“France didn’t exactly have a choice.” She was annoyed at him. It was a stupid thing to say.
“Maybe not, but this country does, and we’re a hell of a lot smarter than that.” And he expressed the same views in Napa the following year and Sabrina almost bit off his head.
“Don’t kid yourself, Jon. I think Roosevelt is full of shit. We’ll be involved over there within a year, if the war isn’t over before that.”
“The hell we will.” He had drunk too much wine, and it was their annual visit, and Jon was glad they’d come this year. Arden had been depressed for the last two months. She had lost a baby in June and she acted as though it was the end of the world. “It was only a baby, for chrissake … hell, it wasn’t even that.” But she had sobbed inconsolably and Sabrina knew how she felt. She remembered how she had felt when she lost the first child she and John had conceived, and it had taken her so long to get pregnant both before and after that.
“You’ll get over it … look at me, I had Jon … and look at Dominique.” They exchanged a smile as they watched her playing with a puppy on the lawn. She was almost five years old now, and to her parents seemed the sweetest child that ever lived. She was the joy of her parents’ life, as others had said she would be. “You’ll have another one, one day. But it’s difficult at first. Why don’t you keep yourself busy for a while?”
Arden shrugged, with tears in her eyes again. All she wanted to do was get pregnant again, but Jon was never home, and when he was, he was either drunk or tired. He was hardly being cooperative, but she didn’t want to tell his mother that.
“Give it time. Goodness, it took me two years to conceive again, and it won’t take you that long.” Arden smiled, unconvinced. She still looked as though the end of the world had come and Jon left her in Napa for the entire trip, while he went to San Francisco to see friends, which Sabrina thought was rotten of him.
“Does he do that a lot?” she asked Arden frankly one day, and Arden hesitated and then nodded her head. She seemed even prettier and sleeker this year, though she had lost a little too much weight. She was actually prettier than the models he chased.
“He and Bill go out quite a bit. My father said something to Bill about it a few months ago. He thought that maybe if Bill didn’t go, Jon would behave”—she looked apologetically at her mother-in-law, but Sabrina urged her on—“but those two have been friends for so long, you can’t separate them even for a night. It would help if Bill got married, but he says he never will,” she smiled, “and at the rate he’s going, that’s probably true.”
“The difference is that Jon already is married. Has anyone reminded him of that?” she said angrily to André that night, but he refused to get involved.
“He’s a grown-up now, Sabrina, a married man. And he didn’t welcome my interference as a boy, I certainly don’t think I should say anything to him now.”
“Then I will.”
“That’s up to you.”
And when she did, Jon told her to go to hell. “Has she been whining to you again? What a pain in the ass. Her brother is right. She’s a spoiled whiny brat.” He was fiercely annoyed and he had a hideous hangover again.
“She’s a warm, decent, loving girl, Jon, and she’s your wife.”
“Believe me, I’ve noticed that.”
“Have you? What time do you come home at night?”
“What is this? A kangaroo court? What business is it of yours?”
“I like her, that’s what. And you’re my son, and I know what a horse’s ass you can be, indulging yourself, chasing girls. You’re married now, for God’s sake. Act like it. You were almost a father a few months ago—”
He cut her off. “That wasn’t my idea. That was her fault.”
“Didn’t you want the baby, Jon?” Her voice was gentler now, and her voice was sad. She wondered if Antoine’s prediction was right. Things didn’t seem to be working out.
“No, I did not. I want a baby like I want a lame horse. For heaven’s sake, I’m twenty-seven years old, we have plenty of time for that.” In a way he was right, but Arden was anxious for a child. And then suddenly, Sabrina couldn’t stop herself from asking what was on her mind.
“Are you happy with her, Jon?”
He looked at his mother suspiciously. “Did she tell you to ask me that?”
“No. Why?”
“It just sounds like something she’d want to know. She’s always asking dumb questions like that. Hell, I don’t know. I’m married to her, aren’t I? What more does she want?”
“Maybe a lot more. It takes more than just a ceremony. It takes affection and understanding and patience and time. How much time do you spend with her?”
He shrugged. “Not much, I guess. I have a lot of other things to do.”
“Like what? Other girls?”
He looked at her defiantly. “Maybe. So what? It’s not hurting her. There’s still enough for her. I got her pregnant, didn’t I?” His attitudes made her sick.
“Why did you ever want to marry her?”
“I told you that a long time ago.” He looked Sabrina in the eye and never flinched. “She was my passport to success. If I’m married to Arden, I have a job for life.” Sabrina almost cried at his words.
“Do you mean that?”
He shrugged and looked away. “She’s a nice kid. I know she’s always been crazy about me.”
“But what do you feel for her?”
“The same thing I feel for any other girl, sometimes more, sometimes less.”
“And that’s it?” Sabrina stared at him, wondering who he was, who was this hideous, unfeeling, ungiving, uncaring man she had once carried inside her own flesh? Who was he now?… He was Camille, a voice inside her said … but he was also part of her … and yet, he had no heart. “I think you made a terrible mistake.” She spoke in a quiet voice. “That girl deserves better than that.”
“She’s happy enough.”
“No, she’s not. She’s lonely and sad and she probably knows that you don’t care about her any more than you care for the shoes on your feet.” He looked down and then up at Sabrina again. There wasn’t much he could say.
“What do you want me to do? Pretend? She knew what I was when she married me.”
“And she was a fool. But she’s paying a high price for it.”
“That’s life, Mom.” He grinned lopsidedly at her and stood up, and she noticed again how handsome he was. But that wasn’t enough, and she pitied Arden now even more than she had before. She held her tight for a long moment when she took them to the train.
“Call if you need me.…” She looked her in the eye. “Remember that. I’m right here, and you can always come out.” She had been pushing for them to come out for Christmas that year, ever since her talk with Jon. But he wanted to go to Palm Beach, it was more fun for him, and Bill would be there for him to carouse with. San Francisco was beginning to bore him to tears. It was too provincial for him, after Boston, and Paris and Palm Beach and New York. But Arden, who came from all that, was happier in Napa with Sabrina and André, and Dominique.
“We’ll see.” Arden clung to her and there were tears rolling down her cheeks as the train pulled away, and Sabrina felt a thousand-pound weight on her chest for weeks remembering what he had said to her. It took her that long to admit it to André and he was horrified.
“Antoine was right.”
“I thought he would be. He should have fought for her.”
“Maybe he was right about that too. Maybe he couldn’t have won. She was so crazy about Jon.”
“She was dead wrong. He’ll ruin her life.” It was a terrible thing for a mother to say, but that was how she felt. “I just hope she doesn’t get pregnant again. That’s all she needs. This way, if she sees the light one day, she’ll be alone and free to start again.” It was an awful thing to wish, for one’s daughter-in-law to divorce one’s son, but she did. Although she didn’t say it to Antoine when he came home on leave again. This t
ime he missed Dominique’s birthday, but not by much. He came at the end of November and stayed for a week, and they were on the way to the train station, with the radio on in the car, when news of Pearl Harbor hit.
“Oh my God.” She stopped the car and stared at him. They were alone. André never came to see him leave anymore, it was too painful for him. “My God … Antoine … what does that mean?” But she already knew what it meant. It meant war … and for her it meant Jon.… Antoine looked at her with sad eyes.
“I’m sorry, Maman.…” She nodded, choked with tears, and started the car again, she didn’t want him to miss his train, although actually she wanted that more than anything. What was the world coming to? The whole damn world was at war, and they had two sons to worry about, one in North Africa with De Gaulle and God only knew where they’d send Jon. But within a few days she knew. He had enlisted with Bill Blake after they got drunk the day they heard the news, and Jon was mad as fire. Bill was being shipped a few miles away to Fort Dix, and Jon was being sent to San Francisco, and after that, he’d ship out. He was bringing Arden out with him, and she could stay with Sabrina and André while he lived at the base.
“At least we’ll get Christmas together this year.” But the prospect didn’t please him very much. He was in a hideous mood when he arrived, annoyed at everything, lonely without Bill, and taking it all out on his wife, even on Christmas Eve, which they spent at Thurston House, and eventually Arden left the table in tears as he threw his napkin on the floor. “She makes me sick.” But not for long. Four days after that, he got his orders, the following day he was shipping out.
Sabrina and Arden and André and Dominique went to the pier to see him off and there was a flood of humanity everywhere, crying, sobbing, waving handkerchiefs and flags, there was a band playing music from the wharf, and there was a kind of unreality to it all, as though it were a game of “Let’s pretend,” but there was no pretense as they kissed him good-bye, and Sabrina grabbed his arm.
“I love you, Jon.” She hadn’t said it in a long time, and he wasn’t an easy person to say things like that to, but in spite of everything she wanted him to know that now.
“I love you too, Mom.” There were tears in his eyes and then he looked at his wife with his irresistible lopsided smile. “Take care of yourself, kid. I’ll write to you once in a while.”
She smiled through her tears and held tight to him. It seemed unbelievable that he was going now, but after they had said their good-byes, they watched the ship pull out and Arden was convulsed with sobs as Sabrina put an arm around her and held her tight, and André looked down at them, with Dominique in his arms, and thought of his son so far away. They were terrible times, for everyone, and he only prayed that both boys would come home safe.
“Come on, let’s go home.” Arden had decided to stay with them for a while, and when they went back to Thurston House, it felt like a tomb to all of them, and they left for Napa that afternoon. Somehow life was easier to endure there, there was the gentleness of the countryside, the fresh grass, the blue sky, it was hard to imagine that all wasn’t right with the world up there.
And it was here that the telegram came, five weeks after he left. The man in the uniform came one day, knocked at their front door and handed it to André. He felt his heart stop and tore it open for her, but the tears blurred his eyes before he could see which name was there … it was Jonathan Thurston Harte … we regret to inform you that your son is dead … the sound she made was an animal scream, the same sound she had made when he was born twenty-seven years before. He left the world as he had entered it, through his mother’s heart, with a piercing scream as she reached out to André, and Arden stood by in shock, and then Sabrina went to her, and the three of them clung to each other late into the night. Even Dominique cried. She understood now. Her brother had died. He was never coming back.
“Which one?” she kept asking André, confused about who it was.
“Jon, sweetheart … your brother, Jon.” And then he held her close to him, cradling her on his lap, feeling guilty that it was Jon and not Antoine, and at the same time relieved that it was not. He couldn’t look at Sabrina all day, so great was the guilt he felt, but she saw it there, she knew him too well.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Her face was almost unrecognizable she had cried so hard. “You didn’t make the choice. God did.” And with those words, he came to her arms and sobbed and prayed that God would not make that choice again. He couldn’t have borne to lose Antoine. Maybe it had happened to Jon because Sabrina was stronger than he was, he thought. But however he turned, whichever way he looked, it made no sense anyway. God gave and He took, and He gave and then He took again until it made no sense at all.
34
“What are you doing today?” Sabrina looked over her shoulder at her daughter-in-law playing with Dominique. Arden had decided to stay on, without ever actually deciding that. She had just never gone home. And she had been in Napa with them for five months now. It was June 1942, and Antoine was due home on leave in July this year. He had been hit in the left arm a few months before, but it had been no major wound. The only benefit of it was that he was working in De Gaulle’s office now, and they were grateful for that. “Do you want to come into town with me, or stay here?”
Arden mused and then smiled at the woman she loved so much. “I’ll come into town. What are you going to do?”
“Just some things at the house …” She didn’t want to upset her now. She had recovered very well. They had discovered after Jon’s death that she was pregnant again, but she had lost it almost immediately this time. “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.” But they had been difficult words to hear, and to say when Sabrina said them to her. She would have loved to know Jon’s child … her only grandchild … but it was too late to cry about that now, and they were all recovering slowly from the blow. The sun still rose every day, and the hills were green, and the grapes were beautiful, and each day it all began again, and somehow life didn’t seem so painful after a while. She had felt as though she were stumbling along the ground for a long time, but André had helped her up, and she had Dominique to bring her joy and give her love to, and Arden as well.
“Any news from Antoine?” Arden sounded casual as they drove into town. She was holding Dominique on her lap, and the child was asleep. She loved riding with them in the car, and especially loved her Aunt Arden, as she called her.
“Nothing much. He’s all right. Some funny stuff about De Gaulle,” she knit her brows, “but I showed you that. He’s still coming in when he said he was.” Arden looked at the passing countryside and then down at the sleeping child on her lap.
“He’s a very special man.” It was the first time she had really talked about him since Jon died, and Sabrina had wondered if she had guilt feelings about that. Jon had been so rotten to her, there was no denying that. Maybe she had even wished him dead once or twice. That would have made it harder when he died.… “I almost fell in love with Antoine a long time ago.”
Sabrina smiled as she drove. “I knew that.” And then, she moved on to more delicate ground. “I think he was in love with you then too.”
Arden nodded. “I know. But I was so crazy about Jon.”
“Antoine understood. He said you’d marry him long, long before you did.”
“He did?” She looked stunned. “How did he know?”
Sabrina laughed this time. “You said it yourself. He’s a very special man.” The two women exchanged a smile and crossed the new bridge into town. Sabrina liked the Golden Gate. It had a majestic quality to it, much more so than the Bay Bridge. She remembered the days of steamers and trains … how swiftly time passed … it was hard to believe that she was fifty-four years old, hardest for her to believe it. She didn’t feel that old. Where did it all go? And why so fast? Why didn’t one have more time?… but thoughts like that reminded her of Jon. And that was why she had come into town. She had come to watch them install the plaque.
The men were waiting for her when she arrived, and it was a small handsome piece of bronze, and she showed it to Arden now, and they went out to the garden that was so small now, but had once been so large. And Sabrina glanced at her plants, at the bright flowers, as the men drilled and then attached the plaque. There were three of them now … Jeremiah Arbuckle Thurston … John Williamson Harte … Jonathan Thurston Harte … it was sad seeing their names there, with the dates that framed their lives.
“Why did you do that?” Arden looked at her with big sad eyes.
“So no one forgets.”
“I’ll never forget you.” The men were gone, and Arden looked at her. “You will always be part of this house for me.”
Sabrina smiled and gently touched her cheek and then glanced at the plaque with the names of the men she had loved. “As they are for me … my father … John … Jonathan.…” The words brought their faces to mind … almost seemed to bring them to life again, and then Sabrina looked at her. “My name will be there one day … André’s … yours … Antoine’s.…” The only one who had disappeared was Camille. There was no plaque for her. She had chosen to abdicate, and she was erased from all memory. “The past is an important thing. It is to me, it has been to this house … how it came to be here”—she thought of her father then—“who loved it, who brought it along from then into now. But the present is important too. That part belongs to you,” she dared to say the words she hoped for them, “and perhaps Antoine, perhaps you, will live here one day.…” And then she looked at Dominique cavorting in the flower beds, and suddenly she stopped, as though she knew her mother was talking about her. “And the future is hers. Thurston House will be hers one day. I hope it means as much to her as it has to us. She was born in this house,” Sabrina smiled, remembering her birth with André at her side, “my father died in this house.…” She looked back up at it, at the rooms she loved and knew so well, and then she smiled at Dominique again. It was a legacy she was leaving her, or would leave one day, of people who had come before, leaving their mark, and their heart, and their love.
Thurston House Page 49