When Phil returned from the Virgin Islands and she knew they were divorced, she had been euphoric. For a little while. She should be so happy, she rebuked herself. She was free of Phil and Jesse was legally in her sole custody. The business was fantastic. She shouldn’t need any more than that. Life wasn’t meant to be perfect.
When she had driven past the endless miles of cemeteries in nearby Queens, she began to notice the splendor of the scenery—the trees a glorious medley of dark red, brown, and golden leaves. It would be a beautiful weekend out at Montauk, she thought, and all at once her heart was pounding as she envisioned sharing this with David.
Give them one more chance, Kathy told herself, exulting in this decision. She pulled off at the next gas station with a public telephone, called David. There was no response at his home phone, but she caught him at the office.
“I know it’s a last-minute call, but it’s so marvelous up here. I thought you might enjoy getting away from the city. There’s a train at—”
“I’ll drive up,” he said quickly. “I went to hell with myself and bought a car ten days ago. Just give me directions.”
He expected Jesse and Lee to be at the Montauk house with her, she realized. She’d explain that Jesse was with Bella and Lee was spending the weekend with her sister. She was being brazen, yes, but at thirty-five she could afford to be, she thought with shaky bravado. She was giving them one last chance.
She stopped along the way to shop for food, watching the clock because instinct told her David would waste little time getting on the road. Her mind was alternately assaulted by hopes and doubts. Would she drive David away forever when he understood she had deliberately arranged a weekend alone with him?
When she pulled into the garage at the Montauk house, she was conscious of the familiar magic. The ocean was choppy beneath a magnificent October sun—seeming to match her own chaotic emotions. The stretch of beach before the house was deserted except for a cluster of seagulls. The houses on either side—gratifyingly distant from her own—were unoccupied this weekend.
She hurried about the house, opening up windows, putting up a pot of coffee, debating about their luncheon menu. Belatedly—out of cowardice, she admitted to herself—she concocted a story to tell David. Rhoda and Frank were supposed to drive up, too, but she arrived at the house to hear that they were having trouble with the car and couldn’t make it.
She set a table on the deck for luncheon, though the wind made it necessary to anchor napkins beneath the plates. She relished the quiet, unbroken except for the sound of the ocean.
She felt a surge of excitement as she heard a car turn into the driveway. She went onto the deck to welcome David.
“Hi!” She stood in the sunlight with the wind blowing her hair about her face and reveled in the pleasure she saw in his eyes. “Was I wrong about the day?”
“It’s magnificent,” he agreed, running up the steps to the deck. “I’m so glad you called me.”
“Rhoda and Frank had to turn back on the road—some trouble with the car,” she lied.
“That’s rough luck—” But for a revealing instant she saw the glint of excitement in his eyes.
“You’re probably starving. I have lunch ready. Let’s have it on the deck.” As always when she was nervous, she was talking too fast.
“The coffee smells marvelous. Remember the garbage we usually drank in Hamburg?”
“Remember the coffee in Berlin?” She laughed shakily. It was almost as though they were there this moment. “At the Hotel Adlon?”
“I’ve thought about that day so many times,” he said quietly.
They sat down to lunch on the deck. Kathy was confident that before this day was over David would make love to her. He was fighting against it, out of his absurd sense of loyalty to the family. Because the man he called “Uncle Julius” would not approve. But what they felt—and the circumstances—would break down that wall between them, she promised herself.
After a leisurely lunch they walked on the beach.
“I’ll bet the water’s warm,” Kathy said and impulsively reached down to untie her sneakers and kick them off. “Shall we wade?” she challenged him.
“How can we not?” he laughed, caught up in her mood.
The day sped past. There was no question of going out for dinner. While Kathy prepared small miracles with pasta, a marinara sauce, and a tossed salad, and garlic bread was warming in the oven, David was absorbed in coaxing a blaze into being in the kitchen fireplace. There was a tacit understanding in their minds that this weekend belonged to them.
They ate before the fireplace, caught up in memories of the early weeks in Hamburg, before Phil had arrived. Kathy was aware of David’s nearness, waiting for him to reach out and pull her into his arms. It was as though he were slowly building up his resolve to do this.
Together they cleared away the dishes, loaded them into the dishwasher. They stood face to face while the hum of the dishwasher blended with the sound of the rough waves crashing against the shore.
“I have to keep reminding myself that you were Phil’s wife,” he said unevenly, but his hands were at her waist.
“Were, David,” she emphasized. “That’s behind us now.”
“Oh, Kathy, how can we deny ourselves at a moment like this?” he whispered.
“We don’t, David. We don’t,” she said urgently.
Her arms closed in about him as he drew her close and brought his mouth down to hers.
“This is so wrong,” he said painfully when their mouths parted at last.
“David, how can it be wrong?” she protested. “It’s what we both want.”
He lifted her off her feet and carried her into her bedroom. Outside the brisk wind was increasing to storm proportions. The sun had retreated behind darkening clouds. While the elements roared into a Wagnerian crescendo, Kathy and David abandoned themselves to emotions long kept imprisoned.
“Oh, Kathy, Kathy—”
They left the bed to watch the storm over the ocean, and then made love again. It would be a night she would forever remember, Kathy thought, no matter how many nights they had together in the years ahead.
She awoke in the morning and was immediately aware that David was not beside her. In childlike alarm she thrust aside the comforter and left the bed. She paused, a smile lighting her face. David was making coffee in the kitchen. She slid her feet into slippers and reached for a robe.
Last night’s storm had subsided. Sunlight poured into the house. She walked down the hall and into the kitchen. David looked up with a brilliant smile.
“We’ll have coffee, walk on the beach, then I’ll make breakfast for us.” His eyes were tender, yet she sensed he was troubled.
“I’ll go dress,” she said. Why did David look like that?
They walked on the beach with mutual joy, and: returned to the house for breakfast. Yet she knew instinctively that deep within himself David was unhappy. He couldn’t be upset because she had once been Phil’s wife? That was another lifetime. Phil was married again.
Not until after breakfast, while they lounged on chaises on the deck, did David tell her what was troubling him. It was as she had suspected.
“How can I explain to Uncle Julius and Aunt Bella about my feelings for you?” he asked in quiet torment.
“You don’t have to explain.” She struggled to remain calm.
“In the eyes of the family I’m siding with you against Phil. To them this is wrong. And Uncle Julius has been so good to me.”
“Oh David, wake up!” Her voice was involuntarily harsh. “Julius Kohn is a monster.”
“Kathy, don’t say that,” he rejected. Shocked by her outburst. “He and Aunt Bella took me in when I had to run from the Nazis. They—”
“Julius Kohn swindled you out of a fortune!” Kathy’s longtime rage erupted. “He’s never done anything for anyone except himself. He—”
“Kathy, you can’t say that about Uncle Julius!” David stared at her a
s though he had never seen her before. “He took me into his home when my parents sent me out of Germany. Without him I would never have gotten through college and medical school.”
“David, how can you be so blind?” Kathy fought against exasperation. “You owe him nothing. You—”
“Uncle Julius and Aunt Bella are my family—all that remains of generations of Kohns. I owe them my life.”
“Bella is a warm, sweet woman, and I love her,” Kathy told him. “But I can’t bear to see you swearing loyalty to a man who deserves only your contempt.”
“I’m sorry.” His face was cold and set. “I can’t stay here and listen to you talk this way. I’m driving back to New York.”
Kathy’s face was ashen as she stood at a window a few minutes later and watched David pull out of the garage. This time it was over for them forever. There was no turning back.
Chapter 34
KATHY WAS AT HER desk by 8 A.M.—a common occurrence at rush business periods—because she had awakened before six after a night of broken sleep. She had come early to the office in a determination to push out of her mind the calamitous conclusion to what had seemed a perfect weekend with David.
She struggled to focus on business. In a burst of exasperation she left her desk to brew a cup of instant coffee. Why had she behaved so stupidly? All these years she’d managed to keep her silence, even while she fumed at David’s misplaced loyalty. A few careless sentences, and she’d destroyed everything between them.
At close to nine Marge arrived. She and Marge were almost always the first to arrive, the last to leave. But they had a dedicated staff, she thought with pride. In a crunch everybody pitched in to get the work done.
“You were carousing yesterday,” Marge drawled. “I called you three times and you didn’t answer.”
“I went out to Montauk,” Kathy said somberly. “Come in and let me tell you my tale of woe.”
Marge listened sympathetically while Kathy talked about the reunion with David and its ultimate outcome.
“Marge, it’s fate,” Kathy said painfully. “I should know by now.”
“Bullshit,” Marge scolded. “It was a landmark occasion—you and David had your first fight.”
“The first and last,” Kathy said with a towering sense of loss. “I tried—I was aggressive—but I screwed up.”
“David’s too bright and sensitive not to wake up to the truth,” Marge comforted. “He’ll think things through and know you’re right.”
“When?” Kathy challenged. “When I’m ninety?”
“Men can be jugheaded,” Marge conceded. “All this talk—all the articles now about how women are coming into their own at last—but what guy wants to hear about it? To the average male any woman with brains is a queer duck. And a successful woman is either an affront to their manhood—or the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”
“Forget the lot of them.” Kathy opened a folder and pulled out a report. “Let’s figure out our spring promotion for the Atlanta and Palm Beach stores.”
David checked his watch as he changed into a fresh shirt for the evening. He was tired from the sixty-five-hour weeks at the office and would have preferred to have dinner and collapse with a book. Still, he knew he couldn’t turn down his uncle’s request to fill in as his aunt’s escort to dinner and the theater tonight.
Uncle Julius and Phil were entertaining out-of-town buyers, he recalled. Not even hard-to-get theater tickets would stand in the way of business. The three of them were alike in that, David told himself. Their work came before all else.
But he had been tense and insomniac since the weekend at Montauk five weeks ago. He’d flown off the handle that way because he’d been so uptight about an experiment that was driving him up the wall. But how could he stand by and let Kathy vilify Uncle Julius that way?
He reached for a topcoat—the November night was cold—and hurried from the apartment. Aunt Bella had suggested meeting him at the restaurant, but he insisted on picking her up at the company apartment where she was staying for a few days. Part of his European childhood, he thought humorously.
Bella was waiting for him, beautifully dressed as always and wearing her trademark diamond necklace.
“I felt guilt at Julius’s drafting you this way,” she said while he held her sable coat for her, “but then I remembered how hard you work and that you probably need a night of relaxation.”
Wally was waiting downstairs with the limousine to drive them to the Colony. He would return in time to drive them to the theater. Seated at their table David and Bella focused on ordering dinner. Then Bella launched into talk about Jesse, whom she obviously adored.
“I never thought I would be a fatuous grandmother,” she mocked herself good-humoredly. “I wasn’t that way with my granddaughters. But there’s something about Jesse. He reflects the love and understanding Kathy has lavished on him through the years. I’ll never really forgive myself for raising my kids the way I did. But Kathy isn’t making my mistakes.”
“Jesse’s special,” David agreed. Kathy was special. He’d known that since those days aboard the ship that took them to Hamburg.
“I’m absolutely disgusted with Phil’s new wife,” Bella confided. “Not just because she’s the same age as two of his nieces, but because she doesn’t give a damn about Phil except for what he can do for her career.”
“A lot of young women today are obsessed by career,” David said softly.
“Kathy has a career, and a damn successful one. But she’s a fine human being. I don’t know how Phil could have treated Kathy the way he did.” For a moment her face was taut with grim recall, then, unexpectedly, she chuckled. “It was the biggest shock of Julius and Phil’s lives when Kathy left Phil without taking her diamond and sapphire necklace. I told Phil if he gives Kathy’s necklace to his new wife, I’ll never speak to him again.”
“I—I was shocked when I learned Kathy and Phil had broken up.”
“Kathy married the wrong Kohn,” Bella said softly. “She deserved better.” Her eyes met his with warmth and compassion.
Aunt Bella knew, he thought. How had they given him away? She knew, and she approved.
“I’ve always found my own diamond necklace a great consolation prize.” David was grateful that she was diverting the conversation. But her message was clear. She saw nothing wrong in his loving Kathy. “The others don’t know it, but I’ve willed my necklace to Kathy. Julius was so proud of having bought the diamonds as stones from a young Jewish refugee back in 1937—” She paused and David tensed, a pulse suddenly throbbing at his temple. “He was so smug because he’d bought them at a fraction of their worth. But you know Julius and his bargains—”
David was cold with sudden, bitter comprehension. Those were the diamonds his father gave to him through the barbed wire fence at Salzburg. Kathy had been right. She had tried to make him understand, and he had walked out on her.
Kathy forced a smile while Jesse talked enthusiastically about the school trip that was to take place today, but the aromas of food were making her faintly queasy. She always waited until around ten for breakfast, brought in routinely by her assistant, but she made a practice of having a “wake-up” cup of coffee with Jesse and Lee before leaving for the office. This morning she abandoned the coffee after a few sips.
“You look like you could do with some sleep,” Lee scolded. “You haven’t stopped yawning since you sat at the table.”
“I feel as though I could sleep around the clock,” she admitted.
“But you won’t,” Jesse guessed. “Mom, the office won’t fall apart if you stay home and sleep this morning.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she laughed and pushed back her chair. “Enjoy the school trip, darling.”
The cab that picked her up each morning was just drawing up at the curb when she walked out of the building. Seated in the cab she leaned back and closed her eyes. It was ridiculous to feel so tired. Was she coming down with a virus? She had no time fo
r that, she thought querulously. Then—with dizzying suddenness—suspicion took root in her mind.
That was ridiculous. She couldn’t be pregnant. But of course, she could, her mind taunted. Occasionally she was late, she told herself—that meant nothing. But being late and feeling this way was unnerving. She glanced at her watch. Please, no traffic tie-ups this morning. She needed to talk to Marge.
She waited impatiently at her desk for Marge to arrive.
“Marge!” She hurried from her desk to the door as she saw Marge appear in the hallway.
“Let me dump my coat and get some coffee—” Marge was already pulling off her coat.
“Now,” Kathy said agitatedly and beckoned Marge into her office.
“What’s up?” Marge asked in alarm while Kathy closed the door behind her.
“I think I’m pregnant.” Marge knew about the weekend with David. “Of course, it may just be early menopause—”
“At thirty-five?” Marge scoffed, her face aglow with tenderness. “Sweetie, call David!”
“I can’t,” she hedged. “Besides, I’m not even sure.”
“Go for a pregnancy test.” Marge was practical. “You’ll know tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t tell a soul,” Kathy warned. “It’s probably nothing.” Yet deep inside she prayed that she was pregnant. That she was carrying David’s baby. Somehow, she would manage her life.
“Get on the phone with your doctor,” Marge ordered. “Tell her to send you for a pregnancy test. Neither of us can survive more than twenty-four hours of uncertainty!”
The following morning Marge was waiting with her to make the phone call to her doctor’s office.
“Marge, I’m scared,” Kathy whispered, her eyes focused on her watch. Her doctor had told her to call at 10 A.M.—she would have the lab reports. “Maybe I’m not pregnant. Maybe it’s an ulcer, or cancer.”
“Call,” Marge said matter-of-factly. But Kathy knew that she, too, was anxious.
Kathy dialed and waited. Moments later she was speaking with her doctor.
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