“You better go over to your fax machine, Howard,” Kate said, “because I’m sending over a contract. So if you don’t want anyone to see it—”
“That fast? A contract that fast?”
“And not to pressure you, but I need an answer before the end of Monday.”
“Monday,” he repeated.
By four-thirty Howard had sent everyone in the office home early for the weekend so that he was alone when the accountant came in. “Thank God you’ve dealt with everything,” the accountant said as they went over the latest set of agency numbers. “It makes it all the less likely you will get into this position again.”
Howard felt his dander rise but said nothing except what he needed to say, which was “I have to know by Monday if the deal can work.”
Howard, Amanda, Emily and Teddy made homemade pizza and salad and played Pictionary on the floor in front of the fire in the living room. Howard was not sure if he had ever been happier in his life. It was going to work out. He really knew that for sure now. They heard the children’s prayers, put them to bed and kissed them good-night. Only then did they pour a glass of wine and return to the living room to talk. “I’ve got news, Amanda,” Howard said almost immediately.
“You sold something,” she guessed.
“It’s what I’m thinking of selling. I’m thinking about selling the agency back to the Hillingses, for their grandson.”
She frowned.
“The whole thing.”
It took a moment for Amanda to recover. “But you’ve worked so hard, Howard. It’s called Hillings & Stewart for a reason.”
“After this restructuring I don’t think I want to do it anymore. It won’t be the same.”
Amanda took a sip of her wine. “So what would you do? Stay on as an agent and let their grandson run the business?”
“Well, that’s just it.” He smiled. “I’ve been offered a job, Amanda. To be an editor again. To take Kate Weston’s place as editor in chief of Bennett, Fitzallen & Coe.”
“Editor in chief!” Amanda cried. The light that appeared in her eyes told Howard what he needed to know. “Oh, darling!” She hastily put her glass down to throw her arms around him. She kissed him several times and then sat back a few inches to ask, “Are you going to accept this position?”
“The salary falls right down the middle of my best year and worst year,” he said.
“Howard, you made negative I don’t know how much last year,” Amanda pointed out.
“My best year I made nearly four hundred.”
She did the math. “A hundred-sixty?”
“They’ve offered two hundred. A regular paycheck, profit sharing and full major medical for all of us. And Kate’s offering me a three-year contract. I brought it home for us to look over together.”
She hugged and kissed him again. “So you’ll be the editor in chief and Kate will be publisher?”
He nodded. “We’re fairly like-minded, editorially, but she’s going to be wrapped up with a lot more administrative tasks now. That’s why she offered it to me.”
“But it’s been such a long time since you worked for anyone, Howard. Are you sure you’re going to be happy?”
“I’m sure going to like Kate better than the boss I have now,” he joked.
She put her hand on his arm. “I’m serious, darling. I don’t want this episode in our life to push you into taking a job that will make you unhappy.”
“Amanda, honest to God, I miss being an editor. And with the restructuring of the agency—”
“You’ll have much less time working with the writers,” she finished for him.
“At Bennett, Fitzallen & Coe I’ll be overseeing the editors and overall list, but I still get my own list. And frankly I have a few writers I’d like to bring there. I know exactly what to do with them, how to break them out.” He rattled on for a while, discussing his ideas about what he could do and what might happen down the road if Kate Weston ever left.
“I think it sounds as though you’ve already come to a decision, Howard.”
He smiled, wrapping a strand of Amanda’s hair around his finger. “I love you so much.”
“And I, you.” Her eyes were sparkling. She raised her glass. “May you always be happy in your work, Howard Stewart, and may your wife always be hopelessly in love with you.”
“Hear, hear,” he said.
51
Cassy and Rosanne Finally Talk
“I THINK THAT’S the last of it,” Cassy said to Howard Stewart, pointing to the boxes by the door.
Howard wheeled the handcart over. “How’s Rosanne doing?”
“Once this is finally out of here, I think she’ll be fine,” Cassy said. “She and Jason are sleeping over at the other apartment tonight.”
Howard nodded. His job was to take Mrs. Goldblum’s clothes and shoes to a charity in the morning. “You know that Amanda would have helped tonight, but seeing Mrs. Goldblum’s things—”
“I know,” Cassy said. “I wish Rosanne had just let me take care of it. It was very hard on her.”
“Whispering about me again, Mrs. C?” Rosanne said, coming down the hall with her arms full of sheets and blankets.
“Cassy was just saying this is the last of the boxes,” Howard said.
Rosanne continued into the kitchen and Howard said good-night. Cassy headed into the kitchen to find Rosanne standing by the double-decker washer-dryer. She had dropped the bedclothes in a heap on the floor and was just standing there. “I wish you would leave that for now,” Cassy said. “I think we could both do with a little rest.”
“Almost twelve years,” Rosanne said. “Do you know that’s the longest I’ve ever lived in one place?”
Cassy finally persuaded her to leave everything and when they emerged outside it was to find it eerily warm. “You can’t tell me we haven’t messed with the weather,” Rosanne said, craning her neck to look up at the night sky. “It feels weird, doesn’t it?”
They saw streaks of lightning over New Jersey and then heard thunder. They walked down the Drive, each in her own thoughts. When they turned the corner of 88th Street they ran into Jason coming out of 162. With a girl. “Mom, this is my friend Allyson from school.”
Rosanne extended her hand. “Hello, Allyson.”
“This is my mom,” Jason added. “And that’s Mrs. C.”
She was a sweet-looking girl with reddish hair pulled back in a French braid. “Hi.”
“So where might you be going at this time of night?” Rosanne said, sounding remarkably like Mrs. Goldblum.
“I’m walking Allyson home. We had to do an Asian studies paper.”
After the young people continued on their way Cassy remarked that Jason’s friend seemed like a nice girl. “She did seem nice,” Rosanne said. “I wonder if she’s going to college.”
They went upstairs to the old Cochran apartment. As tired as they were, they started walking around the apartment, taking inventory of things Cassy was willing to leave if Rosanne wanted them. “We have to think down the road, Rosanne,” Cassy said, opening the cabinets in the kitchen. “Someday there will be a new place for you and at some point Jason’s going to need things for an apartment.” They went through flatware, pots and pans and dishes.
They eventually made their way to Henry’s old room. “Are you sure he’s not going to want this?” Rosanne asked, running her hand over the top of the faux-Stickley headboard.
“It doesn’t seem to hold any particular significance for him,” Cassy said. “And it would cost heaven and earth to ship across the country. You’re welcome to the dresser, as well.”
“This is great,” Rosanne murmured, walking over to the dresser. “I knew there was a reason why I was careful to use scratch cover on it for all those years.”
They laughed.
“I really oughta pay you something.”
“Rosanne, honestly, I will only give it to someone else. Besides, it would give Henry enormous pleasure to know that you o
r Jason liked it.”
“It’s really great,” she said, opening a drawer.
Cassy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame. “Rosanne, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
“Are you taking the rug?” Rosanne asked, surveying it.
“Please, it’s yours. I got it cleaned not long ago.”
Rosanne squatted to examine it more closely.
Cassy hesitated. “I guess you’ve heard that Jackson and I have separated.”
“Only me and the rest of the civilized world,” Rosanne said, reaching over to pull up the edge of the rug to look at the flip side. “I should definitely pay you something for this.”
“I’m not living next door anymore, Rosanne,” Cassy added.
“And you’re getting divorced,” Rosanne said, standing up. She glanced over. “I know that’s not for public consumption yet, Mrs. C. I haven’t said anything to anyone.”
“How did you know?” Cassy asked as Rosanne crossed the room to the closet and opened the door.
“Henry told me.” Rosanne closed the door and turned around, planting a hand on her hip. “I’m sorry Mr. D turned out to be such a dirty rat.”
Cassy had to laugh. “He’s not a dirty rat, Rosanne, though I do appreciate your loyalty.”
“You know you can’t leave the neighborhood or Mrs. G will come back from the grave to haunt you.”
“We’ll see.”
Rosanne pointed at the picture hanging over the bed.
“Absolutely,” Cassy said, “if you like it.” She pushed off the door frame. “Let me show you the desk I was talking about.”
“Waaait a minute,” Rosanne said, turning fully around. “You just skipped, like, the whole thing.”
“What whole thing?” Cassy said, coming back.
“Like how Henry knew it was Alexandra Waring.”
Cassy felt herself blush. “Oh,” she said, sagging against the doorway.
“Well, do ya want to know the story behind Henry knowing or not?”
Finally she nodded. “Yes, I would.”
“Well, ya see, Mrs. C,” Rosanne said, crossing her arms over her chest, “way back when, in ancient olden times, there was a boy who came to me who was scared his mother might run away with her friend.”
Cassy was thunderstruck. “What?” she said, straightening up.
Rosanne nodded. “He knew without really knowing what it was that he knew. Does that make any sense?”
Cassy gripped the doorway with her left hand. She felt as though the world was turning upside down.
“He was scared that if you left Mr. C then something really bad was going to happen to his father because he was so sick and you were the only one who ever cared. And you were the only one who was ever there. Except for the boy.”
Cassy could only look at Rosanne.
“He was also scared you might make him leave with you, which would mean leaving Mr. C by himself.”
Cassy finally found her voice. “Where does Alexandra come into it?”
“He heard her asking you to move in with her.”
Cassy dropped her face into her hand. Finally she said, “Good Lord, I had no idea.”
“That’s when he came to me. But it all worked out,” Rosanne added brightly. Cassy raised her head. “Because I guessed right. I told him he had nothing to worry about because you’d never walk out. And that Alexandra just wanted to make sure you guys knew you always had somewhere to go if things got really bad.” Rosanne shook her head. “He never put it together, Mrs. C. Not until you talked to him a couple weeks ago.”
Cassy looked down at the floor for a long moment. “What must you think of me?”
“Don’t tell me you’d really like to know because I just might tell ya.”
“Then perhaps you should.”
“I’ll tell ya this much, it’s about time you picked someone you know is right for you instead of someone you think you’re supposed to think is right for you. If you know what I mean.”
Cassy’s head kicked back a little, a slight smile emerging on her face. “Yes. I do know what you mean.”
“And you know what they always say, Mrs. C, don’t you?” Rosanne continued.
“No. What is it that they always say, Rosanne?”
She grinned. “Third time’s a charm.”
52
Conclusion
THE PAINTING OF the Arab, the camel and the vulture that scared the Stewart children fetched sixteen thousand dollars at the Christie’s auction. “I made a sixteen hundred dollar commission!” Celia Cavanaugh told her parents. (“Don’t forget a Schedule C on your taxes next year!” Mr. Cavanaugh told his daughter.)
While Celia’s life has not miraculously sorted itself out she is definitely a promising work-in-progress. With the encouragement of her parents, her roommate and Amanda Stewart, she has created the rudimentary outlines of what might one day become an antiques business. In the meantime she’s sold things on eBay and some of Amanda’s items through an auction house.
The really, really big news is that Celia took two classes at Columbia over the summer with plans to re-enroll full-time in the fall with a dual major in history and business. She was also pleasantly surprised to be offered the three most lucrative shifts at Captain Cook’s while she attends school.
Shortly after Jason DiSantos really did turn eighteen he returned to Captain Cook’s to wait tables over the summer. He was by this time in love with his classmate Allyson and Celia became his confidante and romance counselor. When Jason started making noises over the summer that maybe he didn’t want to go to Penn after all, but to a school closer to where Allyson would be, in Massachusetts, it was Celia who got Jason back on track before his mother went completely off the deep end.
With the exception of Jason’s ever-changing love life Rosanne’s summer was an extremely busy but happy one. She resigned from her job at the hospital and took immediate charge of Samuel (although his grandmother was more than eager to take him). Since Rosanne had never been able to be a full-time mother to Jason she is somewhat fascinated by the experience. In the park she has bonded not with the nannies but with the other mothers who like to talk about what career paths they might pursue when the children are older. Rosanne has picked up some good ideas and is almost positive it will be a business of her own, having to do with the placement of LPNs, nurses’ aides, housekeepers and companions in the homes of the elderly.
In the beginning of July little Grace Stewart began arriving at ten in the morning and that’s when things became interesting. Still, on Saturday nights, Rosanne sees Randy and she’s beginning to wonder if perhaps there might be a future there after all.
Althea Wyatt negotiated a limited partnership at her firm so that she has a relatively reliable schedule to care for her son. Her parents are still planning to take early retirement but it becomes increasingly doubtful how much time they’ll actually spend away from Manhattan while their grandson is living there. Never having had a son of his own, Sam is amassing a rather formidable collection of sporting equipment for the future, which he always claims is on sale.
The situation with Samantha Wyatt will take time to heal. She only came home once over the summer and did not go to see Samuel. She is living in an off-campus apartment and the Wyatts are upset because they think Steve Culmathson is still on the scene. But Sam and Harriet just keep calling and writing to Samantha, telling her their news and expressing their love for her. Althea sends a card to Samantha once in a while, but doesn’t talk to her; Althea has no desire to talk to her sister, she says, until Samantha at least acknowledges that Althea is a mother.
Amanda Miller Stewart has seemingly been reborn since the day her family was permanently reunited under one roof. (Her happiness does much to smooth the family’s readjustment to living in significantly less space.) She has put her book on the court of Catherine the Great aside to assist two writers in the adaptation of her biography into a script.
She drops Grace off with Rosanne and Samuel at around ten in the morning and picks her up at four.
The naive excitement of striding through the halls of Bennett, Fitzallen & Coe as editor in chief wore off in about five minutes for Howard Stewart (after legal brought him up to speed on the plagiarism suit against the publishing house being notoriously played out in the headlines), but he still knew at once how much he had missed being on the publisher side of things. He also is enjoying the enormous difference of being an editor in chief instead of the powerless young editor he had been the last time around.
Amanda and Howard sometimes look at one another and try to remember how they could have ever felt anything except blessed in their marriage. After the house was sold to cover their debts they now spend a half hour each week going over their finances. Oddly enough there seems to be a correlation between them working as a team on their debts and money falling out of the sky. (Howard says he will never use anything else but bartenders to sell antiques from now on.)
Emily and Teddy are settling in well and are playing in a Manhattan soccer league. The big difference now, which sometimes makes Amanda want to weep for the sheer joy of it, is that their father is almost always there to watch them.
Hillings & Stewart has reverted to the agency’s original name of Hillings & Hillings. The agency’s most exciting deal at the moment is the development of Amanda Stewart’s biography of Catherine the Great as a movie vehicle starring Georgiana Hamilton-Ayres.
Over the summer Georgiana surprised the world by announcing her engagement to Lord William Edward Mortimer Douglas, future Earl of Worthington. When Lord Douglas was asked how he felt about his glamorous fiancée’s highly publicized bisexuality, he said, “Georgiana and I love each other above all others. Our pasts are exactly that—past.” The couple intend to make their home base in Surrey, UK, and Bel Air, California.
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