Chapter 16
On Sunday evening the nurse put John Henry to bed at eight thirty, and Raphaella walked slowly and thoughtfully to her room. She had been thinking about Alex and Amanda all evening, making a mental note of when they would be leaving the city, boarding the plane. Now they were only two hours from San Francisco, but she felt for the first time in ages that they might have been in another world. She had spent the day with John Henry, gotten him out to the garden in the morning, carefully wrapped in blankets and wearing a warm scarf and a hat as well as a black cashmere coat over his silk robe. In the afternoon she had pushed the wheelchair out on the terrace, and by the end of the day she had to admit to herself that he looked better, and he was relaxed and tired that evening when they put him to bed. This was what she was supposed to be doing, this was her duty, he was her husband. For better or worse. But again and again her mind wandered back to Alex and to Amanda. And more and more as she sat in the brick palace she felt as though she lay buried in a tomb. But she was shocked at her own feelings, and suddenly the evil of what she was doing had risen to haunt her. She was no longer sure it was right.
At ten o'clock she sat staring sadly, knowing that their plane had just landed, that they would be collecting their luggage and looking for a cab. At ten fifteen she knew they were on their way to the city, and with every ounce of her being she found herself wishing that she could be there. But suddenly the fact that she had fallen in love with Alex seemed wrong to her, and she was afraid that in the long run John Henry would pay the price, in lack of attention, lack of her company, lack of a certain feeling, and without that she knew that John Henry would not stay alive. But can't you do both? she found herself silently asking. She wasn't sure that she could. When she was with Alex, it was as if no one else in the world existed and all that she wanted was to be with him and forget everyone else. But she couldn't afford to forget John Henry. If she forgot him, she might as well put a gun to his head.
She sat there staring silently out the window, and eventually she got up and turned off the light. She still sat there in her dress from dinner, which she had eaten on a tray in his room while they talked and he dozed between bites. He had been exhausted from all the fresh air. But now she sat very still, as though she were watching, looking for someone, for something, as though Alex would suddenly appear outside. It was eleven o'clock when she heard the phone ring, and she started and picked it up, knowing that all the servants would be in bed except for John Henry's nurse. She couldn't imagine who would call. But when she picked it up, it was Alex, and she trembled at the sound of his voice.
Raphaella? It frightened her to be talking to him here, but she wanted desperately to reach out to him. After their two-month separation after New York, and then his trip to see about Amanda, now suddenly she ached to be with him again.
The room for Amanda is incredible. He spoke softly and for a moment she was frightened that someone might hear, but there was such joy in his voice that she couldn't resist.
Does she like it?
She's in seventh heaven. It's the first time in years I've seen her look like that.
Good. Raphaella felt pleased as she tried to imagine the young girl discovering the pink and white room. Is she all right?
He sighed in answer. I don't know, Raphaella. I suppose so. But how all right could she be after what happened? Her mother made an outrageous scene before we left. She tried to make her feel guilty for leaving. And then, of course, she admitted that she's afraid of what it will look like to the voters if her daughter is living with an uncle instead of with her.
If she handles it right, it could just seem that she's very busy.
I said pretty much the same thing. Anyway, it got ugly, and Mandy was so exhausted that she slept all the way out here on the plane. Seeing that beautiful room you put together for her was the happiest thing that happened to her all day.
I'm glad. But as she said the words Raphaella felt unbearably lonely. She would have liked to see Amanda's face as she walked into the room. She would have liked to have been there at the airport, to have come home with them in the car, and to have walked into the house with them, to have shared each moment, seen their smiles, helped make Amanda feel welcome in the house that Raphaella had been in and out of a dozen times in the past week. Suddenly she felt left out and as she listened to Alex's voice on the telephone, she felt desperately alone. It was an almost crushing burden, and she was reminded of the night when she had cried in similiar loneliness on the steps near the house ' the night she had first seen Alex' . It seemed a century ago as she thought of it now.
You got very quiet. Is something wrong? His voice was deep and alluring as Raphaella closed her eyes and shook her head.
I was just thinking of something ' I'm sorry' .
What was it?
She hesitated for a moment. That night on the stairs' the first time I saw you.
He smiled too. You didn't see me in the beginning though. I saw you first. But as they reminisced about their first meeting Raphaella began to get nervous again about the phone. If any of the servants were awake, they could pick it up at any moment, and she was worried about what they might hear or think.
Perhaps we should talk about this tomorrow.
He understood her. Will we see you then?
I'd like that. The prospect warmed her, and for an instant the loneliness dimmed.
What would be a good time for you?
She laughed softly, she had nothing to do now that the room for Amanda was done. It had been her only project in years. Just tell me when. I'll come over. Or would it be better if She suddenly worried about Amanda. Perhaps it was too soon to meet the girl. Perhaps she would resent meeting Alex's lover, maybe she wanted her beloved uncle all to herself.
Don't be silly, Raphaella. If I could talk you into it, I'd love it if you'd come over now. But they both knew that Amanda was tired and it was too late. Why don't you join us for breakfast? Can you come over that early?
Raphaella smiled. How about six? Five fifteen? Four thirty?
That sounds great. He laughed as he closed his eyes. He could envision every detail of her face. He was aching to see her again, to touch her, to hold her, to let their bodies entwine as though they had always been one. As a matter of fact, with the time difference, I probably will be up at six. Why don't you just plan on coming over when you get up. You don't even have to call. I'm not going in to the office tomorrow morning. I want to make sure that the woman who's coming to help Amanda is okay. With two broken arms, the girl was virtually helpless, and he had had his secretary make arrangements for a combination light housekeeper-practical nurse. And then after a moment, I'll be waiting for you. The longing in his voice was as clear as the hunger in Raphaella's own.
I'll come early. And then, forgetting her anxiety about who might be listening in on the phone, I've missed you, Alex.
Oh, baby. The sound of his voice said it all. If you only knew how I've missed you.
They hung up a few moments later, and Raphaella sat for a long time staring at the phone with a radiant smile. She glanced at her watch as she stood up to undress. It was after midnight, and in six or seven or eight hours she would be with him again. The very thought of it made her eyes dance and her heart race.
Chapter 17
Raphaella had set her alarm for six thirty, and an hour later she slipped quietly out the front door. She had already spoken to one of John Henry's nurses and had explained to her that she was going to an early Mass and then for a long walk. It seemed like a wholesome explanation for what would undoubtedly be an absence of several hours. At least she hoped it would be as she hurried along the street in the December fog and the early-morning chill, with her coat pulled tightly around her and a pearly gray light bathing everything she could see. She reached the cozy little house on Vallejo in a matter of moments, and was pleased to see that most of the lights were already on. That meant that Alex was awake then, and she hesitated for a moment, facing the
big brass knocker, wondering if she should knock, ring the doorbell, or use her key. In the end she opted for a quick ring, and then stood there, breathless, excited, waiting, a smile dawning on her face, before his hand even touched the door, and then suddenly there he was, so tall and handsome, with a smile on his own lips, his eyes bright. Without saying a word, he pulled her quickly inside, closed the door, and folded her tightly into his arms. They said nothing for a long moment, but his lips found hers and they clung together that way for what seemed like a very long time. Afterward he just held her, sharing the warmth of his body and letting one hand stroke her shining black hair. He looked down at her almost with amazement, as though he still found it remarkable that he knew her at all.
Hello, Alex. She looked up at him happily with a twinkle in her eyes.
Hello. And then as he stood back just a little, My God, you look lovely.
Not at this hour. But she did. She looked absolutely radiant. Her eyes were big and bright like onyx flecked with diamonds, and her face was pink from the brisk walk. She had worn a pale peach-colored silk shirt and beige slacks with the lynx coat. And beneath the slacks he could just see cinnamon suede Gucci shoes. How is Amanda? Raphaella glanced toward the upstairs and Alex smiled again.
Still asleep. But he wasn't thinking of Amanda. The only thing he could think of this morning was the incredibly beautiful woman who stood before him in the front hall, and as he looked at her he wasn't sure whether to take her downstairs to the kitchen and offer her coffee or rush her upstairs with far less social pursuits in mind.
But as she watched him struggle with the decision, Raphaella grinned. You look positively wicked this morning, Alex. With a spark of mischief of her own she took off the heavy lynx coat and dropped it on the newel post at the foot of the stairs.
Do I? He feigned innocence. I wonder why.
I can't imagine. Can I make you coffee?
I was just thinking about doing that. But he obviously looked disappointed and she laughed.
But?
Never mind' never mind. He began to usher her downstairs, but they didn't get past the first step when he turned to kiss her, and they dawdled there for a long time as he held her tightly in his arms. It was thus that Amanda found them as she wandered sleepily down the stairs in a blue flowered nightgown, her blond hair a halo around the pretty young face, and the bruises fading slightly around her eyes.
Oh. It was a single sound of surprise, but Raphaella heard it instantly and almost jumped out of Alex's arms. She turned, blushing slightly, to see Amanda looking at her with a host of questions in her eyes. She glanced at Alex then, as though there she would find an explanation. As she watched them Raphaella thought that she looked very much like a little girl.
Raphaella turned and walked toward her with a soft smile and held out her hand, only to touch gently the fingers exposed at the end of Amanda's casts. I'm sorry to intrude on you so early in the morning. I I wanted to see how you were. She was mortified to have been caught necking on the stairs, and suddenly all her fears about meeting Amanda surged up in her again, but the girl looked so fragile and guileless that it was impossible to imagine her as any kind of threat. It was Raphaella who felt threatening, afraid that she might have upset the girl.
But Amanda smiled then, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. It's okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on you and Uncle Alex. It had pleased her to see them kissing. She never saw any warmth in her own home. I didn't know anyone was here.
I don't usually go visiting this early, but
Alex cut in quickly, he wanted Amanda to know who Raphaella was and just how important she was to him. She was old enough to understand that. This is the fairy godmother who decorated your room, Mandy. His voice was tender, and so were his eyes, as he looked at them both, the three of them hovering near the stairs.
You are? You did?
Raphaella laughed at the amazement in the girl's eyes. More or less. I'm not much of a decorator, but it was fun to put together your room.
How did you do it so quickly? Alex said there was nothing in it at all when he left.
I stole everything. They laughed and she grinned. Do you like it?
Are you kidding? It's terrif! This time it was Raphaella who laughed at both the excitement and the slang.
I'm so glad. She wanted to hug her then, but she didn't quite dare.
Can I offer both of you ladies breakfast? Alex was beaming down at them both.
I'll help you. Raphaella volunteered as she followed him down the stairs.
Me too. Amanda seemed happily engaged for the first time since the tragedy. And she looked even happier an hour later as the three of them sat around the kitchen table, chuckling over the remains of fried eggs and bacon and toast. Mandy had even managed to butter the toast with her casts on, Raphaella had made the coffee, and Alex had seen to the rest.
Excellent teamwork! He commended the two women as they teased him again about being a very imperious chef. But what was evident above all as Raphaella cleared the table was that the three of them were comfortable together, and she felt as though she had just been given a priceless gift.
Can I help you get dressed, Mandy?
Sure. The girl's eyes lit up, and half an hour later, with Raphaella's help, she was dressed. It was only when the new housekeeper came at nine that Alex and Raphaella were once again alone.
What a wonderful girl she is, Alex.
He beamed at her. Isn't she? And ' God, Raphaella, it's amazing how she's recovering from the From what happened to her. It's only been a week. His face had sobered as he remembered.
Raphaella nodded slowly, thinking back over the past week. I think she'll be fine. Thanks to you.
Maybe thanks to both of us. He hadn't been oblivious of the gentle, loving way she had of handling the girl. He had been touched by her obvious warmth and the way she had reached out to Amanda, and he hoped that it meant good times for the three of them in days to come. Amanda was part of his life now, but so was Raphaella, and it meant a great deal to him for the three of them to be close.
Chapter 18
What do you mean you don't like the angel? Alex looked at her with a crooked grin as he perched on the top of a ladder in the empty living room. Raphaella and Mandy were standing beneath him, and Mandy had just told him that the angel looked dumb.
Look at him, he's grinning. He looks silly.
If you ask me, you guys look pretty silly too. They were both lying on the floor playing with the trains Alex had brought up from the basement. They had been his father's and then his.
Alex clambered down the ladder and observed the fruit of his labors. He had already strung the lights and Mandy and Raphaella had done most of the decorating while he had gotten things started, assembling the trains. It was the day before Christmas, and his mother had promised to come out for a visit in two days. In the meantime it was just he and Amanda and Raphaella. She had been spending as much time as she could with him, but she had her own things to do.
She had been attempting to make things a little bit festive for John Henry, and Alex had even gone with her to pick out a small tree. She had spent a week planning a party for the servants, wrapping gifts, and putting up funny red stockings with their names. They were always amused by her thoughtful gestures, and the gifts she had bought them were always useful as well as expensive, gifts they were happy to get and would enjoy for many long years. Everything was done with a kind of generous fervor, a zeal all her own. The presents were beautifully wrapped, carefully selected; the house looked lovely, filled with poinsettias and pinecones, little pine plants; and there was a huge handsome wreath on the front door. Just that morning she had taken John Henry around the house in his wheelchair, and afterward she had disappeared and returned with a bottle of champagne. But this year she noticed that he viewed it all with less interest. He seemed far removed from any Christmas joy.
I'm too old for all this, Raphaella. I've seen it too often. It doesn't matter
anymore. He seemed even to struggle with the words.
Don't be silly. You're just tired. Besides, you don't know what I bought you. She had picked out a silk robe with his monogram. But she knew even that wouldn't bring him around. He was increasingly lethargic, increasingly morbid, and had been this way for months now, as though he no longer cared.
But with Alex she found the Christmas spirit, and in Amanda she saw the childlike joy she loved so much in her little cousins in Spain. For Amanda there were long strands of red berries, arrangements of holly, long strings of popcorn they made for the tree, there were decorations they baked and cut out and painted. There were gifts that they made as well as the ones they bought. For weeks it had been an exhausting proposition and now it was culminated with the decoration of the tree. Just before midnight they were finished, and the presents were stacked in little piles all over the floor. In the empty parlor the tree looked gigantic, the lights splendid, and the little train tooted freely around the floor.
Happy? Alex smiled lazily at her as they stretched out in front of the fireplace in his room, a pile of logs burning.
Very. Do you think Mandy will like her present?
She'd better or I'm sending her back to Kay. He had bought her a little lamb jacket like Raphaella's and had promised her driving lessons as soon as the casts were off her arms. They were due off in another two weeks. Raphaella was giving her ski boots, which she had begged Alex for, a bright blue cashmere sweater, and a whole stack of books.
You know. Raphaella smiled happily up at him. It's not like buying for my cousins. It feels like she hesitated to say it, feeling foolish like having a daughter, for the first time in my life.
a Perfect Stranger (1983) Page 15