“Let’s just bring it around to the other side of the house,” Nick said.
“Hi, honey,” Olivia said. “Wow! That is some grill!”
“Yeah, I got a great deal on it.”
“Really? How much did it cost?” Olivia asked.
“Yes, just set her down over there. Yes, in the shade, right on the brick patio under the magnolia.” Nick said. “It’s going to need to be leveled.”
“We’ve got some shims on the truck,” one of the men said. “I’ll grab them.
Olivia could see that Nick was very excited, like a boy finally getting that elusive pony. She lifted the hood and peered inside, and having no idea what she was really looking at, she closed it with a thud.
“This good, Mr. Seymour?” the man said, standing back and appraising its steadiness.
“That’s perfect! Thank you!” Nick shook hands with both men and gave them twenty dollars each. The men walked away and Nick turned to Olivia. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“I imagine it is, as grills go, I mean. So, how much?”
“Well, it was a floor model, so I got it at a tremendous discount.”
“And? Come on, tell me.”
“Four thousand, but that includes a two-year warranty on all parts and labor.”
“Four thousand dollars for a grill? Are you kidding me? That’s insane!”
Nick was stunned and sharply offended by her reaction. Was she questioning his judgment? Since when?
He said, “It was eight thousand! Olivia, grills can cost up to fifty thousand dollars for some of them.”
“I’m aware of that. I purchase them from time to time.”
“This is a nice one, but it’s not exactly the Madonna of all grills!”
“Okay. Nick? I think it’s time we had a talk.” She was feeling short of breath.
“About what?”
“Money. Let’s go inside.”
Olivia knew that he had charged it on a credit card, and that when the bill came in, she would not be writing a check for the amount of the bill in full. For the first time in her adult life she would be making a minimum monthly payment and being charged interest. It gave her the shakes to think about it.
They reached the kitchen and he took a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. Nick knew he was about to hear something unpleasant and thought it wise to fortify himself.
“It’s after five. May I pour you a glass?” he asked and poured one for himself.
“No, not quite yet. I think I want to be as clearheaded as possible for this conversation.”
“Olivia? What has happened?” He leaned back against the gleaming center island and looked at her. “Tell me.”
The story began to pour out of her, one miserable client at a time, and then she broke down and wept with shame and embarrassment because she had not confided in him all along. And because her business, the most important thing that defined her as an individual, was failing.
“Look,” he said, “this isn’t great news, but it’s not like inoperable stage four cancer. What I don’t like here is that you didn’t tell me sooner. I would’ve bought a simple Weber grill. Here.” He offered her his linen handkerchief.
She took it, blotting her eyes and sniffing loudly. “I couldn’t tell you. I just couldn’t.”
“You can blow your nose in it.”
“No, I can’t! Then I’d have to wash and iron it! We don’t even have a housekeeper!”
She reached for a paper towel and blew her nose into that.
“Olivia? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Because the Nantucket job was so huge, it would’ve made us whole again. And now it’s lost. It’s all lost.”
“And there’s nothing new coming up?”
“No. Nothing.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Okay. How long are we good for?”
“Sixty days, maybe ninety.” Olivia was staring at the floor.
“Well, we’ve got the Sotheby’s sale in August. That should generate something. What about the contents of your warehouse in Secaucus?”
“There are a few things there that might be salable.”
“What can we do to cut expenses?”
“Nick? For the kind of business I have? My expenses aren’t that high. What I need is a job.”
“My intuition tells me that you’d be better off with lots of small or medium-sized clients you could rely on than one big one. But let’s think this through. And there’s something else we need to address, Olivia.”
For the first time in their marriage she saw that Nick was very unhappy with her.
“What?”
“You know what you’ve done here, don’t you? You’ve jeopardized our stability by not telling me what was going on. And I have an absolute right to know how sound our finances are, just as well as you do.”
He was now beginning to smolder, but he carefully modulated his voice to remain civil.
“What are you saying, Nick?”
“I’m saying that if I’d had the facts, I never would’ve allowed you to buy a house like this.”
“Allowed me?”
“Yes! And I’m saying that because you hid the truth from me, you’ve compromised my trust in you. This is not a good thing, Olivia.”
“I’m sorry, Nick. I never had this kind of catastrophe happen in over twenty years. Not even close.”
“It’s not just happening to you, Olivia. It’s happening to us.”
“I think I’d like that glass of wine now. Please.”
He opened the cabinet, took out a goblet, and poured her half a glass.
“We’ll get through this, Olivia, but from now on? No more secrets. Agreed?”
“Yes. Agreed.”
“Tomorrow I want you to lay everything out for me so I can better understand our position.”
“I will. First thing.”
“I want you to know this. I’m not blaming you for the downturn. You’ve made it clear how it happened. I’m just wondering how quickly we can recover. We need a plan.”
They had dinner that night and the fish was truly marvelous, but a pall had been cast and it seemed to be almost impenetrable.
“Nick, look,” she said as they sat down to eat, “I’ve been uprooted, relieved of my accoutrements, and dropped into unfamiliar territory like a droid delivery from Amazon.”
“Well, not to stand on ceremony, but this was always our agreement.”
“I know. I don’t know where new business is going to come from, but I know it’s going to take some time to get back on steady ground. And I also know it would be a lot easier for me to regroup if I was in New York.”
“What are you saying? That you want to leave me?”
“Nick! Not for all the money in this world!”
“Well, it sure sounds like you resent the Sotheby’s sale.”
“That should be another discussion.”
“Okay.”
“But I’m thinking that if I can get Roni to rustle up a few new clients, and I’ll make calls as well, I can fly to New York, make the presentations, order goods, arrange a work schedule, and fly back here to you. Roni can oversee deliveries and installations like she always has.”
“How long would you be gone?”
“I’d prefer to look at it as commuting, and I guess I’d be doing it until we’re out of the hole.”
“Have you thought to ask Jason about sending clients your way?”
“No, but that’s not a bad idea either.”
After fourteen years of bliss, the honeymoon was officially over. Olivia’s secrecy wasn’t fatal, but it created an ugly undercurrent of mistrust. Nick was left to wonder: if she had hidden something so critical to their security, what else might she be hiding?
And Olivia went to bed that night, resentful and thinking it was unfair for him to retire and place the burden of being their principal source of income on her. How long did he expect her to work? Would she ever be able to afford to retire? Did he get
himself a nurse and a purse when he married her? Had it been a mistake to marry a man so much older? Was he just going to fill the freezer with fish while she schlepped the hard concrete sidewalks of New York? What the hell had she done? For once, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
First thing in the morning, she showed him all of their accounts and her business bank statements.
“It’s a good thing we have my retirement money, Medicare, and a Social Security check, meager as it is.”
“Yes, it is. A good thing, I mean.”
Nick left to go downtown to the historical society to read. He wasn’t chilly to her, but his demeanor was decidedly different. He sighed a lot over breakfast, and when he left, he said, “I’ll check in with you before I cross the causeway.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
She called Roni.
“Listen, we’ve got to find some business fast or we’re cooked,” Olivia said.
“I’m aware. Hey, remember I joined the Young Fellows at the Frick? Well, I got invited to a dinner party by this woman I met at a gallery talk. She just bought a co-op in the East Sixties. She wants my opinion. Apparently you decorated her mother’s house in Southampton years ago.”
Thank you! It’s a start, she thought.
“Maybe her mother needs new curtains by now. Who is she?”
“The daughter’s married and took her husband’s name, so I’ll have to ask.”
“When’s the dinner?”
“This Thursday.”
“What kind of taste does she have?”
“French mid-century.”
“Oh, for the love of St. Pete! When is this mid-century horror show ever going to be over? Take her down to all those shops around Howard Kaplan.”
Howard Kaplan Design was actually a specialist in country French furniture, some mid-century, and other household accessories, but the neighborhood around it was jammed with shops containing mid-twentieth-century everything from cookie jars to chandeliers.
“I’ll do it. So what else can we do?”
“I think we start combing the records going back, say, seven years or more and see who might be ready to freshen up their homes. Then we have to come up with a suitable excuse to contact them, one that doesn’t scream desperation.”
“When do you leave for Spain?”
“Next week.”
“That doesn’t give me much time. How about this? Why don’t I set up a few appointments with old clients if I can and you fly up and have lunch or drinks or dinner somewhere cool and see what comes out of it?”
“I think it’s the only way. Meanwhile, that five hundred dollars we spent for you to join the Frick may have been the best money we’ve spent in a while. Who knows where it might lead?”
“You’re right. There’s a lot of new money in the city now. They need our tasteful direction.” Roni laughed.
Roni arranged three days of lunches, cocktails, and dinners for Olivia. Nick wasn’t thrilled about her going away, but Olivia left for New York on Sunday. Olivia felt like a few days apart might soothe his grumpiness.
“I’ll meet you at Teterboro on Thursday,” she said. “The information for your flight is on your desk.”
“Okay,” Nick said. “Thanks.”
“What’s wrong? You’ve got funny look on your face.”
“I don’t know. It’s just, well, does Maritza have any idea how canceling the job with you impacts us?”
“Not a clue. She’s only upset about losing the house for herself.”
“Of course.”
“That’s just how it is. Interior design is a tough business. I’ll call you when I land.”
Olivia’s delight to be back in Manhattan far outweighed the success of her meetings, which ranged from lukewarm to just fair. Her old clients for the most part agreed to a meal or a drink just to see what was going on with her or to tell her what was going on with them. Two seemed to have some potential, and she promised to follow up with them when she returned from Spain. Thursday morning she went to Tiffany’s and bought a crystal bowl for Daniel and Kitty’s wedding gift and took a cab to Teterboro. She hated leaving the city.
The three nights she spent alone in her office on East 58th Street were fraught with worry—worry about Nick and how disappointed he seemed to be in her and worry about acquiring new work. Somewhere along the line, her worry about Nick turned into annoyance. Where was his commitment to solving this financial black hole? Did he offer to go back to work? No, he didn’t, did he? Maybe if he put down his fishing rod for a while, he could ask the College of Charleston or the Citadel for some part-time work. Why not? She was certainly doing her part. Had she not humiliated herself enough by resurrecting her old clients and hinting around as subtly as she could that she had some time on her hands? But then, she thought, maybe this was what happened when you were too arrogant, too proud. Maybe the universe was trying to teach her the lesson that she never should have taken her success for granted for a single minute. Maybe moving out of New York was the gigantic mistake she thought it would be. And—Nick had said it, really—maybe she should never have had all of her proverbial eggs in one basket. It made her so mad that he was so right. And now they were to spend the next five days with Maritza and Bob and conduct themselves as though everything was all right between them.
Her taxi pulled into the entrance area in front of the terminal at Teterboro Airport. She paid the driver and got out. Nick was standing right inside the glass vestibule, waiting for her. When she looked at him and saw the loving expression on his face, her anger toward him melted. He opened the door for her to enter.
“Hey, gorgeous. I missed you.”
“Oh, Nick!” She threw her arms around him and kissed him all over his face. “I missed you too, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“Me too, sweetheart. Let’s go have some fun in Spain, and to the devil with our worries for a few days.”
“You’re right. Our worries will be there waiting for us when we come home.”
They greeted everyone, and it was almost a repeat performance of their last initial greeting except that Anne Fritz and Lola were absent. In their place to even out the dirty dozen were Kitty’s mother Betty, a retiring stocky woman of obviously humble means, and her uncle Ernest, wearing a clerical collar and a thin black suit, an ordained minister who was along to witness and conduct the ceremony. Their discomfort and suspicion of everyone and everything were clear.
Of course, Buddy and Sam were discussing golf with each other, Dorothy and Michelle were ignoring everyone, Gladdie was tearing around the waiting area, and Ellen was posing, giving coy looks in Bob’s direction whenever she thought he was looking. Daniel and Kitty were off to one side, quietly talking to each other, smiling and holding hands.
“Welcome!” Maritza said. “I’m so glad y’all are here!”
“So are we! Where’re Anne and Lola?” Olivia asked Maritza.
Bob answered, “Look, Olivia. You know me for how long? I don’t mind taking all my friends on a little getaway now and then. In fact, I love to share what I have. But that dumb bitch? She treated me like a bug under glass when she was a guest at my party on Necker, and then she sent me a bill for eighteen thousand dollars!”
“Good grief! That’s terrible!” Olivia said.
“Outrageous,” Nick said. “Hourly rate times hours spent with us. Unreal.”
“She wasn’t that helpful anyway,” Maritza said. “So we decided it was time to go our separate ways.”
“Separate ways? I fired her myself and it felt good!” Bob said.
“Well, at least you got some satisfaction out of it,” Olivia said with a big smile.
“Ha-ha! See? Olivia knows me! Every now and then it feels good to take a little bite out of somebody,” Bob said. “Just a little chomp!”
“Please. Robert Vasile,” Olivia said, “in all these years, the only time I’ve ever seen you bite someone is when they’re taking advantage of you.”
“I wish you did my PR,”
Bob said to her, and then he spoke to everyone else, “Okay, folks, we’ve got wheels-up in ten minutes! Let’s look alive!”
“What’s in all those boxes?” Olivia asked Maritza.
There was a tower of pink boxes waiting by the massive pile of luggage and golf clubs. They were labeled Fragile! on all sides.
“Oh, honey, that’s Kitty’s wedding cake. She’s going to put it together on the boat.”
“Oh, right! She’s a pastry chef.”
“Yep, and she brought her flowers too!”
“Well, that’s nice. When’s the ceremony?”
“The night after we arrive. God, don’t you just love weddings? You know, I did ask her if she wanted to go get a dress with me. I would’ve bought it for her.”
“Well, what did she say?”
“Well, believe it or not, she’s wearing her momma’s wedding dress.”
“You know what? I think that’s very sweet! Makes you look at her in a whole new light, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe for you,” Maritza said. “But she’s still an odd duck to me.”
The seven-hour flight to Palma was completely serene, the best kind of flight to have. This time Bob shuffled the seating arrangement. Bob placed Kitty’s mother and uncle across the aisle from him and Maritza. Olivia had to say that Bob and Maritza were doing everything they could to put the prospective in-laws at ease. Having them along minimized the usual bawdy and catty chitchat, and it caused extraordinary fits of eye rolling from Ellen, from Michelle, and heaven knows, from Dorothy whenever Betty or Ernest spoke.
After considering the demeanor of Kitty’s mother and uncle, it did not seem to Olivia or to Nick that this was a particularly good match—Kitty and Daniel, that is—if Kitty’s ultraconservative background would play a big role in their future. Or maybe it was an excellent match, and that conservatism would bring reality to Daniel for the first time in his life. In their back-row seats they whispered to each other.
“Not to be catty, she’s like Aunt Bee from Mayberry,” Nick said.
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