Remembrance (18 page)

“How do you know that I don't dislike it as much as you dislike what you were born to?”

“Because I know you. The only thing you don't like about it is being conspicuous, showy. You don't want to appear a snob. But you don't have basic differences with your very roots, Serena. You belong in that world, and if that world still existed, I would never have taken you from it, because right now America is a place where the people don't understand the kind of world you come from. But it's the best we've got, kiddo, and all we can do is explain it to them. And if they've got any smarts at all”—he smiled gently—”we won't have to explain a damn thing. Because what you are, the beauty and the grace and the goodness and the sheer elegance of it all is written all over you, principessa or no. It wouldn't matter if you called yourself Mrs. Jones, my love, you are a princess to your very soul.”

“That's silly.” She was smiling and blushing faintly in embarrassment. “If I hadn't told you, you'd never have known.”

“I certainly would.”

“You would not.” She was teasing him now and he set down his glass and took her in his arms in the beautiful blue velvet and mahogany cabin, and he kissed her hard on the mouth, and then swept her into his arms with one powerful gesture and deposited her on the room's large handsome bed.

“Don't move. I have to fix something.” She smiled at his retreating back as he marched to the door of the cabin, took off the Do Not Disturb sign, opened the door, and slipped it on the knob on the other side. “That ought to take care of the maid.” He turned to her with a broad grin, closed the curtains, and began to loosen his tie.

“And just what does that mean, Colonel?” She looked at him archly from the bed, every inch a princess, except that there was laughter bubbling over in her eyes.

“Just what do you think it means, Mrs. Fullerton?”

“In broad daylight? Here? Now?”

“Why not?” He sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed her again.

“Good God! I'll get pregnant.”

“Terrific. We'll have twin girls.”

“Oh, don't say—” But he never let her finish her sentence. His mouth was pressed down hard on hers and a moment later they had pulled back the handsome blue satin covers, to reveal white linen sheets with the monogram of the French line neatly embroidered in blue. The sheets were smooth and cool against her flesh, and his hands were warm on her breasts and her thighs as he pressed against her and she found herself hungering to feel him inside her. She moaned his name softly, and he ran his lips across her mouth and her eyes and her hair as his hands worked magic, and then suddenly, lunging toward her, he took her almost by surprise.

“Oh.” It was a single prolonged sound of astonishment and then pleasure, lost in a symphony of soft murmurs and moans, as the ship slowly left the dock and they began their voyage home.

17

The days on the
Liberté
flew too quickly. The weather was unusually good on the Atlantic, and even the usual June breezes never came up to plague them, as they lay in deck chairs side by side. Serena was only troubled once or twice by some vague queasiness before breakfast, but by the time they had eaten, taken a turn around the deck, played shuffleboard once, or chatted with some of the people they had met, Serena had always long since forgotten her malaise by then, and spent the rest of the day in total enjoyment. They usually lunched alone, retired to their cabin for a nap, and returned to the deck, before going in to change for tea, when they invariably met new people, spoke to some they had met in the days before, and listened to the chamber music. It all reminded Serena very much of her grandmother and their friends, the music they liked, the food they loved best, the grand meals, the formal dress, the gray lace dresses with pink satin underslips, with several rows of pearls and perfectly plain pumps of gray satin. It was none of it alien to her, and appeared to Serena to be part of a life she had once lived. But it was not unknown to B.J. either, and time and again they seemed to meet people whom his parents had known, or his uncles, or with whom they had mutual friends.

On the whole it was an easygoing, relaxed, delightful trip, and they were both sorry on the last night at the prospect of seeing their journey come to an end when they reached New York.

“Maybe we should just stow away and go back to Paris.”

“No.” She said it decidedly, propped up on one elbow in their bed after they made love. “I want to go to New York and meet your family, and then I want to see San Francisco, and all the cowboys and Indians. I think I'm going to like the Wild West.”

B.J. laughed openly at the visions she conjured. “The only thing wild about it is your imagination.”

“No cowboys or Indians? Not even one or two?”

“Not in San Francisco. We'll have to go to the Rockies to see cowboys.”

“Good.” She looked delighted as she kissed his neck. “Then we'll go there on a trip. Right?”

“And when do you plan to do all this, madame? Right up until you have the baby?”

“Of course. What do you expect me to do?” Now she looked amused. “Stay home and knit booties all the time?”

“Sounds about right to me.”

“Well, it doesn't to me. I want to do something, Brad.”

“Oh, God, save me.” He fell back among his pillows with a groan. “It's a Modern Woman. What do you want to do? Go out and work?”

“Why not? This is America. It's a democratic country. I could get involved in politics.” Her eyes twinkled a little and he held up a hand.

“That you could not! One woman like that in my family is enough, thank you. Figure out something else. Besides, dammit” —he looked only faintly annoyed as he knit his brows—”you're going to have a baby in six months. Can't you just relax and do that?”

“Maybe. But maybe I could do something else too. At least while I'm waiting.”

“We'll find you some nice volunteer work.” She nodded slowly in answer, but lately she had been thinking a great deal about San Francisco. Neither of them knew anyone there, and Brad would meet people on the base, but she wanted to be doing something too. She didn't want to just sit there, with her big belly, waiting. She said as much to him a minute later. “But why not?” He looked perplexed. “Isn't that what women do?”

“Not all women. There must be women who do something more than that while they're pregnant. You know”—she looked pensive for a moment—”the poor women in Italy work, they go out and work in the fields, in stores, in bakeries, at whatever they normally do, and one day, boom, out comes the baby, and that's that, off they go with the baby under their arm.” She smiled at the thought and he laughed again at the image.

“You have a certain way with words, my love. Is that what you want to do? Boom, out comes the baby, while you're working in the fields?”

She looked at him strangely then. “I was happy when I was working with Marcella.”

“Good God, Serena. That was awful, for chrissake, working as a maid in your parents' own home.”

“The idea was awful, but the work wasn't. It felt good. I felt as though I accomplished something every day. It wasn't that what I was doing was important, it was that I was doing a lot, and I was doing it well.” She looked like a proud little girl as she glanced at him. “I had a lot of responsibility, you know.”

He kissed the tip of her nose gently. “I know you did, little one. And you worked damn hard. Too hard. I don't ever want you to have to do something like that again.” He looked pleased at knowing that that would never happen. “And you won't. You're married to me now, darling. And about the only good thing about the Fullerton name is that it comes equipped with enough comfort to keep not only us but our children safe from that kind of hardship, for always.”

“That's nice to know.” But she didn't look overly impressed. “But I would have loved you even if you were poor.”

“I know you would, darling. But it's nice not to have to worry about that, isn't it?” She nodded slowly and snuggled into his arms, before they both fell asleep. Just before she did, she thought once more of her life in San Francisco, and knew that she wanted to do something more than just have a baby. The baby was wonderful and exciting, but she wanted to do something else too. She hadn't figured out what yet, but she knew that in time she would.

At six o'clock the next morning the steward knocked on their door, to let them know that they were coming into New York. They weren't going to be docking until 10 A.M., but it was customary to enter the harbor very early. After that there were the usual formalities to be handled, and every effort was made not to inconvenience passengers by docking too early. But there was something very special about passing the Statue of Liberty at sunrise, with the golden sunlight streaking across the sky and reflecting off her arm and torch and crown. It was a sight that rarely failed to stir intense feelings, and those who got up early enough to see her always felt a special bond with their country as the ship glided into port. Serena was moved beyond words as they passed the statue lighting her way to a new life.

Even B.J. was strangely silent. The last time he had come home had been only for a brief visit, on a military flight. This time he felt as though he were coming home from the wars at last, with his wife at his side, to the country he loved. It was a feeling of well-being and gratitude that welled up inside him like a sunburst, and he knew no other way to vent it but to take Serena in his arms and hold her tight.

“Welcome home, Serena.”

“Grazie.”
She whispered softly to him as they kissed in the soft orange light of the June morning.

“We're going to have a beautiful life here, my darling.” It was a promise that he meant to keep for a lifetime, hers as well as his own.

“I know we will. And our baby too.”

He held her hand tightly, and they stood there for almost an hour, watching New York from the distance, as the ship hovered in the harbor, waiting for immigration officials and tugboats and clearances and red tape and all the rest of the brouhaha that always went with arrivals, but Serena and B.J. were oblivious to it all, they stood on deck, hand in hand, thinking of what lay ahead.

At precisely the same moment Brad's mother sat in her bed on Fifth Avenue, drinking a cup of coffee, her brows knit, her eyes dark, thinking of her oldest son and the woman he was bringing home. If she could have, she would have liked to force Brad to dispose of Serena as quickly as possible, but she had not yet come up with a reasonable suggestion as to how that could be done. She no longer had a hold on any of Brad's money, there was no job he depended on his family for now. In his own way he had flown the coop and now he was hovering above them, doing just what he wanted, in his own way, with this damned Italian tramp he was bringing home.… His mother set down her coffee cup with a clatter, pushed back the covers, and strode out of bed with a determined air.

18

As Serena stepped down the gangplank, walking ahead of Brad, she could feel her heart pound within her. What would they be like? What would they say? In her heart Serena held a glimmer of hope that Mrs. Fullerton—the other Mrs. Fullerton, she smiled to herself—would come around. The pressure of it all weighed on her like a thousand-pound weight as she stepped off the boat in a cream-colored linen suit, with an ivory silk blouse, and her hair done in the familiar figure-eight bun. She looked terribly young and strikingly lovely, and there was something so vulnerable and so fresh about her, like a white rose, standing alone in a crystal vase. One wanted to reach out and touch her, yet no one would have dared. Her white kid gloves were impeccable on her hands as she barely touched the railing, and she looked back once at Brad, and he could read everything in her eyes. He leaned toward her with a word of encouragement as they got closer to land.

“Don't look so worried. They won't attack you, I swear it.” To himself he silently added, “They wouldn't dare,” but in truth he knew that some of them would—his mother … Pattie … Greg, if he was under the influence of either of those women … his father? He wasn't sure. Only Teddy was someone that one could be sure of.

The steward had given her two very pretty gardenias as they left the ship that morning, and she was wearing them both on her lapel.

He could smell the rich fragrance as he walked behind her. “Cheer up, kid!”

She glanced back at him again, and this time he could see that she was pale with fear. It wasn't fair to put her through something like this, and for a moment he hated his mother. Why couldn't she have been some fat kindly old lady, instead of the sleek feline queen of the jungle that she was … a perfect panther, waiting to stalk her prey. B.J. could imagine her waiting, catlike and predatory, prowling the dock impatiently. He had to shake his head to rid himself of the image. But when they reached the section of the dock labeled F, in which they had to stand to wait for their trunks and meet the customs inspectors, Brad realized there was no one there to meet them. He saw neither of his parents and no familiar faces. It was a far cry from the raucous reception he had got at the airport a year before, and he felt an odd mixture of both disappointment and relief wash over him as he took Serena's hand.

“You can relax. They're not here.”

Her brows knit into a worried frown. “Don't you think they're coming?” Would they shun him entirely because of her? It was what she had feared all along, why at first she had insisted on not marrying him, and had stayed on to mourn him in Rome.

“For heaven's sake, Serena, you look like someone died. Stop that. They're probably just busy as hell with the damn wedding. We'll just take a cab and go to the house.” But even to him it seemed an oddly casual return after all this time.

And then he saw him, standing fifty yards away, watching them, a grin lighting up his face, making the blue eyes dance, Brad knew, without even seeing him closely. He could already imagine the little wrinkles near his eyes when he smiled. He had a way of smiling that lit up his whole face and made two deep dimples that had been his misery as a child. He was wearing white flannel slacks, a blue blazer, and a boater, and he looked wonderful to Brad as he hurried toward them. Suddenly all he wanted to do was hug him tight, but it was to Serena that Teddy was hurrying, a huge bouquet, of red roses tucked into his arms, the smile Brad loved lighting up his face, and his eyes only for her, like a long-lost brother or friend. He stopped dead in front of her, looking dumbstruck at her overwhelming elegance and beauty, and threw his arms around her, in a hug that took her breath away.

“Hello, Serena. Welcome home!” He said it with an emphasis and enthusiasm that brought smiles to their faces and tears to their eyes, and Serena returned his hug with equal strength as he held her. It was like being enfolded by someone one had always loved and wanted to be loved by. “I'm so glad you're both here.” He looked over her shoulder at his favorite brother, and Brad couldn't wait a moment longer. He threw his arms around them both, and they stood there, laughing and crying, the three of them locked in a bear hug and standing beside the huge ship that had brought them home.

It seemed ages before Teddy let her go, and she stood back to look up at the younger brother she had heard so much about. He was even taller than Brad, and in some ways better-looking, and yet not, she realized as she looked at their faces while they chattered eagerly about everything, the wedding, their parents, the trip. Brad's features were more perfect, his shoulders broader, and he seemed a great deal more sophisticated as she looked at her husband with pride. Yet Teddy had something special, and it was impossible not to see it. It was almost a kind of glow, a kind of excitement that lit up his soul and everyone who came within his sphere. There was a joy and a warmth and a love about him that bubbled over the edges and exploded like fireworks on the Fourth of July. It was impossible not to like him, not to want to reach out and become part of his life. And Serena felt the pull of it too as she stood back and watched him, but she felt something else as well, a wave of admiration from him that was so overpowering, she wasn't sure how to react. Despite the rapid-fire conversation between the brothers, Teddy hadn't taken his eyes off Serena since he'd arrived. And finally he spoke to her again.

“Serena, you are
so beautiful?”
He seemed knocked right off his feet and Serena could only laugh.

“Not only that,” her husband added, “she's a princess. How about that!”

“She looks it.” The younger brother said it with total seriousness, and Brad watched him with tenderness and amusement.

“Now, don't go falling in love with her, kiddo, I saw her first.”

But there was a kind of total overwhelming awe in Teddy's face that almost made you want to look away while he gazed at Serena.

“My God, you're lovely.” He couldn't take his eyes off her face, but it was Serena who broke the spell.

She whispered at him over the armful of roses he handed her after they embraced.

“Actually I'm not really Serena. I'm a girl Brad met on the ship and he asked me to take her place.”

“Cute though, isn't she?” Brad put a mildly possessive arm around his bride. After all, his brother was twelve years younger than he, and only three years older than his wife, he didn't want the boy to get carried away. “By the way, how is our charming sister-in-law-to-be?”

Teddy's sunny face clouded over for a long moment. “Fine, I guess.” His voice was both vague and subdued as Brad and Serena watched him. “Greg's been drunk every night for the past two weeks. I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean. Good times or terror?”

“Maybe a little of both.” Brad was watching his brother's eyes.

But Teddy was always honest with him. “I don't think Greg knows what he's doing, Brad. Or maybe he doesn't want to know, which is even worse.”

“Are you suggesting that someone stop this thing? Now?” Brad looked upset as he asked.

“I don't know. Mother's sure as hell not going to do it. Greg is rapidly becoming her great white hope. Ever since you've decided to become a professional soldier”—he looked disparagingly at his brother, but Brad only grinned—”and it's obvious that I'll never play the family game, it looks like Greg is it.”

“Poor kid.” For a moment Brad didn't say more, and then the customs officials arrived to check through their trunks and look at their passports. He asked for Teddy's as well, but Teddy quickly pulled out a special pass. One of his father's political friends had got it for him from the mayor of New York, and it allowed him to meet friends at ships, and not have to wait until they cleared customs. It was convenient at times like this, but the customs man felt patronized by Teddy's inadvertent show of rank.

“Special privileges, eh?”

Teddy looked mildly embarrassed. “Just this once. My brother hasn't been home since the war.” He waved at Brad, and the customs man's face immediately softened.

“Coming home on the
Liberté,
son? Not a bad way to travel.”

“Not at all. We managed to turn it into a honeymoon.”

“Your wife go over to meet you?” He had only checked the luggage. His partner had handled the passports and seen that Serena was Italian, but this man had no way of knowing. She hadn't said a word.

“No.” Brad looked down at her proudly. “I met my wife over there. In Rome.”

“Italian?” The customs man's eyes narrowed as he looked her over, in all her perfect ivory and golden beauty, the gardenias on her lapel, and the sun glinting on her hair, as he stood in his grayed uniform with spots on the tie and dirt under his nails.

“Yes, my wife is Italian. From Rome.” Brad repeated with a smile, as the other man began to glare.

“Plenty of girls in this country to marry, sonny. Or didn't you remember? Christ, some of you young guys got over there and forgot what was back home.” He glared at all three of them, and then hurried away to inspect someone else's bags. There was an angry light in Brad's eyes and blind fury in Teddy's, but Serena put a hand on each of their arms and shook her head.

“Don't. It doesn't matter. He's just an angry old man. Maybe someone jilted his daughter.”

“Maybe someone ought to smash his face.” Teddy was quick to volunteer but Brad looked as though he would have liked to help him.

“Never mind. Let's go home.” The two men exchanged a look, Brad sighed slowly and then nodded.

“Okay, princess, you win.” But he looked at her almost sadly. “This time.” And then he bent to kiss her. “I don't ever want anyone saying things like that around you again.”

“But they will.” It was only a whisper. “Maybe it'll take time.”

“Bull,” Teddy spoke and she laughed at him then, and they hailed a porter and began the final leg home.