Her Own Rules

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  She now peered into the milling crowd filling the drawing room, wishing Cat or Jon would reappear. There were about sixty people present and she hardly knew any of them, only the immediate members of the Pearson family: Anne and Paul, Keith’s parents, his sisters Margery, Susan, Rosemarie, Jill, and Wendy, and his two brothers, Will and Dominick. And Eric Clarke, Margery’s husband, one of her hosts this evening.

  The Pearson family was a large and boisterous American-Irish clan. As big as the Kennedy tribe, Cat had informed her recently. However, the Pearsons did not hail from Boston; they were dyed-in-the-wool Yankees from the heart of Connecticut. It suddenly struck Meredith that the Pearsons were out in full force this evening, since there were innumerable aunts, uncles, cousins, and their offspring present.

  And we are only three, such a small family, she thought. Not much of a match for a crew like the Pearsons. Meredith felt unexpectedly overwhelmed, and then she experienced such a sudden sense of loss, she was startled. It was a feeling she could not rightly explain to herself.

  Blanche and Pete O’Brien had come in from Silver Lake to attend the party and they were extended family. Even so . . . Meredith snapped her eyes shut, endeavoring to shake off that awful feeling.

  Opening her eyes a moment later, she scanned the room, wondering where Blanche and Pete were. Somehow she had lost track of them in the last hour. Perhaps they were in the crowded dining room, where a buffet table groaned with all manner of fancy hors d’oeuvres.

  Meredith felt strangely isolated, standing there alone, propped up against the breakfront. I must sit down, she thought, and decided to head for a chair near the fireplace. It was then that she spotted her daughter.

  Catherine was glancing around, obviously looking for her.

  Meredith raised her hand, waved.

  Instantly Cat saw her, smiled, waved back, and hurried across the drawing room.

  “Mom, there you are, I’ve been looking all over for you,” Catherine said, rushing up to Meredith. “Isn’t this a wonderful party? I’m so excited tonight. I can’t stand it.” She looked down at her left hand, gazed at her sapphire ring admiringly, then flashed it at Meredith. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it, Mom?”

  “Beautiful, darling,” Meredith answered, and caught hold of Cat’s arm to steady herself.

  Catherine gave her a quick look and exclaimed, “Mom, are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you seemed to stagger just now, and you’re very pale. Not only that, you look taut, tense. Are you sure nothing’s wrong? Look, if you’re not ill, is there something else the matter? You’re not angry, are you? I mean because Margery and Eric insisted on throwing the party?”

  “Don’t be silly, you know I’m not like that. I feel a bit tired, that’s all. I’ve probably been overdoing it at the office.”

  “Let’s go and sit on the sofa over there, Mother. My feet are killing me anyway These shoes are fab, but gosh, they’re agony”

  Meredith allowed her daughter to guide her to a sofa near the fireplace, and she sat down gratefully. A moment earlier she felt as though all of her strength were ebbing away The last thing she wanted was to pass out here. She would be humiliated in front of all these people.

  Turning to Catherine, she said, “Perhaps a glass of water would help. Could you get me one, please?”

  “Of course, Mom. I won’t be a minute.” Catherine threw her mother a reassuring smile and glided across the floor toward the large entrance foyer, where a bar had been set up.

  No one would know her feet are killing her, Meredith thought, watching her daughter float through the room as if she were walking on air.

  How beautiful Catherine looked tonight, so elegant in her short midnight-blue taffeta cocktail suit and Amelia’s pearls. Her brown hair was cut in a sleek shape, and her lovely, open face looked so young and fresh, her wide-set eyes very blue. Cat was tall, as she was, with long, shapely legs. I can’t imagine why she wants to wear five-inch heels, Meredith thought in bafflement, then leaned back against the sofa, trying to relax.

  Suddenly, there was her son, pushing forward through the throng. She watched him walking rapidly toward her, tall, slender, as blonde as she, with her green eyes. Cat resembled her father, while Jon took after her.

  As he drew closer, she saw that he wore a worried expression on his lean face. “Mom, what’s the matter?” he asked, drawing to a standstill by her side. “I just saw Cat getting you a glass of water, and she thinks you’re not well. Are you ill?”

  “No, Jon, I’m not,” she answered evenly in a firm voice. “Truly, darling. I felt a bit queasy earlier. Perhaps I’m tired.”

  “You work too hard,” he said, bending his lanky frame over her, resting his hand on the sofa’s arm. Bringing his face closer to hers, he dropped his voice. “If you want to leave, I’ll go with you. I wouldn’t mind splitting this scene myself.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied swiftly. “And I don’t think we can leave. It wouldn’t be polite, and anyway, we can’t abandon Cat to all these Pearsons.”

  “She’s got Keith to protect her, and anyway, she’ll be a Pearson herself soon.”

  Meredith frowned, searched his face. “Aren’t you having a good time, Jon?”

  “Sure, it’s okay, but. . .” He shrugged. “I’m just here for Cat and you, Mom. I don’t have a lot in common with this group.”

  “Oh.” She drew back, looked at him closely. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  Jonathan shook his head and grinned. “No, not at all. And don’t get me wrong, I like Keith. I think he’s a pretty nifty guy, and he’s great for Cat. But I’m not particularly close to their friends, my group’s different, that’s all.” He looked directly at his mother, grimaced, and finished, “The Pearsons are a nice family, just a bit too social for me.”

  “I know,” Meredith murmured. “And I’m glad you came . . . for my sake and Cat’s.”

  “You can always depend on me, Mom. I wish Luc were here, he’d liven things up a bit.”

  Meredith laughed. “Here’s Cat now.”

  “With Keith hot on her heels,” Jon said, straightening up, glancing over his shoulder at his sister, who was heading their way.

  “Here’s your water, Mom.” Cat handed her the glass and sat down on the sofa next to her.

  “Thanks, darling.”

  “I’m sorry you’re under the weather, Meredith,” Keith said, bending over her as Jon had done a moment before. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  Meredith looked up into his freckled face, as always thinking how honest his light gray eyes were, and shook her head. “Thank you, Keith dear, but I’m feeling much better.” She smiled at him warmly, liking him, knowing he would make her daughter a good husband, just as Jon knew. Cat would be safe with Keith Pearson; he was devoted, loyal, and loving.

  Clearing her throat, Meredith said, “The three of you are beginning to make me feel like an invalid.”

  Keith grinned at her. “We don’t mean to, we just care about you, that’s all.”

  “You’re very sweet, Keith,” she answered.

  “You will come to dinner later, as planned, won’t you?” Keith went on, fixing her with his serious gray eyes. “I don’t want to pressure you, but we’ll all be disappointed if you don’t. It won’t be the same without you.”

  Meredith answered, “I wouldn’t miss it,” and patted his hand reassuringly. “Jon is my escort, he’ll look after me.”

  “Keith’s right, Mother, and the evening would certainly fizzle for me without you at the engagement dinner,” Catherine said.

  “I’ll be there.” Meredith smiled at her daughter, loving her.

  Catherine smiled back, lifted her left hand, tightened a loose pearl earring. The sapphire engagement ring flashed in the bright lamplight.

  It’s the color of her eyes, Meredith thought. Jack’s eyes.

  “You’re a good sport, Mother,” Jonathan said several hours later as he helped Meredith o
ut of her coat and hung it in the hall closet.

  “It was a lovely dinner in many respects, and generous of the Pearsons to have it in the private room at La Grenouille. But they’re a bit—”

  “Overwhelming,” Jonathan interrupted, and shook his head. “My God, all those Pearsons, Mom! My sister’s pretty brave, taking on that clan. I wouldn’t want to, I can tell you that.”

  “I know what you mean, but individually they’re very nice really, and Keith’s parents are lovely, Jon.”

  “True, but Keith’s sisters are a pretty rowdy bunch.”

  “The problem is, darling, we’re used to a whole different kind of family life, so much quieter. After all, there’s only been the three of us all these years.”

  “And thank God for that,” he answered, hanging up his overcoat. “In my opinion you deserve a medal, sitting through the dinner the way you did, all those toasts. Mind boggling.”

  Meredith laughed. “Yes, it was a bit much. But I began to feel better once we left the apartment, and I got some fresh air. And I do like the food at La Grenouille.”

  “You didn’t eat very much.”

  She smiled at her son. “I’d like a cup of tea, Jon, how about you?”

  “Great idea.”

  He followed his mother into the kitchen, took the kettle off the stove, filled it with water, put it back, then turned on the gas. He glanced out of the kitchen window. The lights of the Fifty-ninth Street Bridge twinkled brightly against the dark night sky; beyond he could see another bridge glowing in the distance. Beautiful glittering city. He had always loved Manhattan. Jonathan stared down at the East River flowing far below and then across at Roosevelt Island. Funny how his mother always wanted to live near water, needed to, really. This was the second apartment she had owned on Sutton Place. He liked this one the best; they lived in the penthouse and the views of Manhattan were spectacular.

  Meredith said, “When are you going back to New Haven?” and put two cups and saucers on a tray as she spoke.

  “Tomorrow morning, Early. I’ll do it in under two hours. It’s not that bad a drive. By the way has Cat indicated when she wants to get married?”

  Meredith nodded. “This year, certainly. They don’t want to wait too long, she told me. I’ve suggested September. It’s very lovely at Silver Lake at that time of year.”

  “Early October’s better, Mom, when the leaves are turning. I think a fall wedding would be picturesque.”

  “You’re right, and I did suggest that only the other day. Cat’s going to let me know sometime next week, so we can get the invitations engraved and sent out, make proper plans.”

  “Aunt Blanche is all worked up about the reception,” Jon said, laughing. “She’s been planning it for weeks. In her head, that is . . . she told me tonight that she wants to top your wedding reception, which she was apparently involved in.”

  “Very much so. In fact, she really designed and planned the entire thing by herself. She has such a talent for that kind of occasion. Make the tea, Jon, the kettle’s screeching its head off.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you go and sit in the library. I’ll bring the tea.”

  “Thanks, darling,” she said, and did as he suggested, walking out of the kitchen, across the entrance foyer and into the library, which overlooked the water. She went to one of the windows, stood staring out. A great barge was floating down, loaded with cargo, heading for the docks, no doubt.

  Meredith never got tired of looking at the East River. There was a great deal of traffic on this waterway and something was always moving on it, going up or down.

  Her thoughts turned to Catherine as she swung away from the window and went and sat down near the fireplace. She was going to give her the best wedding any girl had ever had, make sure that she—

  Jon interrupted her thoughts when he said, “Where do you want the tray, Mom? Over there by you, I guess.”

  “Yes, that’s fine, put it here on this coffee table.” Meredith moved a pile of large art books to make a space.

  Meredith poured, and they sipped their tea in silence for a few minutes, and then Jon suddenly said, “Are you going to make it permanent with Luc?”

  Startled, Meredith gaped at him.

  Jon said, “What I mean is, are you going to marry him, Mom?”

  “He hasn’t asked me,” Meredith replied.

  “But would you if he did?” Jon pressed.

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “Why don’t I know? Is that what you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Meredith lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “I just don’t, that’s all. It would be a big step for me to take, it would mean rearranging my life completely.”

  “So what. I think you should marry him.”

  “You do, do you?” A blonde brow lifted expressively.

  “Sure. You’re in love with him, he’s in love with you. I bet if you gave him half a chance, he’d ask you.”

  Meredith said nothing.

  “You’ve been used to having us with you always, Mother. The Three Musketeers, remember? That’s what you used to call us. Cat’s getting married, starting a whole new life soon, her own family. And I expect I’ll get married when I meet the right woman. I just don’t want you to be all alone one day.”

  Meredith stared at her son, touched by his words, then her brows drew together in a furrow. “You’re worrying about my old age, is that it, Jon?”

  Laughing, he shook his head. “You’ll never be old, Mother. You’ll be beautiful forever. You’re the greatest looking forty-four year old I’ve ever seen.”

  “And you’ve lived such a long time,” she shot back, laughing with him. “Known so many women.”

  Jonathan’s face sobered as he continued. “I just don’t want you to be by yourself, lonely later in your life.” He cleared his throat and gave her a piercing look. “When I was little I used to hear you . . . crying, Mother. Sobbing as if your heart were breaking, at night in your bedroom. I used to stand outside the door and listen, hurting for you inside. But I didn’t dare come in, even though I wanted to comfort you.”

  “You could have,” she said softly, further touched by his words.

  “I was afraid. You could be very fierce, you know, in those days. Do you remember, I once asked you why you cried at night, when I was a bit older?”

  “Yes, vaguely.”

  “Do you recall what you said?”

  Meredith shook her head.

  “You told me you cried because you’d lost someone when you were a child. When I asked you who, you wouldn’t answer me, you just turned away.”

  Meredith stared at her son, speechless.

  “Mom, who was it that you lost? I’ve always wondered.”

  “I don’t know,” she replied after a long and thoughtful pause. “If I did, I would tell you, Jon. Truly I would.”

  Her son rose and came and sat next to her. He took hold of her hand, looked into her face. His own had a loving expression on it. Slowly, he said, “It broke my heart to hear you crying. I wanted to help you and I didn’t know how. It’s always worried me that you cried in that way.”

  “Oh Jon.”

  “That’s why Luc is so important to me . . . I want him for you, Mom, he’s such a great guy, and he loves you. Maybe he can make up for . . . everyone that hurt you.”

  During the night Meredith awakened.

  Immediately she slipped out of bed, put on a dressing gown, and went into the library. There was a tray of drinks on a console table and she poured herself a small brandy in a tall glass, added soda water, then carried it over to a chair. She sat down, made herself comfortable, took a sip of the drink.

  Lately she had discovered that it was far better to get up when she awakened in this way. It was easier to think through what was troubling her when she was sitting in a chair, rather than lying down in bed.

  Now, placing the glass on the coffee table, she sat back, relaxing, thinking of her son
s words.

  Jon had taken her by surprise, but she had also been moved by his words, his loving concern. Although she did not want him to worry about her, it was gratifying, in some ways, that he did. Her son cared about her well-being, and that was important to her.

  She had tried to bring up her children properly, had always striven to do the right thing for them, and she believed she had succeeded. Catherine and Jonathan had turned out to be good human beings, with all of the right values. They functioned, were well adjusted, very normal young people, and thank God they had never been tempted by their peers to experiment with drugs, nor did they drink much. She had been lucky with her children.

  It was startling to her that Jonathan remembered how she used to weep at night, when she thought her children were fast asleep. The odd thing was, she had no recollection of ever telling him she cried for someone she had lost when she was a child. Yet she knew he was not lying. Why would he? She must have forgotten what she had said to him all those years ago. And whom had she meant? She had no idea; she was truly baffled.

  Sighing to herself, finishing the drink, Meredith got up, walked back to her bedroom. Perhaps now she would be able to fall asleep. Certainly she must try. She had a busy day ahead of her. She took off her dressing gown and got into bed. Almost immediately she began to doze, drifting off into a deep sleep.

  There were many children. Boys and girls. Some of them were very young. Three and four years old. Others were older, perhaps seven and eight. They were all walking across the vast landscape. Some were hand in hand, boys and girls, and girls together. Many walked alone. Too many children, she thought, filling with fear. I’ll never find that little girl again. Or the boy. They are lost to me. Where are they? They must be among these children. I must find them. She was frantic, running in among the children as they walked, perfectly in step, toward the distant horizon. She peered into their faces. She did not know them. They marched across the parched, cracked mud flats like automatons, staring straight ahead, paying no attention to her. Their faces were glazed, empty of expression, their eyes dull, lifeless. Where are you going? she cried. Where are you heading? None of them answered her.