Promises (5 page)

“Don’t be modest,” said Gilbert. “We’re only family. Go on.”

“Well, somebody wrote an article about the winners, so when I went job hunting, I brought the clipping with me, and after the third try I got a job. That’s about it.”

“You started at the top,” Margaret reminded her. “Crozier and Dexter. Whenever I pick up a decoration and art magazine at the hairdresser’s, I see their name.”

“Oh, they’re the top, all right,” Nina admitted. “I guess I have to say it was a coup, a lucky coup for me. I’m learning so much from them! They even let me help a bit, green as I am, with the room they’re doing in the Farnsworth Settlement’s model house benefit. That’s the most important annual showhouse in the city. It was great fun, and I think I learned a lot.”

“Crozier and Dexter,” said Louise. “I must look for the name. Are they men or women?”

“Two guys, Willie and Ernie.”

“Aha,” cried Gilbert. “Which one has his eye on you?”

Nina laughed. “Neither, you can be sure. Willie and Ernie are—married, so to speak.”

“Oh, dear,” said Louise with a little sniff.

Adam laughed. “It’s safer for Nina that way, don’t you see?”

And Nina retorted, “Not at all. I can find plenty without Willie and Ernie.”

“I’m sure of that,” said Fred, who still had the puppy on his lap. He made a mock face of sorrow so that
everyone laughed. “Oh, if I were younger, Miss Nina! I remember you sitting in your stroller.”

It was growing dark. A narrowing line of hazy pink wavered in the western sky. Then a slight wind stirred, and the birds went silent.

Adam stood up, saying, “Let’s go inside. Who wants popcorn?”

He always knows what the children want, thought Margaret. And Louise, expressing the same thought, remarked, “Do you realize that Adam’s been entertaining those children all afternoon? Between softball, croquet, Japanese origami, you name it, those are three lucky kids.”

“Yes, and I think they know it too,” Margaret said comfortably.

Indoors, after the popcorn had been made in the kitchen, the men, followed by children, dogs, and a trail of popcorn on the floor, went to the computer room to see Adam’s latest miraculous acquisition. The three women went to the parlor. Before the evening ended, Julie would be asked to play something on the piano. This was a routine in the Crane house; family and close friends expected it and found it pleasant.

Nina looked around at the familiar room, the banjo clock, the old sepia photographs, and the rolltop desk heaped with chemistry and biology final exams to be graded. “It seems ages since I lived here,” she said. “Do you think you’ll ever move?”

Margaret shook her head. “Why should we? It’s home.”

“Don’t you get tired of it? It’s typical gingerbread.”

“My great-grandfather built it.”

“That’s sentimental.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t care,” Margaret said with a smile. Nina had always been blunt. But that was good. It was good to know what people were really thinking.

“Then let me fix it up. There’s plenty of space here, tall windows and high ceilings. I could do things with it.”

“So? What would you do?”

“Get rid of all this heavy furniture, to begin with.”

“Why? It’s good stuff, well kept and polished, nothing wrong with it. And it’s old.”

“But not the right kind of old. If it were eighteenth century or French Empire or something, that would be different.”

“ ‘Empire’? Which empire?” Margaret teased.

“Napoleon, of course.”

“The first or the third?”

“Oh, you know I don’t know any history. I only know there’s one with the eagle and the bee and a lot of ancient-Rome business. One handsome piece, a desk for instance, could change this whole room. That alone, and perhaps a touch of gilt here and there around the room, would do wonders for it.” Nina got up and walked around. “Also, a small fruitwood table next to this chair,” she mused. “A pair of lusters on the mantel, reupholster everything pale blue and dark red, a pair of plain modern pull-up chairs here—I love an eclectic room. I’m positively itching to try.”

“Itch away, darling. We can’t afford it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. We haven’t got thousands to spend on fruitwood or gilding. Adam doesn’t own the computer company! And you know what teachers earn. Also, what it costs to educate three children. Anyway, I really
don’t care tremendously about having
stuff.
Never have.”

“I’m so different from you, but I love you so much.” And Nina kissed Margaret on both cheeks.

“Gil and I are going to Europe in the fall,” Louise said. “I was thinking we might stop off in New York for a couple of days and see you at your place, Nina. Our house hasn’t been touched since Bobby and Tim moved out, and I’d love to do over the downstairs, at least.”

“Oh, fabulous! I’d love to bring in some business of my own. I’ll give you my card.”

Gilbert owned a heating and air-conditioning business; the Ferrises were prosperous. They took an almost childish pleasure in what Adam called their “adult toys”: Louise’s fur coats and Gil’s Jaguar.
Overstuffed
was the adjective that he applied to them, and Margaret knew that he only tolerated them for her sake. It was too bad, yet she understood that they were intellectually no match for Adam. Yet they were such good people, so generous and loving! Gil, although not old enough to be her father, had been the nearest to a father that she had ever known.…

“You men are very rude to leave us alone in here,” Nina called. “Come on out. You’ve had enough time with that electronic stuff.”

Fred came in chuckling. “If Adam were speaking Chinese, I’d understand him about as well. Semiconductors, disk drivers—all I know are bricks, cement, and two-by-fours. I guess I’d better stick to the building business. Although seriously, I’ve got to educate myself. We’re in a new age, the age of Adam.”

Adam, visibly pleased, now turned his attention
toward Julie. “Do we get our after-dinner music tonight, Mrs. Chopin?”

The name, which was a family joke, caused Julie to blush with a touch of embarrassment and a deal of pride. Margaret thought of all the theories about the difficulties of the middle child; as far as anyone could see, Julie had no particular difficulties. Perhaps it was because she had her talent.

“What shall it be?” Adam urged. “The new Erik Satie?”

Julie nodded. “I haven’t got it perfectly yet. My teacher only gave it to me two weeks ago. But I’ll try it. It’s a waltz,” she explained to the assembled group as if she were instructing them. “It’s called ‘Chocolate-Covered Almonds.’ ”

“A show tune?” asked Louise. “I never heard of it.”

“It’s a very old piece,” Julie said solemnly. “He’s a French composer.”

It was tranquil music, evening music, summer sounds for lamplight and leaves rustling at the open window. From where she sat, Margaret could see her daughter’s profile as she swayed in harmony with the mood of the waltz.

Her gaze traveled around the circle, where no one moved. Even Danny sat quite still, probably not because he was enjoying himself—at eight he vastly preferred baseball—but out of respect for his father, for whom music was a serious part of life. Those two were as connected as a hand to the arm, she thought, as she studied the boy’s round cheeks, short nose, and jaunty curls, all so like her own. Her gaze then rested upon Megan, who at twelve was already browsing through
popular medical books at the library. Maybe she would be the one to do it.…

Nina was smiling. She had rested her head against the back of her chair and closed her eyes, yet even in such repose she seemed to sparkle. Her heavy chestnut hair was piled high above her small, piquant face; her rather large, sensuous mouth was glossed with the same red-brown lipstick that she had been wearing since, at fifteen, she had used up her allowance to get a professional makeup.

“What a handful!” Mom used to sigh. And Mom had not even lived to see Nina as a grown girl. She had known her only as the mischievous child who liked to scare them by pretending to run away and then, an hour later, popping out of the neighbor’s garage to laugh at them. It had taken more than a little patience to rear Nina!

But it had been worth the effort to watch the unfolding of her imagination, with its recklessness and generosity. There was the time she had given her little savings to a poor girl in her class. There was the time she had bought a reproduction, expensively framed, of Manet’s “Luncheon on the Grass.” “Isn’t she nervy?” Nina had said of the naked woman sitting with the gentlemen in their dark, formal suits. And “It makes my room, doesn’t it, with all that color splashing on the wall?”

Remembering all this now, Margaret felt inner laughter along with a few inner tears. Over time she had taught hundreds of teenagers and thought she understood them fairly well. Yet Nina remained unique. Clearly, the circumstances of her birth must have had their effect; again and again she had asked questions
about her father, questions that had been answered simply with “I don’t know.” The truth was that no one knew. It was possible—ugly thought—that even Nina’s mother had not known. Jean had believed it best to tell Nina that her father was dead, and it was too late now to say otherwise. Perhaps the man really was dead, anyway.

And with a surge of gratitude Margaret thought again about her own three sitting there, who had no such uncertainties, no unanswered questions, nothing hidden. Father and mother were here together and always would be.

Fifteen years! In the course of history that was not even the wink of an eye, yet for this little handful of people, much had occurred in that wink of time. Adam’s cheerful mother, who had lived with them long, too long, past the inception of Alzheimer’s disease, was now in an institution. Jean and her new husband had been run over by a taxi in Hong Kong; he had been killed, and Jean had lain in the hospital there for three months before Margaret had been able to bring her home, where she had later died. When travelers returning from Hong Kong rhapsodized over that fabled city, Margaret shuddered. That fabled city was, in her memory, only a hospital and a cheap hotel. After that, there had been a miscarriage, and after that, Danny.… You wondered, looking back, how you had managed to weather it all.

Perhaps, though, when two people loved each other, problems even strengthened a marriage. Together you overcame. Of course you did. For here they were, held close in prosperity and health. Adam had his good job, and she was assistant to the head of the science department.
Their children flourished. Nina was on her way. What more could one ask of life?

Presently, the music came to an end. Fred Davis departed with Jimmy and a temporary supply of puppy food. The cousins left with praise:
Delicious food, a lovely family, a lovely day.
And Nina prepared her good-byes, for she was to leave in the morning.

“Remember, you two, that you promised to come to New York in the fall.”

“We’ll be there,” Adam promised. “It’s four years now since we’ve been at the opera, and we owe ourselves a treat. Besides seeing you,” he added.

The house was closing up, with lights out and doors locked. Margaret was the last at the back door, waiting for the dogs to come in after their final run. The sky was misted, a few drops pattered, and the air was cool on her face.

“A lovely day,” Louise had said, and so it had been. Blessed, she thought. We are blessed.

The only way you could tell that it was fall outside was to note that brittle leaves were dropping from the meager trees on Nina’s street. Adam, standing at the window, was ready to depart, but the women were still chattering over tea and cookies. It was good, though, to see them so happy with each other, so eager to hear about each other’s school and children, boyfriends and job. Furthermore, he was himself in a mood of well-being. They had tickets for
Der Rosenkavalier
at the Metropolitan tomorrow night, and just before leaving home, reports had been circulating through the company about a possible move into European markets. If so, it should certainly mean a step upward for him.
Ramsey, vice-president for programming, would probably go to Europe and then … So reflecting, he was interrupted in these pleasant thoughts by catching Margaret’s words.

“Adam deserves to be head of engineering. And it’s not just a loyal wife talking either.” She was so earnest, with that little righteous frown of hers! “Wives tell tales, you know, and I’ve heard some of them talking about how people who work with him respect his knowledge. They know what he’s worth. I just hope the big bosses know it too.”

“When you get rich,” Nina said, “you’ll let me do your house for you. Wait till you see the things Louise and Gil have ordered. They really gave me a free hand. It was great fun.”

“I shall never be that rich,” Adam said. “People who actually make things, or invent things, rarely make as much money as people do who merely
sell
things.”

The words were bitter. He knew it, and was at once displeased with himself because he did not want to sound like an envious or bitter man. And he said quickly, “It’s remarkable what you’ve accomplished here with just one room.”

“Do you really like it? Willie and Ernie let me have the furniture at cost. They’re the sweetest guys. And they gave me a bonus for Gil’s big order too. I was going to buy some handsome cabinets to fit that wall, but then I thought that I surely am not going to live in a studio apartment forever, so I bought this ring instead.”

Nina held up her hand, flashing a pretty round stone of a shade between green and blue.

“Nice,” Adam said. “An aquamarine, isn’t it?”

“Cool, like the sea,” Margaret said. “I can see how it
might make you feel good to look at something like that every day.”

The remark was slightly surprising to Adam, since she had never asked for jewelry, and he had never given her any. All she owned was a pearl necklace and a narrow bracelet, perhaps not even real gold, that her mother had left her. In any case, they had too many expenses to think of jewelry. Pity the man who gets Nina, he thought; they are undoubtedly flocking around her already, but the one who gets her had better think twice unless he is rich enough to provide rings and antique tables.