A Slender Thread (11 page)

Once she had finished college, Margot moved to New York, determined to seek a different life. More than anything, she dreamed of becoming an artist. She found a job as an assistant in an advertising agency and took painting classes on weekends. Eventually her college friends had scattered, and her last boyfriend, a sweet guy, tall and awkward in ways that reminded her of a younger Alex, left for law school in Oregon. He asked her to join him there, but she decided there was not enough between them to warrant a move all the way across the country.

Soon enough there had been other men in Margot's life. She had friends from the office and went off after work to bars and restaurants with different groups. Some guys wanted sex on the first date; others were workaholics. No one seemed right for her. More and more she yearned for the easy, steady, adult kind of happiness that Alex and Lacey seemed to share. At times she wondered if she would ever meet the right person. During her fifth spring in New York she met Teddy at a restaurant not far from her office.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

Margot looked up. She was wedged in the corner of a tiny lunch place called Soups and Savories. Since there were only a dozen tables, customers were expected to share with strangers. “Sure,” she said, moving her cream of carrot soup closer to her. The man taking the seat opposite her had neatly trimmed brown hair. She glanced at him again while reaching for her roll. He had bright blue eyes and a dimple in his chin. Good-looking, she thought, and what Granny Winkler would have called a “snappy dresser.”

Margot took a bite of bread and bent over her paper.

“Real estate section?” he asked, pulling back the lid on his carton of soup.

So much for a peaceful lunch alone. She nodded and began to eat. The cream of carrot tasted too spicy. This was the soup she usually ordered, but the cook must have been experimenting with a new recipe. Now she'd have to find a new favorite. New Yorkers didn't like it when you couldn't make up your mind, holding up the hungry people in line, everyone with little time to spare.

“Are you looking for a new place?”

Margot stared at him directly and tried to be pleasant. This man, probably a few years older than she was, had an engaging smile. Something charismatic about him made it hard to look away. He wore a very crisp blue shirt and a striped red and silver tie. Preppy but cute, Lacey would have said.

“I am.” It wasn't easy being polite and nonencouraging at the same time.

“Lost your roommates or just ready to live alone?”

Did she look like the kind of person who preferred to be alone? “I have my own place already,” she said. “I'm actually looking to buy.”

His eyebrows rose. “I see,” he said. He had ordered the oven-roasted tomato. Maybe she should try that soup next.

“Finding an apartment is not easy,” she said.

“Most people hope for problems like that.”

“I know I'm lucky. Believe me, it's nothing I ever thought I'd be doing. My grandmother died and left me some money.” Should she be telling this to a stranger? She could sense his interest, though it didn't feel threatening. “She stipulated that I use the money to buy a place to live. Otherwise, it goes into some charitable trust.”

“Ah. An heiress,” he said.

“Hardly. What seems like a lot of money to me doesn't go far around here.” He ate his soup while she told him about her apartment search. Not a drop fell on his fancy tie. He looked like a guy who would keep his place neat, meticulous even. She glanced down. His shoes, brown leather European loafers, probably Italian, were shined. He must be older, closer to Alex and Lacey's age. “Even if I can afford the price of an apartment, I need to find something where I'll be able to pay the monthly maintenance.”

“Where's your place now?”

“Second Avenue. A boring little box.”

“You look like a prewar kind of girl.” He smiled. Perfectly even white teeth.

He was flirting with her quite blatantly and Margot, who didn't usually fall for the suave types, was surprised that she didn't mind.

“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked.

He put down his spoon and leaned closer to her. “You care about your surroundings. You'd like some charm. An old building, a WBF.”

“Wood-burning fireplace,” she decoded. “I'm sure that's beyond my means. I do like older places. What really matters to me is light.”

“See,” he said. “I knew it.”

In the next few minutes he told her about himself and his job in the art department of a nationally known advertising agency. She liked his name, Teddy Larkin. He spoke quickly, was lively and energetic. When she told him she wanted to become a painter he seemed impressed and said that the Frick was his favorite museum in New York. He asked her if she'd been to any of the new galleries in Chelsea. He made it easy for her to like him.

Over the next weeks they met for dinner, drinks, hung out at some clubs. Teddy seemed to know people everywhere. He liked going out, trying new places. Margot, who hadn't been dating anyone recently, rarely went out after work. Her favorite friend at the office had moved to Brooklyn to live with her boyfriend and she disappeared right after work. The woman who liked going to movies with Margot had started night courses toward her business degree and no longer had any free time. Margot couldn't paint at night and she was growing tired of lonely evenings. Teddy seemed to make it his job to show her how to have fun.

He also relished the real estate search. Margot had found it daunting to face real estate agents on her own, and together they went all over the city, checking on leads, investigating ads from the
Sunday Times
. Then, through a friend of a friend of his, they had found Margot an apartment—small, but with the charm he insisted on; no WBF, but a terrace. The monthly maintenance fee was manageable. Margot had a small legacy from her grandmother in addition to the money for the apartment that would help. She never told Teddy about that extra income. A month after she moved in, he proposed. Margot still wondered how it had happened so quickly.

Lacey and Alex had come to New York to see Margot's new apartment and meet Teddy. On that weekend visit Teddy, probably hoping to impress them, had reserved a table at Yaeger's, the most sought-after restaurant in New York. The meal was expensive, the dining room noisy, and the entire evening awkward. At first Teddy dominated the conversation with his tales of the art department where he worked. His enthusiasm for his job had sounded more like bragging to Margot that night. Lacey was quieter than usual, and Margot sensed that she wasn't taken in by Teddy's charms. Alex barely said a word, certainly nothing to Teddy. Alex seemed to avoid looking at Margot too, though later in the evening when she asked about their new house in New Castle and their plans for Bow Lake later in the summer, both he and Lacey acted more like themselves. Margot didn't have enough vacation to go to New Hampshire that year. She planned to stay in New York to paint the walls of her new place.

Now thinking back to her marriage, Margot tried to remember if she had ever really loved Teddy. She had felt a flutter of excitement each time she was with him, certainly during that first spring. He had beautiful manners, always opening doors for her, sliding across the seat of a taxi so she wouldn't have to, holding his big black umbrella over her in the rain. He even sent her postcards, sort of old-fashioned love notes of places he wanted to take her in the city—the Empire State Building, the sculpture garden at the Museum of Modern Art, cherry trees in bloom overlooking the reservoir in Central Park.

He paid attention to her at a time when no one else did. While vain about his clothes, he also loved to take her shopping to find the perfect dress in a certain shade of blue that he thought suited her. She remembered him saying, “You deserve the best, Margot. I want you to have beautiful things.” And later, “God, how I want you, darling. I want you for my own. I want you all to myself.” Eventually, she had learned that for Teddy it was all about wanting, and not about loving. Maybe his wanting the best for her, the little indulgences, his attention, was his way of loving. Maybe it was all he was capable of. Teddy, so handsome, living the fast life with his fast talk, had given her no time to listen, no time to think.

Lacey had come back that September to help Margot plan her wedding. “You've had quite the whirlwind romance,” she said. They were in Paris Blooms, a fancy Upper East Side florist, choosing flowers.

“We've been together for six months,” Margot said.

“Together?” Lacey asked.

“Dating. And then together.” Margot found herself blushing, as if she were an old-fashioned girl telling her sister she was having sex. Sex with Teddy wasn't quite what she had hoped for. Not yet. They always seemed to make love hurriedly, late at night, after drinking more than they should have. Teddy's drinking had started to bother her. She tried to sip one drink slowly, making it last all evening. Why did every night have to be like a party? Once she and Teddy were married, she assumed, they wouldn't go out as much. She looked forward to settling down.

“Six months isn't all that long,” Lacey said.

“Lacey, I'm not rushing into this. You're beginning to sound like Dad used to. You're too young to act like my parent.”

“Come on, Margot. It's not like that.” Lacey paused, and bent to smell a large container of pink roses. “Perhaps I shouldn't say anything, but Alex has some reservations about Teddy.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Margot felt a forgotten anger rise in her chest.

“Well, I guess we were both surprised when you told us that you were getting married.”

“I don't want to hear this. You have no right to judge me. And Alex even less so.”

“I know that,” Lacey said softly, reminding Margot that her own voice had grown loud. “At least think about waiting until next summer. We could have the wedding for you in New Castle. That way you could take your time.”

“I'm not waiting,” she said. “And what's Alex got to do with this? He's not my father either.”

“Don't get upset,” Lacey said. “We're concerned, that's all. All of a sudden you have Granny's money, you buy this apartment, and this guy is moving in and marrying you.”

“It's not all of a sudden. I've seen Teddy every day for six months. Besides, he's been wonderful to me.”

“There's a lot more to marriage than just being wonderful.”

“Meaning?” Margot knew Lacey was right, but she didn't like being grilled or put on the defensive.

“Have you talked about children? Or money? Teddy seems to like fancy restaurants.”

“We've talked about our future and that's our business.”

Obviously hurt, Lacey looked away. Margot felt like a liar. There was a lot she and Teddy hadn't talked about. She hadn't wanted to spoil their time together. Teddy was the one who wanted to move ahead quickly, and Margot had agreed. There would be plenty of time to figure out their future. After five years alone, she was a little afraid of taking this leap and losing her independence, but like any scary thing, she had convinced herself, she would feel better when it was over with. Wasn't it normal to have doubts before making any big change? Teddy wanted her, she wanted to be married, and at the time it seemed like enough.

“Lacey,” she said, trying to make amends, “don't worry about me. It's going to be fine. Teddy and I aren't like you and Alex. We're doing this our way.”

“If you're sure,” Lacey said, placing her hand on Margot's arm as if to soothe an overtired child. “If this is what you want, then we want it too.”

Margot relaxed a little. It was hard to remain angry while surrounded by towering tropical blooms and the wafting sweetness of the giant bouquet of cream-colored lilies at her elbow. “It is what I want,” she said, still upset about Alex's view of Teddy.

“Fine,” Lacey said, pulling out a pad of paper. “Let's figure out the flowers and then let me take you to lunch.”

They studied the vast buckets of blooms in rows at their feet. Margot hardly knew where to start. “What were Mom's favorite flowers?” she asked, calmer now but suddenly determined. Teddy was the right person, she told herself, and she would make this marriage work. She would prove Alex wrong.

“She loved peonies.” Lacey smiled. “Pale pink ones. When we were little she had a huge clump of them growing beside the back door. Don't you remember?”

Margot shook her head, though she was glad to have this information about her mother. “Are peonies expensive?” Margot worried about what the wedding was going to cost. She and Teddy had agreed they should host the wedding themselves, and in the end they had decided on a noon service the first Saturday in October, followed by a lunch for forty guests at the Lancaster, an elegant hotel on the Upper East Side.

Neither of them earned much money, and Margot felt Teddy's taste often exceeded his salary. He was still a junior member of the design team at work, but he insisted that one day he'd be at the top, making buckets of money. At first, all Margot and Teddy had agreed upon was the size of the wedding. She wanted a lunch party, knowing it would cost less. He wanted an early-evening service followed by drinks at the Four Seasons. He finally conceded, provided she purchase the flowers at Paris Blooms.

“Peonies would be expensive here,” Lacey said. “They're also out of season.”

Margot pushed away the anxious feeling that had come more and more often over the last few weeks. No peonies, then. She had also promised Teddy no chrysanthemums, as they reminded him of death and he hated the smell.