by Vanished
“I apologize.” He looked at her unhappily, but he didn't sound as though he meant it. He looked down at Teddy then, who was peeking around his mother. “I apologize to you too, young man. I have been extremely rude to you and your mother. It's a bad habit I have, but I've known her for a long time, almost since we were children.” They had almost been children then. Eighteen and twenty-three …My God, they'd been babies. And then he looked at Teddy more seriously. “One day, I would like to get to know you.” Teddy didn't look as though he reciprocated the feeling, but he nodded politely. “I had a little boy once too … his name was Andre. …” Charles's eyes filled with tears as he looked at Marielle again. “I'm sorry …maybe it's just because yesterday was so difficult …and seeing you …dammit …” He looked away and sniffed to try to clear his head. “Why is it always just there? Why does it hurt so damn much? Is it like that for you too?” He looked at her questioningly, but he was calmer again, and she nodded.
She had told him that at church the day before too, but he'd forgotten. And he'd started drinking the moment he left her.
“We should go back now,” she said again. “It's getting late.” Teddy had to have lunch, and go to the birthday party he was attending with Miss Griffin. In the end, it hadn't been much of a morning. In fact, it had been horrendous. And she was sorry. Her time with Teddy was so precious. “I'm sorry we ran into you like this.” It had been easier the day before, before he knew about her son. Now he was filled with anger and resentment. All during the night, he had drowned himself in alcohol and self-pity. But now he had set his feelings ablaze with the incendiary fumes of jealousy and fury.
“I'm leaving next week. I decided yesterday. Will you see me?”
She shook her head, holding Teddy's hand firmly in her own.
“Why not?”
“You know why. You're angry at me anyway, if we see each other it will just make things worse. Why torture ourselves with what we can't have now?”
“Who's to say what we can't have? You're not happy, it's written all over you. You're nervous, taut, wound up like a tight screw, your insides all tied in a knot. We can have anything we damn well want, if we've got the guts to take it” He seemed threatening somehow, when he said it.
“That's a nice attitude, Charles.”
“I can do whatever I damn well please.”
“How fortunate for you.”
“I want you.”
“Don't say that.” Her eyes blazed at him. “And even if you do, so what? We 'take it,' as you put it, and you leave and go back to Spain. Where would that leave me?” She was trying to reason with him, but it wasn't easy in the state he was in.
“Maybe it'll leave you happier than you are today. Or maybe you'd like to come with me.” The simplicity of it almost made her laugh. After six years she was supposed to just walk out on Malcolm, and their child, and go back to Europe with Charles as though nothing had ever happened. He really was more than a little crazy. “You could even bring the boy.”
“Your hospitality overwhelms me. And Malcolm? What happens to him after all this?”
“You win …you lose … he loses …”
“That's a rotten thing to suggest, Charles, and you know it. You also know me well enough to know I wouldn't do it.”
“Perhaps,” he said, grabbing her wrist in his powerful hand, “perhaps …you could be forced. …”
“Charles, this is not Spain, and you are not fighting for my freedom. This is ridiculous,” but she was trying to cover the fact that the look in his eyes had scared her.
“How ridiculous would it be if I took something you wanted—or loved—very much …and then perhaps you could be …induced, shall we say … to join me?”
“What exactly are you saying?” Even the thought of what he was suggesting terrified her.
“I think you understand me.”
“You wouldn't do a thing like that.” He was suggesting that he kidnap Teddy in order to make her go with him, but he was mad, and even he wouldn't do that. Or would he? His eyes said he would. But history said he couldn't. Or could he?
“It all depends on how desperate I am, doesn't it? …doesn't it? …” He suddenly let go of her wrist and laughed, and she looked at him with terror. It would be a relief when she knew that he was gone again. She was suddenly sorry that she had run into him at the church the day before. Perhaps he still mourned for Andre too, but it had obviously twisted him into someone she no longer knew and didn't want to.
“If you ever did anything like that, I want you to know that you would never get away with it, and instead of making me follow you … I would kill you …and so would my husband.”
“You terrify me.” He laughed drunkenly again.
“You make me sick. We had something beautiful that I've cherished in my heart for twelve years …along with the memory of someone sweet and pure …and you use it in this vile way to poison yourself and everyone around you. That isn't what he was about, and it isn't what you were about then.”
“Perhaps I've changed.” He smiled evilly at her, but the tragedy for both of them was that he really hadn't. He still loved her, still longed for their child, wished she'd return, and that they could recapture a past long gone and never to be forgotten.
“Good-bye.” She looked at him sadly for a long moment, and smiled gently down at Teddy, as they walked away. “We're going home now.” There was nothing more to say to Charles and he was staring at them as they walked away, but this time he didn't ask her to call him. He was angry at her, angrier than he had ever been. She felt colder than ever as they walked back to the car, and Teddy said not a word until they reached it.
“I don't like him,” he said quietly, as the chauffeur closed the doors of the Pierce-Arrow. Patrick had followed them into the park, according to Malcolm's orders to him, to ensure their safety, and he had seen Charles again, but he had heard none of the conversation. He recognized him from the church, and he was ever more intrigued by what Marielle was up to. It was odd that she had taken the boy with her, but maybe she wanted the boy to meet him.
“He's not a bad man,” Marielle said sadly as they drove toward home. “He's very unhappy. We used to be very good friends.”
Teddy nodded, trying to understand it. And then he looked at her again, and asked a question she hadn't expected. “Who's Andre?” Her breath caught as he asked and she took a moment before she answered.
“Andre was his little boy. He died … a long time ago …and Charles has been very sad ever since then. That's what makes him act so crazy.” Teddy nodded then, as though now everything was clear to him. And then he looked up at his mother.
“Did you know Andre too?” She fought back tears as she nodded and held his hand tightly. She had wanted to tell him one day, but not like this, and not hiding behind the subterfuge she had to use now. But he was too young, and it was too soon. And she still had to try and answer his questions.
“I knew him too,” she said sadly, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“Was he nice?” That was always important to Teddy, and Marielle felt a sob lodge in her throat, begging to spring forward, but she wouldn't let it.
“He was very sweet …and very young when he died.” There were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks, and she wasn't sure what to say to Teddy. There was really nothing more to say to him. She just held him close to her, more grateful than ever that she had him. She was frightened too over what Charles had said to her. And she wondered if he meant it. Would he take the boy, to force her to come with him? It was unimaginable. She knew they were empty threats. He would never do anything to hurt Teddy. “I'm sorry we met him today I wanted to have a nice time with you at the boat pond.”
“That's okay.' He smiled up at her. “I always like to be with you.” He always said the thing that melted her heart, and made her love him.
“How about if we go to see Snow White tomorrow?” It was Sunday, and usually Malcolm liked to do paperwork at home, which left her at loose en
ds. And the best part was that Miss Griffin was off, and there would be no interference whatsoever. Teddy would be with Marielle all day, with Betty's help if she needed it, and Edith would baby-sit for him in the evening.
“Wow! Can we do that? Can we really see Snow Whiter
“We sure can. I'll arrange it.” He leapt out of die car when they got home and raced up the front steps as Haverford opened the door for them, and almost smiled as young Master Theodore exploded into the house as he entered.
And as he did so, he almost collided with his father. For a moment, Marielle wondered if he would tell Malcolm about Charles, but he was in too much of a hurry to get to lunch and get ready for the party, and he was much too excited about Snow White to even think about the odd man they had met in Central Park. Teddy was halfway to the third floor before Marielle even got her coat off.
“Where have you two been?” Malcolm asked conversationally. He had been to the office and back. He liked going in on Saturdays, and now he was going to his club for lunch with an old friend visiting from California. They were all rituals he enjoyed, and that were important to him.
“We went to the boat pond, but it was frozen.”
“It must have been awfully chilly,” he said, looking at her, and she nodded.
“You're going out?” she asked, wondering where he was going.
“Yes,” he gave her a businesslike kiss on the cheek, “but don't forget dinner at the Whytes' this evening.” They were giving a Christmas dance, and she was planning to wear a fabulous dress Malcolm had bought her from Madame Grès in Paris. It was all made of tiny, tiny folds of shimmering white satin, and she was going to wear it with diamonds at her throat and ears, silver shoes, and a floor-length ermine coat he'd given her for her birthday. It was quite an outfit.
“Do we have anything tomorrow night too?” Suddenly she couldn't remember. But it reminded him of the note he had just left on her desk that morning.
“I'm leaving for Washington a day early. I want to go down tomorrow afternoon, and have a quiet dinner with the Secretary of Commerce tomorrow night, and be ready for a full day of business with the ambassador on Monday.” In fact, he was so serious about the trip, he was taking both of his secretaries with him. “Is that all right with you?” They both knew it didn't matter if it wasn't, but he was always good about asking, and she was equally so about playing the game, pretending to “allow him.'
“It's fine. I have a date with your son to see Snow White tomorrow afternoon, and we'll have a quiet evening.” She smiled at her husband. His courteous ways were such a relief, after seeing Charles act like a madman.
“You're sure you won't come?”
“We'll be fine here.” She smiled again, and he kissed her forehead.
He signaled to Patrick that he was ready, and the driver went back out to the car to wait for him, as Haverford handed him his homburg. “See you later, my dear. Have a nice afternoon. Rest up for this evening. You don't want to get one of your headaches.” Sometimes she thought they all treated her like a cripple. Of course, the meeting with Charles would have been the perfect spark to provoke one, but she was fine all afternoon. She saw Teddy before and after he went out, and she went upstairs to kiss him again before she went out for the evening. Miss Griffin growled when she did, she felt she had already seen enough of him for one day, but sometimes it was fun to let him see how she looked when she was dressed for the evening, and he loved it. He oohed and aahed over everything she was wearing.
The Madame Grès dress looked sensational on her. It clung to her figure like angels' wings, and Malcolm said she looked like a goddess when he saw her. She won the attention of the Whytes' dinner guests too, everyone was in awe of how she looked, and most of the men told Malcolm how lucky he was to have a wife half his age, and so incredibly lovely.
She was quiet that night on the way home from the party, and he told her again how beautiful she had looked. She smiled her thanks, but she was thinking about Charles and the threats he had made in the park about Teddy. She decided that Charles was just enraged, she was sure that he would never harm a child, hers, or anyone else's. He was just frustrated at her refusal to see him and he didn't know what else to do, except threaten. But she was glad she had decided not to see him. It would have just fanned old flames, and made them both unhappy. Had things been different between them, she would have told Malcolm, but under the circumstances, she knew she couldn't. He had no idea how important Charles had been to her, or that he'd even existed, let alone that they'd been married and had a child, who had died, or what reason Charles might have to resent Teddy.
“You seem preoccupied.” He had noticed it too, but it gave her a dreamy look that made her seem even more beautiful, and for the first time in a long time, he found he wanted her, which surprised him.
“I was just thinking.”
“What about?”
“Nothing special.”
“Well, you look very special to me.” She smiled again, still looking distracted, and for reasons of his own, Malcolm decided not to pursue it.
One of the maids had stayed up to help her undress, and Marielle put her jewelry away, and went to bed. And as she lay there, she thought about Charles and the things he had said in the park …but tonight, when she slept, she didn't dream about Andre …but of Teddy.
Marielle took Teddy to see Snow White the following afternoon. It was playing at the Radio City Music Hall, and they went to Schrafft's for hot chocolate afterward. It was a perfect afternoon for both of them. Teddy said he loved it when Miss Griffin had a day off, which made Marielle wish, more than ever, that she would leave them. It reminded her to broach the subject again with Malcolm. He still thought that Miss Griffin did the boy good, she instilled manners in him, and according to Malcolm, as far as governesses went, there was nobody like the British. But she was far from their minds as Marielle and Teddy drove home again, and that night she gave him a bath in her own enormous marble bathtub, and he loved it. They used tons of bubble bath and got it all over the bathroom, and Edith, the redheaded Irish girl, looked furious when she saw it. She was supposed to be baby-sitting for Teddy that night, but she had long since made other plans with Patrick. They were going to a Christmas dance at the Irish Dance Hall in the Bronx, and she had already gotten Betty, the young kitchenmaid, to agree to come up and baby-sit for him while she went out. And when she got back, she would slip a five-dollar bill into Betty's hand, get into the bed in the nursery spare room, and nobody would be the wiser. So she didn't appreciate the mess they had made, and the fact that she'd have to clean it up before she went anywhere, unless she could get one of the others to do it for her, which was unlikely.
Marielle had dinner with Teddy in the nursery sitting room that night, and she read him a story before he went to bed. Later she sang Christmas carols to him and stroked his hair, and he fell asleep as he lay next to his mother in his red pajamas. It was a far cry from his swift, brisk good nights, and the freezing cold open windows he experienced with Miss Griffin. And Marielle slid gently off his bed so as not to wake him.
As she walked back downstairs to her own rooms, Marielle wondered if she was spoiling him, as Miss Griffin said, and if she was, if it really mattered. Lately, Marielle had been spending more and more time with him, and she seemed to be having trouble keeping her distance. Her old fears about getting too close seemed to have been cast to the winds, and she thrived on being with him. And if she loved him too much, what harm could it do? What difference could it make? She was so lucky to have him. And she refused to let herself believe that anything could happen. Malcolm was right, she worried about too many things, and it was time she stopped it.
She went to bed with a copy of Rebecca, and Malcolm called her from Washington when he returned from dinner. It was after ten o'clock, and he said he had had a delightful evening. He had dined with Harry Hopkins, who would be replacing Daniel Roper as Secretary of Commerce in the next two weeks, although it was still very much a secret. Lo
uis Howe, FDR's right-hand man, had been there too. And they had talked extensively about FDR's feelings about Europe. He was beginning to feel that war was inevitable, but he still hoped that with any luck at all, it could be avoided.
The German ambassador had told Malcolm how well things were going in Berlin. There was no doubt that the German army was stepping up its activities, but he assured Malcolm that his investments were safe there. And when Malcolm questioned him, the ambassador admitted that the business of Kristallnacht had been an embarrassment, but on the other hand what Hitler was doing for Germany industrially could change the entire world for the better. Malcolm was deeply excited to be involved, and he told Marielle that it had been interesting sharing some of the latest developments with Howe and Roper, and the men they'd brought with them. Malcolm colm said he could see an extraordinary future ahead for Germany and all her allies, and Marielle was touched that he had called to share his excitement with her.
He was going back to Germany again soon, and as usual, she was planning to stay home with Teddy.
“How was the movie, by the way?” He loved hearing about the boy. Next to Germany, the child was his greatest passion.
“Teddy loved it.”
“I knew he would. I hear it's terrific. Maybe we'll take him again.” Even though he was away more and more, he still liked doing things with them. She was so sweet to the boy, and it was obvious that despite her other anxieties, she was a good mother. Malcolm yawned then, and Marielle smiled. It had been a long day for him, and not as relaxing as hers, going to the movies, and giving bubble baths to Teddy. As they finished the conversation, she heard an odd noise in the hall, like someone bumping into things, and then footsteps on the stairs. She listened for a minute, but it was quiet again and she decided it was nothing.
“You'd better get some sleep,” she told Malcolm. “You must have a long day ahead tomorrow. Will you be back tomorrow night?” She had forgotten to ask him when he'd left, they had both been so busy.