller parties. The opera had been a major social event, and Sabrina was glad that her ball wasn’t for another three weeks. It would give people time to calm down again, and get ready for some more excitement. It would have been impossible to compete with the glitter of the evening of Carmen.
It was three o’clock in the morning when they got home, and Sabrina could scarcely conceal a yawn as she walked slowly up the grand staircase of Thurston House with her father. “What a beautiful evening, Papa.…” He agreed that it had been, and then Sabrina giggled, “If Hannah could only see us now, coming home at three in the morning.” They both laughed, imagining her frown and sharp scolding. She would have thought it decadent and indecent. Sabrina laughed again, “And she would have told me that I’m just like my mother. Whenever she doesn’t like what I’m doing, that’s what she says. Those two must have really hated each other.” Sabrina grinned and Jeremiah smiled. It was funny now, but it hadn’t been then. Very little that Camille had done was funny.
“They did hate each other. They had some awful fights when I first brought your mother to Napa.” And then, for the first time in twenty years, he remembered the ring Hannah had found. Thank God she had, if not, there would have been no Sabrina, he reminded himself. But like others, it was not a story he would ever tell his daughter, and he was grateful that Hannah hadn’t either. She was a decent woman and had been a good friend, for a long, long time.
Father and daughter kissed good night outside the master suite that was Sabrina’s now, and when she walked into her bedroom, she looked out the window at the beautifully manicured gardens. How different they had been five years before when she’d climbed the fence. It was a jungle out there then, she smiled to herself, and she thought of her mother looking out those same windows late at night when she came home from some ball or party. She felt the house alive around her, as it had been nearly twenty years before. It seemed right that she should be here now, and it seemed right too that this beautiful house had come back to life. It had seemed so sad and empty five years before as she crept around it for the first time. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she took off the pearls from Amelia and then the gold dress she had enjoyed wearing so much. And as she looked at her reflection and then glanced at the enamel clock on the night table, she noticed that it was already almost four in the morning. A faint thrill ran through her, she had never been up so late, except maybe once when there was a flood at the mine and her father hadn’t come home until morning, but never just for fun. And this had been the most fun evening of her life. She could hardly wait for her ball, she thought to herself, as she went to bed, and turned out the light. She lay trying to go to sleep for almost an hour, but she was much too excited by everything she’d seen and the parties they’d been to. She wondered if her father was awake too, and finally she got up and wandered into her little dressing room. She didn’t want to go to bed, instead she wanted to stay awake and watch the dawn. She didn’t want to miss anything going on, she felt more alive than she ever had before, and as she slipped a white satin dressing gown on and looked for her slippers, she decided to go downstairs for a cup of warm milk, but halfway down the grand staircase, she felt a strange swaying sensation, as though she were on an ocean liner and they had just hit a swell. It was as though the house rose and sank, but it seemed to go on moving for an endless period of time and suddenly it registered what was happening. They were having an earthquake, and as she dashed down the front stairs toward the front door, the entire stained-glass dome exploded in a shower of colored panes and splinters on the floor beneath it. She just missed being cut to shreds as she stood trembling in the doorway, not sure what to do. Her father had often spoken of the quakes of ’65 and ’68, but all she could remember was that you were supposed to stand in the doorway, and now she stood there, with the door open, shivering in the chill April air as the house began to shudder again, but this time it subsided more quickly. Everything in the house suddenly seemed to be askew. Small tables had fallen over, glass had shattered, silver had crashed to the floor, and she looked around at the rubble now and realized that her arm had been cut by a piece of falling glass from the window beside her. There was a dark stain of blood spreading across the shoulder of her nightgown, as she heard a door open above and her father’s voice shout into the darkness. He had already looked for her in her bedroom and couldn’t find her.
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