“I won’t be gone too long, and if I am, I’ll just bring the two of you over. I’m sure Randall and I will want to see new faces after a point.”
“Well, you just see how it goes,” Claudia said, wiping her eyes.
“Are you going to marry him?” Gracelyn asked.
“I have no idea,” Rebecca answered honestly. “First, I have to figure out why people get married.”
“I know just what you mean,” Claudia replied.
“Well, when either of you find out, be sure and let me know,” Gracelyn said, shaking her head.
“I think we’ll all find out for ourselves in our own way, before long,” Rebecca said encouragingly. “Right now, it’s just nice to be loved. Anyway, I usually feel like I’m married to the two of you.”
“Loved?” Gracelyn said, right on cue. “Rebecca, are you saying you’ve made love with him? When was all that going on?”
“Why do you need to know?” Rebecca replied with mock indignation.
“I tell you, Gracelyn, you have the biggest nose of anyone I know.” Claudia rolled her eyes.
“Rebecca, tell me.”
When Rebecca didn’t respond, Gracelyn yelled excitedly, “You have, I can tell you have!”
“Gracelyn, calm down.” This time it was Rebecca remonstrating with her. “I don’t think I have to tell you everything I do or don’t do. I’m just going to let you wonder.”
“That’s mean, Rebecca.”
“No it’s not,” Claudia answered for Rebecca. “Have you ever heard of privacy? We don’t want you writing about our affairs in one of your books.”
“It’s still mean.”
“Would you all mind if I finished packing so I can go to bed? I want to be up early, and today was kind of tiring.”
“Of course, Rebecca.” Claudia leaned over to hug her.
Gracelyn clambered down from the bed and went over to kiss Rebecca on the cheek and wrap her arms around her neck.
“I love you so much. I love you too,” she said, next enfolding Claudia.
XIV
REBECCA COMPLETED HER perfunctory packing well before midnight. She fell asleep thinking of her sisters and their lives. Largely through their own efforts, the deck was no longer stacked against their happiness. She believed they would all do well defining themselves in a way they couldn’t have as younger women, and she was confident they would never relinquish their importance to each other, that they would continue to share in the chapters of their lives to come. She realized they had all missed out on something, but that in their devotion to each other, they had something that other people were without. They would undertake their new journey with their love for each other and with courage, but without the heartache each had carried over the years. They had cemented their community profile and they would never be alone. They were Cates women, brilliant, estimable, strong.
Rebecca awoke as usual predawn. The recurring dream had come back to her during the night. Still, she had a new excitement over everything she planned to do. Going out to her orchids, she compiled notes for Claudia while walking through the green-house. Claudia, she knew, would follow her instructions precisely. She decided to bring in some blooms for an arrangement at the breakfast table, to keep up a mood of celebration. She wondered how her sisters would feel when they woke up, and whether they would have the same feeling of starting over.
Gracelyn immediately noticed the flower arrangement and decided to go all out for breakfast, fixing Rebecca’s favorite duck sausage, cheese grits, and plain croissants with plum preserves. She sprinkled nutmeg in a pitcher brimming with milk, added some shaved almonds, and put the entire concoction in a blender on high speed. Claudia entered the kitchen talking, telling Rebecca what she should wear when Randall took her to dinner.
“I’m glad you’re packing that gray suit, but I want you to be a little daring. You will be in Paris, after all. No point in announcing to the world that you don’t attend too often to style.”
“Yes, Claudia. What do you have in mind?”
“It’s a little cooler over there, so don’t take any of those loose muslin dresses you wear around here. I don’t want you looking like a flower child.”
Rebecca looked blankly at Claudia. Claudia went on.
“I know you won’t bother with linen, but a lightweight jersey dress or two would be a good compromise. And do some shopping, please, Rebecca. Those European cuts are heavenly the way they fit anybody’s figure, and the fabrics are not only chic, they’re indestructible. There’s a lot to be said for natural, I know, but everything you put on doesn’t have to be biodegradable.”
“Yes, Claudia.”
“I’m getting a vision of you in red, or magenta; something pink. That would be exquisite with your eyes. If I could just get you out of those khakis for one day!”
“I promise, I won’t wear them every day.”
“Claudia,” Gracelyn cut in, “just who is Rebecca doing all this for? Is she dressing for Randall or for you?”
“Lady bird, I have news for you. Women dress for each other. How many men do you know who read Harper’s Bazaar?”
“Claudia, you know I’m not going to read that,” Rebecca informed her. “But I will try to be a little more adventurous in my dress. I’ll pack whatever fancy items you bring back. Randall seems to like silk, so if you have time, run out and see if you can find a dress or a pantsuit in a nice color for me.”
“Rebecca, that is right up my alley. I have waited years—no, decades—to give you a makeover.”
“One outfit is not a makeover, so don’t get carried away. But I’m willing to make a small step, if it’s not too extreme. Oh, yes. Randall also likes lace.”
“Lace!” Gracelyn’s eyes bugged. “Rebecca, this is a real romance!”
“Well, I hope so, honey child. I think I could use some.”
“Rebecca,” Claudia continued, not hearing the other two chat, totally off on her fashion tangent, “what we’ll do is subtle main pieces and dramatic accessories. That should make you comfortable and give Randall some titillation. But I do want you to have a red or fuchsia silk dress as a staple. It can be long-sleeved and demure, everything but the color. I know you never want to be flashy. But it will be a nice staple, and you can dress it down with some quiet gold jewelry.”
“Yes, Claudia. Gracelyn, are there any more of those cheese grits?”
“Coming right up. But you know, you won’t have any cheese grits in Paris.”
“I guess it’s foie gras, then.”
“Rebecca,” Claudia was unrelenting, “now shoes. You don’t have to wear heels, but there are some very sexy flats out this year. It’s the Audrey Hepburn Breakfast at Tiffany’s kitten heel, and they are smashing.”
“Tiffany’s is in New York.”
If Claudia caught Rebecca’s sarcasm, she didn’t let on.
“Your hair.”
“My hair?”
“If you insist on wearing that bun, at least braid it and coil it lower at the nape, sort of chignonlike. You really need to think about getting it cut and styled. A simple pageboy would be really elegant with your features.”
“Claudia, please. Enough! Let me get used to the red dress before you turn me into Jackie Onassis.”
“I was really thinking more Barbara McNair or Anne Bancroft.”
“How do you keep all this stuff in your head?”
“We owe the world glamour.”
“Well then, I am deeply in debt.”
Claudia’s tone softened. “Rebecca, you know I think you are beautiful whatever you do.”
“Thanks, dear.”
“Rebecca, I want to do something special for your trip,” Gracelyn whined.
“You’re doing this wonderful cooking. Do you think I’m going to eat what those French people eat? I may come back here looking like Twiggy, unless I stick to pastry. I don’t plan to eat anybody’s rabbit or horse, and I’m definitely not eating gallstones.”
“Whose gal
lstones?” Claudia asked, her fashion fixation broken.
“That I can’t say. Maybe yours and mine, should we have occasion to pass any.”
“Gross!” Gracelyn made clear her distaste. “Isn’t that cannibalism?”
“Damn close, I would say.”
• • •
That afternoon, Rebecca heard from Deacon Smitherson.
“Rebecca, we’ve relieved Wilson of his duties. But I want you to know, we’re giving him a chance to return a portion of the funds he embezzled. We’d just as soon avoid a scandal and not have him prosecuted.”
“I understand fully. I’m so glad you got back to me. I’ll be out of the country on business for several weeks.”
“My stars. Best of luck to you. Was this a sudden decision?”
“No, actually I’ve put this trip off for a long time. But it looks like now I can get away for a while.”
“Well, good luck to you. I know you’ll represent us well abroad.”
“I’m proud to do so, Deacon Smitherson.”
“I hope it turns out to be a profitable trip.”
“You’re very kind. Thank you.”
Rebecca spent the afternoon in the library reading travel books on France and Senegal, humming as she noted references to restaurants with a quasi-American cuisine. She was sure Leighton would know enough places where she would be comfortable, so her activity was really to occupy herself. She noted several exhibits that interested her, but they had already both decided to start their viewing at the Louvre. Rebecca had traveled to Paris a few years earlier, and knew that traversing the vast museum was nearly impossible during a short stay. She was thrilled she would be able to take her time this trip and savor many more of the salons.
Rebecca heard the front doorbell right before dinnertime. She knew Claudia was still out shopping, and Gracelyn was bustling in the kitchen preparing a surprise for dinner, so she went herself to answer it. She saw with relief that it was a woman standing there, a young woman perhaps in her late twenties, quite petite, and wearing shades. “Hello, I’m Lydia Ellington. You’re Mrs. Furness, I know. May I come in?”
“Please.” Rebecca stepped back to allow the young woman entry. “What can I do for you, Ms. Ellington?”
“Please call me Lydia.”
Lydia, standing in the hallway facing Rebecca, shuffled nervously back and forth on her feet. In these few seconds, Rebecca took note of her tasteful dress. The young woman wore a beige cardigan over a deep brown turtleneck, a knee-length brown suede skirt, and flat shoes.
“Fine, Lydia.” Seeing how tense she was, Rebecca said, “Let’s go sit in the library.”
The tiny woman, still wearing shades, accompanied Rebecca across the hall. They sat facing each other, Lydia on the leather sofa, which dwarfed her, Rebecca, feeling comfortable but curious, settled into one of the club chairs.
“I was here a few weeks ago, but no one was home, I don’t think. I didn’t stay around long.” Feeling a need to confess, Lydia continued, “I looked in your greenhouse. It is so lovely. I was really sorry I missed meeting you, the person who could grow all those flowers.”
“Thanks, Lydia. I’m glad we’re meeting now.” Rebecca waited patiently for an explanation of her visitor’s business.
Rebecca watched, puzzled, as Lydia hung her head.
“I think most of them were orchids?” Lydia’s words were hard to hear, aimed as they were at the floor.
“Yes, I breed different varieties. My favorite type are laelias, but I’ve been lucky with dendrobium and phalaenopsis too. I like the mix of colors, from white to pale to really deep purples, oranges, reds, and fuchsias. Most people don’t know that orchids are the largest plant family in the world. What’s so fascinating, Lydia, is their evolution. I mean, you can crossbreed a species on your own and find that what you’ve done duplicates exactly a natural hybridization. Do you know what I mean by less hybridization?” Rebecca thought talking casually would draw the young woman out.
“Oh, yes! I know.” Lydia’s head shot up. “Laelia. That has a nice sound.”
“Laelia was one of the Roman vestal virgins, so it is a woman’s name. I think of all my flowers as friends or sisters. I’m very attached to them, as you can see.” Rebecca was happy to share her knowledge.
“You’re so kind. You’re so very kind to share all this with me.” Lydia paused and breathed deeply.
Rebecca waited for her to begin speaking again.
“I have to tell you why I’ve come here. Why I came before.”
Lydia removed her glasses and raised her head, her eyes level with Rebecca’s. The young woman had a face very familiar to Rebecca. It was Jake’s face. There was no doubt in Rebecca’s mind that the small, dark, intense eyes, pointed chin, and delicate cheekbones came straight from her husband’s gene pool. For several moments, Rebecca, staring, could say nothing. Finally, she spoke evenly.
“Lydia, you are apparently related to my husband.”
“Yes, I’m his daughter. I’m looking for him. We’ve never met. I hope it was all right for me to come here.”
“The resemblance is very strong. I didn’t know Jake had a daughter.”
“Oh, dear.”
Lydia bowed her head before speaking again.
“Then, I come as a complete surprise. I don’t really know what to say to you.”
“Who is your mother?”
“My mother was Janie Burgess. She died several years ago in St. Louis. I believe she met my father in Los Angeles. I didn’t know my mother.”
“I see.” Rebecca felt a little like screaming, but she wanted to be kind to the girl. “Lydia, will you excuse me for a few moments? I’m going to fix some tea. I’ll fix us both some. Some nice peppermint tea. You just sit and be comfortable while I do that.”
Rebecca stood up, shaking her head slightly as she tried to focus her thoughts. Tea, that would be simple enough. Suddenly, nothing was simple. Rebecca started down the hall to the kitchen, then turned around again to slide the library doors closed. Rebecca had to absorb what she had just learned before Claudia or Gracelyn discovered their visitor and saw the girl’s startling face.
Thankfully, Gracelyn had gone upstairs for the few minutes it took Rebecca to boil some water. In her confusion, not finding a teapot, she placed the tea leaves in a large glass bowl and poured the water over them. She set up a tray with two mugs and a honey dish, sat down at the table, and waited for the leaves to steep. After a few minutes, Rebecca went back down the hall to the library.
Lydia bounded to her feet to help when she saw Rebecca trying to maneuver the tray with one hand while she reopened the heavy doors with the other.
“I hope I haven’t upset you by coming here,” Lydia said to Rebecca when they were again seated facing each other. “I took a chance coming. I wasn’t sure you would let me in the door.”
“I’m not upset.” Rebecca spoke slowly.
“I suppose you didn’t know anything about me.”
“No. Nothing. But I guess that may have been for the best. You look to be pregnant, Lydia.”
“Yes, I am four months now.”
“Are you alone?”
“No, Ms. Rebecca, I’m not. My husband is in the army. We’re on our way to Berlin. He’ll be stationed there for two years.”
“I see.”
“I’ve looked for my father for ten years. You see, I was raised in foster homes, and I didn’t know who either of my parents were for a long time. Sometimes, they don’t want to give you the information. But I kept on digging and writing letters and reviewing records, anything I could find to figure this out.”
“And you succeeded.”
“Yes, in a way. I found out my mother was dead. I am sorry to have to say she was a prostitute during the time she was in California. I believe when she moved to St. Louis, she spent some time in prison for shoplifting, but I think for her last few years she led a decent life. She lived with a cousin, an elderly woman, until she died and she kept
house for her. I found out she started school later in life, and was working on an Associate’s Degree. I’m very proud of that.”
Rebecca listened carefully to the delicate girl.
“Ms. Rebecca, will I be able to meet my father?”
“You have every right to, Lydia. But there is something I have to tell you first. Your father has been brain damaged for a number of years, and I have decided to commit him to a rest home very shortly.”
“Have you had to take care of him?”
“Yes, my sisters and I. In the state he’s in, Jake won’t be able to tell you much about his life, so I will fill you in. He majored in business in college and ran our family department store after we married. I guess I don’t have to tell you he wasn’t the perfect husband. But we had some good years together. He was very smart and very ambitious. Jake was injured at work, very tragically. A shelf collapsed while he stood underneath, and a heavy carton fell on his head and cracked his skull. It was very unfortunate.”
Rebecca stopped speaking, watching for Lydia’s response. Lydia looked serious, but she said nothing.
Rebecca continued. “I can tell you, Jake would have loved knowing you and been proud of you. He wanted children very much.”
“I’m glad,” Lydia said finally. “Since I’m leaving the country, I wanted him to know about his grandchild.”
“I understand. Lydia, he won’t grasp anything you say to him. He can only make sense of things that happened long ago, nothing new, as you will be to him. But I have no objection to your meeting him.”
“Thank you. I came a long way to do that.”
“It seems to me you’ve come a long way, in general. Thank you for sharing so much with me.”
“You are so very kind. I can’t believe you are so very kind.”
“You weren’t responsible for how you got here, and I admire anyone who has borne up under rough circumstances. I see that you are determined and honest. That always counts for a great deal. Wait here, I’ll bring Jake downstairs. Afterward, I’ll tell my sister Gracelyn you are here so she can meet you. I hope that won’t be too awkward.”
Laelia Page 20