You look beautiful, you know, Aud ' . Somehow, she never thought of her that way, but she was ' she really was. It actually surprised her. It wasn't often she really thought about Audrey. She was always there, just as she always had been.
Audrey looked at her happily, satisfied with her months of work, her years of love. Annabelle had grown up to be just what she should have been, and now she would be Harcourt's wife, and live happily ever after, in Burlingame. It was what she was suited for, what she wanted to do. She would be a pretty little wife to him and she would settle down now ' settle down ' the words echoed in Audrey's head and she could almost feel a chill. She had always hated those words ' settle down. To her, it sounded like dying.
Are you happy, Annie? She searched her younger sister's eyes. For so many years now she had cared for her ' making sure she went out warmly dressed ' that she had her favorite dolly when she went to bed at night ' and didn't have nightmares anymore ' that she was never alone ' that her friends were always nice to her ' that she went to a school she liked ' Audrey had fought Grandfather tooth and nail about that. She hadn't wanted to board at Katherine Branson's across the bay, she had wanted to go to Miss Hamlin's, and she had ' Audrey had seen to everything, right down to today, to the last detail of the magnificent dress. And she wanted her to be happy now. She had always wanted that for her ' too much perhaps ' she had spoiled her over the years, probably more than their parents would have, but she always seemed like such a little girl. And she still did, even now. Audrey's eyes searched her face, wanting to be sure that Annie felt she was doing the right thing. You love him, don't you?
Annabelle's laughter rang out like a little silver bell in the front hall, as she stood surrounded by her white veil, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung there. She was fascinated by what she saw ' she had never seen anything more beautiful than her gown, and her voice sounded vague now as she answered her sister. Of course I love him, Aud ' more than anything ' .
You're sure? It seemed like such an enormous step to Audrey, and it was. But Annie didn't even seem frightened, just excited.
Hmm? ' She was adjusting her veil, and her grandfather made his way down the stairs to the car on the butler's arm.
Annie? ' Audrey felt a nervous flutter in her stomach as she watched her. What if ' if she weren't doing the right thing? Had she pushed Annabelle into this? Had anyone else, by insisting it was the right match for her? And what did that matter? She wouldn't have been swayed by that herself, but Annabelle '
Her younger sister turned to her with a dazzling smile, and for an instant, Audrey felt relieved. You worry too much, Aud ' this is the happiest day of my life. And for an instant their eyes met and held. She did look happy, Audrey had to admit to herself. But happy enough? And then suddenly she smiled. Annabelle was right. She did worry too much. It just seemed such an incredibly big step to take. She wondered why Annabelle wasn't afraid, but it was clear she was not, as she reached out and took her sister's hand, in her own, tightly bound in the creamy kid glove. And her eyes were serious now. I'll miss you, Aud ' . Audrey had thought of it, too. It was going to be so strange having her gone. For fourteen years she had taken care of her as though she were her own child, and now she would be gone. She felt more like the mother of the bride than the maid of honor as they stood for one last moment in the front hall, as the cable car rumbled by outside.
Burlingame isn't very far, you know. But her eyes filled with tears anyway, and she reached out and gave Annabelle a gentle hug, not wanting to crush her veil. I love you, Annie ' I hope you'll be happy with Harcourt.
Annabelle only smiled again as she pulled away and started out the front door, whispering over her shoulder, Of course I will.
The horn of their grandfather's Rolls-Royce sounded, and he was fuming as Annabelle settled her voluminous dress in the car around them. It enveloped them all and there was hardly enough room for all three of them.
Expect them to wait all day in the church, do you? Her grandfather barked at her, squeezing the head of his cane in his hands. But it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was moved by how lovely she looked. She reminded him far too much of a bride he had seen twenty-six years before. She had been even prettier than this child ' the girl who had married his son Roland ' it was eerie how much Annabelle looked like her. And he felt as though he had traveled back in time as he stood in the church beside Audrey watching Annabelle say her vows and look happily up at Harcourt.
There were tears sliding slowly down Audrey's cheeks as she watched her younger sister getting married, and she felt her eyes swim again as she watched her grandfather lead her out in a slow, graceful waltz a little while later at the reception. It was difficult to remember that he normally walked with a cane and he seemed to have forgotten it too as he moved her elegantly around the floor and then deposited her at last with her husband. He stood looking lost for only a moment and then moved slowly away, suddenly looking very old again as Audrey touched his arm.
May I have this dance, Mr. Driscoll? Audrey stood almost as tall as he, as their eyes met and he smiled. And the love they shared was obvious in the look they exchanged. There was a strange poignant feeling to this day, as though Annabelle's leaving was binding them closer together, almost like a marriage of their own, and they both felt it.
And after a few turns on the dance floor, she led him gently to a chair, without making him feel old and infirm. She insisted that she had to check up on a few things behind the scenes, and as usual, she did a fine job. Everyone commented on how lovely the reception was, and when Annabelle had left at last in a shower of rose petals and rice, in a white wool suit, Audrey looked pleased at the way it had gone. They shook hands with the remaining guests and she went home with her grandfather in the Rolls.
It seemed years since they had left the house that morning, and Audrey herself was exhausted as they sat in front of the fireplace in the library as the fog rolled inexorably in, and they listened to the foghorns in the distance.
It was pretty, wasn't it, Grampa? She barely managed to stifle a yawn as she sipped the little glass of sherry he had poured her. The rest of the guests had consumed gallons of champagne from his private stock, which had been discreetly brought to the hotel, but she had actually drunk very little and the sherry relaxed her now as she stared into space and thought of her sister's wedding ' the little girl she had cared for, for all those years, and now suddenly she was gone. She and Harcourt were staying in a suite at the Mark Hopkins tonight and in the morning they were taking the train to New York, where they would board the Ile de France on their way to Europe. Audrey had promised to see them off at the train, and as she thought of it, she felt a shaft of envy slice through her, not for what they would share with each other, but for the trip they would take. It wasn't an itinerary she would have planned, but she suddenly realized that she envied them the escape. And with a feeling of sudden guilt, she glanced at her grandfather, as though fearing that he might have read her mind. It seemed unfair to be so anxious to get away, but there were times when her desire to see something new almost overwhelmed her. There were times when dreamy nights spent turning the pages of her father's albums just weren't enough ' she wanted more ' she wanted to be one of those people in the pictures on those fading pages.
We ought to take a trip together one of these days. The words blurted out of her mouth before she could stop them, and her grandfather looked at her, startled.
A trip? To where? They had been planning to go to Lake Tahoe in August. They always did. But he instantly suspected she meant something more, and something about the way she said it reminded him far too much of Roland.
To Europe maybe, like we did in '25 ' or back to Hawaii ' . And the Orient from there, she wanted to add, but she didn't dare to say it.
Why would we want to do that? He looked annoyed, but it wasn't annoyance he was feeling, it was fear. He didn't mind losing Annabelle, but he was terrified of losing Audrey. Life wouldn't have bee
n the same without her, without her competent hand, sharp mind, her way of perceiving things, and the wonderful battles they had shared for almost two decades now. I'm too old to go traveling halfway around the world.
Then let's go to New York. Her eyes lit up, and for a moment, he almost felt sorry for her. There wasn't much she could do on her own, and most of the girls she had gone to school with had long since been married. Most of them had two or three children already, and husbands who could take them wherever they wanted to go. Audrey was still waiting in the wings for a man who seemed now as though he was not destined to appear, and in some ways Edward Driscoll felt guilty. It was no wonder she had never found a man. She was too busy running his home and taking care of her sister. But now at least she was gone ' he felt no regrets at all, as he looked at Audrey's pretty face, the peach silk hat cast aside now, and her thick brandy-colored hair cascading to her shoulders. She was a damn pretty girl ' a fine-looking woman, he added silently to himself. Well, why not? She was looking at him expectantly, and he had forgotten what she'd said, but she seemed to expect an answer.
Why not what? He looked both confused and annoyed, and Audrey realized that he was tired after the long day, and he'd probably had a little too much champagne, not that it would do him any harm, and he was drinking a cognac now. But he was by no means drunk, as she looked at him hopefully.
Why not go to New York, Grandpa? We could go in September when we come back from the lake.
Why would we want to do that? But he knew why. He had been young once ' he had had a wife ' she hadn't been all that fond of tramping about, though. It was Roland who had had that bug, their only son, and God only knew where he'd gotten his hunger for travel and adventure. It was probably in Audrey's blood, Edward Driscoll mourned silently to himself, but it had killed his son and he wasn't about to let Audrey indulge it. New York's a damn unhealthy place, too crowded, and too far away. You'll feel better after you get to the lake, Audrey. You always do. Edward Driscoll glanced at his watch then, and stood up with only a slight wobble in his knees. It had been a big day for him, not that he was likely to admit it. I'm going up to bed, and you'd best do the same, my dear. You've had a long day, getting that child married off. He patted her arm on their way upstairs, which was an unusual gesture for him, and that night he stood at his bedroom window, watching the lights shine in hers, wondering what she was doing, and what she was thinking. He would have been startled had he seen her sitting at her dressing table, staring into space, her pearls in her hand, thinking of the trip she wanted to take, halfway around the world and of the pictures she longed to take when she got there. Her grandfather, this house, her sister, the wedding, all were forgotten as Audrey sat and dreamed, and then at last, she shook herself back to the present, stood up, stretched, and went to her dressing room to get undressed. It was only a few minutes later when she slid between the cool sheets and closed her eyes trying not to think of all she had to do the next day. She had promised to take care of everything for Annabelle while she was away ' overseeing the new house ' the painters ' the furniture due to arrive ' the wedding gifts to put away ' as always, she would do it all ' as always ' faithful Audrey ' she drifted off to sleep dreaming of Annabelle and Harcourt ' and a house on a tropical island as her grandfather shouted to her from the distance ' Come back ' come back ' but she wouldn't.
Chapter 3
Typically, in spite of the three weeks she spent at Lake Tahoe at the Driscoll summer home, Audrey managed to have everything in order for Annabelle and Harcourt when they returned in late September. There was a small but adequate staff in the pretty little stone house that Harcourt had bought for them. The rooms were painted in the colors Annabelle had wanted, the furniture was in place, their car had even been serviced and Audrey had seen to it herself that it was started regularly so that the battery didn't die in their absence.
Your sister certainly does know how to run a house, doesn't she? Harcourt commented at breakfast after their first night back, and Annabelle smiled at him. She was happy he was pleased. She had been afraid that he would be angry with her for letting Audrey do it all, but she did it all so well, why not let her? Harcourt appeared to agree. Although, on California Street at that exact moment, no one was praising her domestic skills. Her grandfather was ranting about his eggs being overcooked and his tea not being made properly, and what was more, he hadn't had a decent breakfast in weeks, he roared. They had a new cook and he was harassing Audrey that she wasn't as good as the last one.
Can't you find a decent cook for this house? Am I expected to eat food like this for the rest of my days, or is it that you're trying to kill me? Audrey repressed a smile at the tirade, he had been saying the same thing for days and she was already looking for someone else to replace the new cook he didn't like. She was used to it and this morning she was more preoccupied with what she had read in the papers. The average weekly wage was down to less than seventeen dollars from twenty-eight dollars only three years before, and there were breadlines everywhere. Some five thousand banks had failed, more than eighty thousand businesses had gone bust, and so many people had committed suicide. The state of the nation was becoming more and more disastrous. And the statistics in the morning paper were frightening. The gross national product had fallen to half its level of three years before. It was really an impossible situation, and her brow was furrowed as she drank her coffee.
I don't know how you can continue to ignore what's going on, Grandfather. She only called him that when she was angry with him, and she was angry at what was happening to the country and his continued defense of Herbert Hoover.
If you spent more time paying attention to what goes on in this house and less time noticing what goes on in the world, we'd have a better cook, and I would have a decent breakfast.
Most people have no breakfast at all. Have you thought of that? She was on one of her rampages, he knew. But he didn't mind. Secretly, he enjoyed them. The country's going all to hell.
Has been for years, Audrey. That's nothing new. And it isn't exclusive to this country either. He poked a finger at the newspaper. Says here that Germany is crawling with unemployed, and so is England. They have it too. So what? You expect me to sit home and cry about it?
That was the frustrating thing, there was so little one could do. At least you could vote intelligently.
I don't like what you call intelligence. He glared at her, but he was raving mad when the election results came in and Roosevelt had beaten Hoover by taking sixty percent of the vote. Audrey was delighted and they had had a rousing row. They were still fighting about it that night when Annabelle and Harcourt came to dinner, and then proceeded to leave early. She said that their political conversations gave her a headache, but she managed to confide her secret to Audrey nonetheless. She was expecting a baby in May, and Audrey was delighted for her. She was going to be an aunt. It was an odd thought as she walked her grandfather upstairs that night, still muttering about Hoover's defeat. But she wasn't listening to him now, she was thinking about Annabelle and her baby. Annie would be twenty-one when the baby was born ' twenty-one ' and she had everything she always wanted. And Audrey was twenty-five and had accomplished nothing at all. It began to depress her as the rainy season set in, and even the books she read seemed gloomy. But as Annabelle's pregnancy advanced, she was too busy to be gloomy. There was so much to do, the layette to buy, the nursery to set up, the baby nurse to hire, and Annie was too tired to do much of it herself. As usual, Audrey did it all for her. And just after their grandfather's eighty-first birthday, the baby was born, a big, healthy boy who didn't seem to have caused his mother too much trouble. Audrey was the first to see them both, after Harcourt, of course, and she saw to it that everything was in order at the house before Annie and the baby came home from the hospital two weeks later.
Audrey was standing in the nursery folding a little pile of blue blankets and taking a quick inventory of little Winston's new world when Harcourt stopped in the doorway. I thoug
ht I'd find you here. His eyes bored into hers as though he had something to say to her, and Audrey turned, surprised. They seldom had much to say to each other. Most of Audrey's dealings were with her sister. Don't you ever get tired of doing things for her? He walked slowly into the room and Audrey set down the little pile of blue blankets as she shook her head, and smiled.
Not really. I've been doing it for a long time.
And you're going to go on doing it forever? It seemed an odd question and there was something strange in his voice as he advanced toward her and she suddenly wondered if he had been drinking.
I've never given it much thought. I enjoy taking care of things for Annie.
Oh? He raised an eyebrow and stood so close to her in the sunny little nursery that Audrey could almost feel his breath on her face, and then suddenly he reached out and touched her. His hand was gentle on her cheek, as he drifted a finger lazily to her lips, and then tried to pull her toward him. For an instant, shocked at what he was doing, she didn't resist, and then, just as quickly, she pulled away, avoiding his lips, which brushed her silky hair, and then he reached out and grabbed her waist with two powerful hands as she tried to escape him.
Harcourt, stop it!
Don't be such a prude ' you're twenty-six years old for chrissake, are you going to play spinster virgin forever? It was an unkind thing to say and his words hurt her more than his hands as he pulled on her hair, and tilted her mouth up to his so he could kiss her. Her protests were garbled as he did, and she pushed him away with more force now, beginning to look very angry.
Harcourt, dammit, stop! She wrenched herself away from him, breathless, and moved instinctively to the other side of the room, the baby's crib between them. Are you crazy?
Wanderlust (1986) Page 3