by Anita Hughes
Felix and Finn sipped ti punch with a squeeze of lime and Hadley remembered why she loved cocktail hour on St. Barts. Felix recounted his winning serve and Finn described the sea turtles at Colombier Beach and even Esther came onto the patio and tried her own deviled eggs. And Olivia! She wore a print dress and silver sandals and her arms were as brown as a native’s.
Olivia kept glancing at the French doors to see when Sebastian would appear, and Hadley wondered if she had been too hard on him. After all, he only wanted what was best for his daughter.
Then she remembered all the years Olivia had helped mail him her birthday invitations and wanted to stab him with a pineapple wedge. If he had shown up ten years ago, Hadley would have let Olivia spend her summer exploring the Galápagos Islands or seeing the parrots in Senegal. Lots of couples got divorced, but they didn’t leave a trail of forwarding addresses like bird seed in a Grimm’s fairy tale.
Now was not the time to disrupt Olivia’s life, when she was managing the art gallery and Finn was about to propose. Sebastian’s timing was as poor as a kicker making a winning field goal after the clock runs out.
Hadley put her glass on the side table and thought she’d tell Sebastian there was a change of plans. A room had opened up at Hotel Eden Rock and they would pay for it.
Sebastian was used to being alone, he didn’t want to be woken by Felix doing his morning exercises. He would be more comfortable in a hotel suite with a private balcony and complimentary newspaper and orange juice.
But there probably wasn’t a room available on the whole island and when she looked at Olivia she couldn’t do it. Since Sebastian had arrived, everything about Olivia seemed brighter. Her green eyes sparkled and her smile was wide and she skipped across the patio like a child at a birthday party.
The French doors opened and Sebastian appeared carrying a paper sack. He wore a striped blazer and had a silk handkerchief in his pocket.
“This looks like a scene from Tender Is the Night,” he said, glancing at the crystal pitcher of daiquiris and silver tray of grilled codfish. “I read Fitzgerald in college, but I always preferred Hemingway. How many people can relate to a couple lolling around a villa on the French Riviera and drinking absinthe? I’d rather read about big-game hunting in Africa or running with the bulls in Pamplona.”
“I’m glad you decided to join us.” Hadley glanced at her watch. “Drinks started at six.”
“I’m sorry I’m late. I spend so much time on airplanes, sometimes I don’t remember if it’s a.m. or p.m.” He placed his straw hat on a chair. “Though it can be terribly freeing to not know what day it is. I once spent a week on Norfolk Island without any connection to the outside world. When I returned to Melbourne, I discovered I’d missed a bombing in Phuket and an outbreak of Legionnaires’ disease in Philadelphia.
“You’d be surprised how much time we spend soaking up other people’s dramas. What good does it do, unless we are Tolstoy or Chekhov?” he finished. “I’d much rather eat a roasted pig and enjoy the sunset.”
“It’s called having empathy for the human race,” Hadley bristled.
“Sebastian has a point.” Felix joined the conversation. “The same disasters are replayed all day on social media. I enjoy watching Stone Phillips read the headlines with my evening martini, but it’s unsettling when they pop up on my phone during a board meeting.”
“Young people have to believe the world is a wonderful place or what would be the point?” Sebastian looked at Olivia. “One of the best months of my life was spent on a sheep farm in New Zealand. There were no outside distractions so the bathwater seemed hotter and the bacon was saltier and when I fell into bed, I could sleep for days. And the sketches I made! I traded them to a former America’s Cup winner for a week on his catamaran. You can’t realize your full potential until life is stripped to its bare essentials.”
“What an inspiring talk, I’m surprised you haven’t been asked to speak at college commencements,” Hadley murmured. “You should have attended Olivia’s graduation, she was class president. She gave a wonderful speech about the importance of family.”
Olivia put her arm through Sebastian’s and smiled. “Everyone is here now, and I couldn’t be happier. Finn mixed a pitcher of daiquiris, let me pour one.”
“I am the luckiest guy in the world, and I have to thank Felix.” Sebastian accepted the frosty glass and turned to Felix. “Not only did you do a tremendous job raising Olivia, Hadley has never been more radiant. When I spoke to her in private, she said she couldn’t have a happier marriage.”
“In private?” Felix said sharply.
“It was only for a few minutes and it was completely aboveboard. She was folding napkins in the dining room.” Sebastian shrugged. “But she did make me appreciate all you’ve done for Hadley and Olivia: season tickets to the ballet and vacations on Cape Cod and the Caribbean.” He handed the paper sack to Felix. “I can’t give you anything to match my gratitude but I got you a housewarming present.”
“I didn’t do anything at all.” Felix accepted the brown bag. “I was just lucky enough to meet the loveliest woman in New York. I remember when I first saw her at the gallery. She wore a black cashmere dress and I was too nervous to say hello.”
“She can be reserved at first. But when you get to know her, you realize she’d do anything for the people she loves.” He stopped and looked at Felix. “What am I saying, you know her better than anyone. Does she still pour cream into her coffee mug first?”
“I hadn’t really noticed.” Felix frowned and opened the sack. “My god, is this a Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc? I read about it in Wine Connoisseur Magazine. I can’t accept this; it must have cost a fortune.”
“I can’t take full credit, Finn discovered it and insisted on buying it.” Sebastian sipped his drink. “Olivia has chosen a fine young man: educated, ambitious, and with a good instinct about wines.” He looked at Finn. “He’s going to be a great addition to the family.”
“Sebastian suggested we try it.” Finn ran his hands through his hair. “New Zealand sauvignon blancs are renowned for pairing with lobster.”
“I still wasn’t going to let Finn pay,” Sebastian continued. “But I remembered a meal I shared with the Raj Mahi at his palace near Mumbai.
“You should have seen it,” he whistled. “Mosaic ceilings and an indoor swimming pool and floors made of eighteen-karat gold. I just finished a trip down the Ganges and arrived with one change of clothes and a clean pair of socks.” He leaned back in his chair. “We sat at the marble dining room table and ate pork jalfrezi and tandoori chicken and lamb masala.
“The Raj opened a bottle of 1978 Montrachet and I was about to refuse. How could I drink a wine he bought at auction for nine hundred thousand rupees? But after the first sip, I was glad I accepted.
“We talked for hours about the poverty levels in India and the need for better irrigation. He shared his dreams for building drinking wells and I told him about the villages I visited where whole families shared a bath.
“By the time we moved into the paneled library for snifters of Grand Marnier and Portuguese cigars, we were both flushed from the wine and curried samosas. I even told him to donate some of the rupees he owed me to the water project.” He paused. “He insisted I take my whole fee but I knew we would stay close friends.” He fiddled with his glass.
“Drinking the perfect wine with dinner is almost a mystical experience. You will never forget the way your taste buds respond as it slides down your throat, and it creates a special bond with your dinner companions that lasts for life.”
“I’m suddenly starving.” Felix shifted in his seat. “We’ll have to tell Esther to hurry with the baked yams.”
“But I couldn’t arrive empty-handed,” Sebastian mused. “It can’t be easy having your wife’s first husband staying down the hallway. Though don’t worry about me, I sleep with earplugs.” He drew a napkin out of his pocket. “I’ve been saving this for nine years, but I want you to have
it.”
“What is it?” Felix examined the linen napkin.
“I attended a state dinner at the White House in 2008 and was seated next to Jeff Koons. We discussed cynicism in modern art and where he finds inflatable toys for his work.” Sebastian paused. “Did you know his latest piece, Balloon Dog (Orange), sold at auction for fifty-five million dollars?
“He encouraged me to try a new medium, but an artist can only paint what’s inside him,” he continued. “He signed this napkin for me, it has a drop of Béarnaise sauce on it. Whoever said you can’t get a good meal in Washington has never eaten in the State Dining Room.”
“Jeff Koons!” Felix gasped. “I remember when I saw his ‘Banality’ series at the Whitney. The critics dismissed it as ‘Michael Jackson and Bubbles’ but it became a touchstone in modern art.” He nodded eagerly. “Pop star with his pet monkey. Koons is a visionary.”
“You were invited to a state dinner in Washington?” Hadley sat forward. She suddenly felt queasy, as if the lime juice in the daiquiris were spoiled.
“They wanted Julian Schnabel but he was in Seville,” Sebastian explained. “The chief of staff was very gracious. He paid for my airfare and hotel and gave me a complimentary tour of the West Wing.”
“Nine years ago you were in Washington and didn’t come to New York to see your daughter,” Hadley repeated, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Well, yes.” Sebastian’s cheeks paled. “But it was a quick visit. You know how busy the president is, I didn’t even shake his hand.”
She turned to face Sebastian. “You were so allergic to living in Manhattan. You had to keep moving like a modern-day Columbus who decided to leave America to the Indians. But you were four hours away from New York by Amtrak and didn’t visit Olivia.”
Sebastian drew a cigarette out of his gold cigarette case and tapped it into his palm. He lit it and inhaled deeply.
“All I thought about was Olivia. She was sixteen and I imagined her with a blond ponytail and her first touch of lipstick,” he sighed. “I couldn’t wait to take her to Katz’s Delicatessen for a pastrami sandwich or Carvel for a hot fudge sundae.
“But then I arrived in D.C. and realized I didn’t know American teenagers at all. How could I relate to my own daughter if I didn’t know what music she listened to or which authors she read or what flavor Life Savers she liked?” he continued. “I couldn’t have my first interaction with Olivia be at a pivotal moment in her life. She’d think I was hopelessly out of touch and never want to see me again.”
“That’s the most self-centered thing I ever heard. It doesn’t matter what Olivia thought of you, the important thing was to be there for her. Anyway, parents are supposed to be out of touch,” Hadley said. “That’s how teenagers form their own opinions.”
“Yes, but you need some history to draw on. You nursed Olivia through the stomach flu and let her cry when her eighth-grade boyfriend broke up with her without telling her. But we had nothing! If I made some comment about her velvet jeans or ankle-length boots, she’d never forgive me.”
“Hadley’s right. I would have given anything for you to visit,” Olivia said to Sebastian. “Why would it have mattered what you thought about my outfit?”
“You believe that now but it would have been different,” Sebastian replied. “I would have made some terrible gaffe on the way back to the airport. You would be secretly glad I was leaving because I didn’t understand you at all,” he finished. “I stayed away for both of us, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“I’m sure that’s the logic the Cowardly Lion used when he was afraid to meet the Wizard of Oz,” Hadley murmured, refreshing her glass.
“If I thought Olivia needed me, I would have been on the first plane.” Sebastian turned to Hadley. “The year I left, I checked the art catalogs and The Miller Girls never went on the market. I knew you were making ends meet and neither of you was going hungry.
“Then I came across the wedding photos in Town & Country. Olivia was the most charming flower girl with her pink satin slippers and wreath of baby’s breath.” He lit another cigarette. “I sat at Internet cafés in Beijing and searched Olivia’s name. I knew she was made co-captain of the volleyball team at Brearley and was awarded the art history prize at graduation.” He exhaled. “You and Felix were doing a tremendous job, I thought it was best if I kept out of the way.”
“Why did you come now?” Hadley asked, sitting back on the chaise longue.
Sebastian studied Olivia’s blond hair and the light freckles on her nose.
“Look at her, I couldn’t stay away any longer. I knew I’d probably be vilified from the moment I walked through the door but I had to take the chance.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Twenty years is a long time to consider my mistakes and I’ve come to make amends. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your and Olivia’s forgiveness if it means I get to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and help Olivia blow out the candles.”
* * *
They moved to a long glass table on the patio and Esther brought out wooden bowls of green salad with Parmesan cheese and hard-boiled egg. There was curried cauliflower and squid risotto. The lobster was tender and the drawn butter tasted of garlic and basil.
“God, what a feast. What kind of family business paid for this piece of paradise?” Sebastian swirled the pinot noir and turned to Felix. “The Town & Country article didn’t mention what you actually do.”
“Felix’s family is in rubber,” Hadley answered, sitting forward in her chair.
She had to stay on her guard. Sebastian was already settled in the guest bedroom and had invited himself to Olivia’s birthday dinner. Why was he being so nice to Felix?
“Rubber!” Sebastian exclaimed. “How inspiring.”
“Inspiring?” Felix asked, eating a forkful of Brussels sprouts.
“I can’t think of anything more vital. We wouldn’t be eating this succulent lobster if we couldn’t get on a plane. And highways would be useless without rubber for the wheels of a car,” Sebastian continued. “Without rubber we wouldn’t even be able to bicycle to the harbor for a carton of milk.”
“I never thought about it like that,” Felix demurred.
“I once painted a sketch for a guy in Hawaii whose grandfather invented the plastic part of a shoelace. He used his inheritance to buy an estate and filled it with artifacts from ancient Crete. His collection rivaled anything at the Louvre but he was ashamed to say how he financed it,” Sebastian mused. “The men who provide the most mundane essentials are the real heroes. The rest of us just try to leave this world putting in a little more than we take out.”
“Sebastian should have appeared in our lives earlier.” Felix turned to Hadley and laughed. “Maybe I wouldn’t feel guilty when I leave the office early to watch the Wimbledon finals at the club.”
“Yes, what would we do without our own personal Plato.” Hadley stabbed an asparagus spear. “I can’t wait to hear his views on global warming and the European economy.”
* * *
Olivia and Hadley cleared away plates and Esther brought out silver bowls of coconut sorbet. There was a tray of lemon and kiwi tarts and meringue topped with strawberries.
They talked about Olivia’s duties at the gallery and the charities Hadley and Felix supported. Sebastian pulled his chair close to Olivia and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“I want to propose a toast,” Sebastian said, raising his brandy snifter. “When I walked out of that Morningside Heights apartment twenty years ago, I was wracked with misery. I wanted so much for Hadley and Olivia, but I was incapable of giving it to them.” He paused. “But look at them now, they have everything I could have imagined. I want to thank Felix and Finn for taking such good care of the Miller girls.”
“Excuse me.” Hadley stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Esther needs me in the kitchen.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Olivia said.
“You have to listen carefully.” Hadley glowered at Se
bastian. “Or you might miss something.”
* * *
Hadley entered the kitchen and turned on the faucet. Finn and Olivia had driven down to the harbor and Sebastian joined them to buy a pack of cigarettes.
Olivia had offered to help with the dishes but Hadley wanted to do them herself. Running her hands under hot water was as soothing as doing the ironing. She filled the sink with plates and felt a prickle at the back of her neck.
How dare Sebastian call them the Miller girls, as if they still belonged together? And why had he given Felix a napkin signed by Jeff Koons! Sebastian could be generous, but usually when it served his best interests.
And he had been so flattering to Felix and Finn. Sebastian was like the curry in the squid risotto. A pinch of it gave the dish flavor, but too much made it hard to swallow.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway and she turned around. Felix stood at the door, carrying a brandy snifter in one hand and silverware in the other. His silvery hair glinted and his cheeks were slick with aftershave.
“We do pay Esther to clean up.” He entered the kitchen. “You don’t have to soak your hands in bubbles.”
“I enjoy doing the dishes.” Hadley flushed as if he could tell she had been thinking about Sebastian. “It’s as calming as practicing yoga.”
“Don’t say that out loud. You’ll put the dishwasher manufacturers out of business,” Felix laughed and picked up a dish towel. “You know, I may have misjudged Sebastian.”
“Misjudged him?” Hadley repeated.
“I can never forgive him for abandoning Olivia and staying out of her life for two decades,” Felix continued. “But I can see that in his own way he truly does love her and thought he was doing what was best for her.”
“Yes, he does.” Hadley nodded and bit her lip.
Maybe Felix was right; the only thing Sebastian wanted was to be with Olivia. In four days he would be gone and their lives would return to normal. She mustn’t spoil Olivia and Sebastian’s time together with groundless suspicions.
“I was thinking, we should invite him to spend a few days with us in Manhattan this fall,” Felix continued. “If Olivia and Finn hold the wedding this Christmas, Olivia won’t have another chance to be alone with her father.”