The First Wives Club (54 page)

Annie thought of Miguel, and how her dates with him were becoming more and more important. When she’d got back from Japan early, she was surprised to find how happy she was when Miguel phoned almost the moment he heard she got in. Maybe Elise has something, too, she thought.

”Good, Elise,” Annie thought. “At the risk of sounding like a cliche, life is too short.”

Annie noticed how tired Elise seemed. ‘I better get going, ladies.

Where are you staying tonight, Elise?”

“I’m going to stay here so I can get an early start packing things in the morning. I’m afraid if I go home, I won’t be able to ever come back.”

Brenda was surprised. “But you’ll be here by yourself tonight, won’t you? I heard you send the servants home.” Brenda shook her head.

“I’m staying With you, Elise.” She paused. “Unless you want to be alone.”

“Oh, no, Brenda. Thanks. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I could stay, too, Elise. Want me to?” Annie asked.

“Let’s have a pajama party, girls,” Elise said, smiling.

Aaron sat, biting a pencil, leaning at the granite-topped counter in the SoHo loft he shared with Leslie. He looked down and reread the sentence he had just written. Therefore, with my resignation, I expect the removal of my name from the ParadiselLoest Agency. He shook his head, took the pencil from between his lips, and erased with and replaced it with effectivefrom the date of. He read it again, shook his head, and sighed. Then the intercom buzzer sounded.

It was Chris, downstairs. He buzzed him in. He’d expected Chris to show up eventually, apologize, and tell him he’d either quit or been fired. When Chris’s call had finally come, it had been a relief, since all his other predictions had been dead wrong.

Right after the fiasco, when he spoke to Drew and accused him of disloyalty, Drew had laughed and pointed out that Aaron had started it by bringing Chris into the firm. Then Karen had resigned, but not because of the Jerry takeover but because she was pregnant— pregnant by Chris! Julie hadn’t taken his calls at all, and, mortified, Aaron had decided not to contact any of the other bastards. Only his formal resignation was left.

He went into the bathroom, looked at himself in the mirror, and moaned at the drawn face peering back. He splashed it with cold water, knowing that wouldn’t take the place of a good night’s sleep and a shave, then walked to the door at the sound of Chris’s knock. The kid was probably hysterical over the pregnancy. He’d need advice.

“Dad, we have to talk,” Chris said as he walked into Aaron’s living room and slumped onto the sofa. Aaron had been looking forward to this visit since Chris’s telephone call, but now, seeing Chris’s expression, he was concerned. Was this another wrong prediction?

“What’s up, Chris?” Aaron asked. “I haven’t seen you since the partners’ meeting.”

Chris shrugged. “Not much. Except I’m moving in with Karen, we’re having a baby.”

Aaron almost smiled. The kid was that naive. “Whoa, Chris. Let’s not rush into this. You know, Chris, she’s been around the block a couple of times.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, just look before you leap. Don’t take on a responsibility that isn’t yours.”

Chris was silent for a moment. He probably needed time to let it sink in. But when he did speak his voice was angry. “Don’t say that. I know the baby’s mine. We didn’t plan it for now, but I want Karen, and I want the baby.”’ He stood and strode over to the window, looking out on a brick wall. He cleared his throat, his back to Aaron.

“Well, what will you do for money? Where will you work?”

”Dad, Karen supports my decision to stay on at the agency and work with Jerry, learning the business. Jerry is the best director of commercials in the industry, and he’s willing to teach me.”

Chris turned from the window and faced his father. “I love the business. I’m staying at the agency.”

Aaron could hardly believe it. ‘Chris, Jerry manipulated me out, for chrissakes, it’s as simple as that. You’re going to go on working with the man who did that to me?” He leaned over and clasped Chris’s shoulder, though the kid looked away.

Chris shrugged his father’s hand off without looking at him. “He just did to you what you were going to do to him, Dad. And only because you forced his hand. Don’t play white knight’ with me.” Now Chris turned his gaze to his father, then he turned away again, looking at the floor. “When you and Mom broke up, I didn’t take sides, although I felt deeply for Mom and her loneliness. You had Leslie. Mom had no one. But I didn’t judge you.”

Chris’s eyes glistened, but he turned to look at his father despite the brimming tears. “I tried so hard to keep you on a pedestal because I wanted you to love me. I’ve always wanted that.

But then I heard about what you did with Sylvie’s trust fund, and I couldn’t ignore the facts any longer.

Like how you conduct business, trying to push Jerry out. How you were treating Mom, and not even visiting Sylvie.”’ Aaron felt Chris’s eyes burn into him but could not look away, like watching the aftermath of a terrible accident on the side of the road.

”She wasn’t perfect enough. Neither was Mom. Neither was I. I saw that. And I saw how it was Alex that you always boasted about to people. He is perfect, the poor bastard. Perfectly miserable. But he’s your number one son. Do you know, when I first came to work at the clinic tn h_r the. t AArnn PArA(iCf h…1 tu)n Couples.

It had been a very hard day. Annie looked up from her desk in the large, sunny kitchen and rested her eyes by staring out the window at Gracie Square. Today, she had not been working on the manuscript which was growing, slowly, slowly, since her return from Japan weeks ago.

Instead she’d been doing what she thought of as her math homework.

She figured she could get almost a million for the apartment. Maybe a bit more. Then, if she sold off the furnishings—some of the things her father had left her were quite good—she might raise as much as another $150,000 or a bit more. Invested conservatively, she could safely count on its bringing in $100,000 a year. That would pay for Sylvie’s school and leave a little bit over. With prudent management it could take care of Sylvie for the rest of her life.

Where Annie would live and how she would take care of herself was not so clear. She could sell Nana’s cottage, but she hated to do that—it wouldn’t bring much anyhow, and she’d always hoped to leave it to the boys. She still had a little cash—enough to rent a modest apartment for a year or so. She could get a studio apartment for about a thousand a month. Then what?

The image of herself, divorced, living in a boxlike room and trying to make it on a few hundred a week frightened her. She could move somewhere less expensive, but where?

Everyone she knew was here. She had lived in New York all her adult life.

Of course, Aaron would be getting quite a payout for his share of the agency, although all the particulars weren’t worked out. And some of that money would flow back to Sylvie. Annie had to smile. By selling Bill’s antiques to Brenda, Elise had managed to revenge herself on Bill, jump-start Brenda’s career, and get some of Sylvie’s tuition paid. All in a single shot.

But Aaron had told her he needed funds to start his own firm, and Annie had decided never to depend on him again. She alone would ensure that Sylvie would be cared for.

She pushed herself away from the desk, got up, and began to wander through the apartment. It was a clear day, but the bright sky did nothing t cheer her. Living in a dark room, giving up this light, this view, this comfort, was an awful thought. That was why she had put off thinking about her finances for so long. But it was clear that she had to do something.

She wouldn’t take money from Elise, nor would she accept anything from Mr. Tanaki, though she was delighted that he was thinking of endowing Sylvan Glades and had, to that end, underwritten Dr. Gancher’s visit to Japan to consider establishing another school there. Lastly, she had had to give up on Aaron and his promises to repay the trust. No, she’d just have to do something on her own.

The silken rug caressed her bare feet, the dark shine of the mahogany dining table glinted. There’d be no room in a new place for a dining table. She walked through the living room to the conservatory. The bonsai, her favorite, the maple, seemed to nod at her as she walked by.

They had been her friends, her witnesses, as she had grown up here, as she had faced her reality. She gently stroked a small, red leaf. They couldn’t survive without a greenhouse. No more bonsai.

She walked out onto the terrace. A light breeze ruffled her hair.

Tears filled her eyes. I should be grateful, she told herself, that I have all this to sell. So few people do. I’ll be able to see all three of my children happy, healthy, and taken care of. I’m not going to starve, and I have good friends, and I may even have some talent.

I’m in charge of my life, and I’m taking the steps I need to. A nice man seems to like me, and I like him. That’s more than most people have. I should be grateful.

But she wasn’t. At the moment she was selfish and she was miserable, and she sat down on the terrace bench and wept.

That evening, Annie and Miguel went out to dinner, to a CubanChinese restaurant on Columbus and Ninety-Fourth Street, farther uptown than the yuppies and trendy West Siders usually got. Her depression from earlier in the day gradually lifted as they drank some inexpensive wine and Miguel made her laugh. He told her about his progress with Morty Cushman—he thought he had a good chance to get him before a grand jury—and that he could build a strong case against Gil Griffin. It wouldn’t solve her problems, but it certainly cheered her. As her father had said, only the strong get justice. She made up her mind that she would be strong.

After dinner, they walked down Columbus, and stopped at the Museum Cafe for a nightcap. Annie rarely got over to the West Side. It seemed younger, more frenetic, more ethnically diverse than her quiet neighborhood. Maybe she could find a place to live over here. But being here alone, she had to admit, she would feel anxious. Now though, she was not alone. She was delightfully coupled with this charming man. She felt a part of the Friday-night bustle as they walked the avenue, arm in arm.

When Miguel led her along the cobblestone path by the planetarium, she knew what was coming. And she was glad.

“Are you cold?” he asked, feeling her shiver. “Shall I take you home?”

“I don’t want to go home. It makes me too sad right now.”

“I know.” He looked at her sympathetically. “My place makes me sad, too.” He paused. “I would like to make love to you.”

“I know. I want you to.”

“But I wouldn’t want to take you back to my place. It isn’t my home.

It’s only where I sleep. It wouldn’t be right.”

She smiled at him. She thought back to the hassle sex had become with Aaron, and how it had led her to Dr. Rosen. Nervous, yet also confident, she thought, somehow, she wouldn’t have a problem with Miguel. It’s because I’m not outraged with him, she thought. It was that simple.

For a long, long time she’d been so angry with Aaron that she couldn’t for a moment have let herself go. If I had, she thought, I might have tried to kill him. He had been truly dreadful to her, and for so long she had refused to see it. She paused for a moment, thought, and then she smiled. She looked at Miguel, then took his hand and led him to the corner. She put out her hand to flag down a cab.

“I know where we can go,” she said quickly, as if inspired.

“Driver,” she told the cabbie, “please take us to the Carlyle.” l They stood very close to each other in the elevator, the key to Room 705 dangling loosely in Annie’s hand, just rubbing against Miguel’s thigh.

Her hands were cold, as always, but she felt the heat that seemed to come in waves from his body. Wordlessly they walked down the hall.

Easily, she fit the key into the lock and opened the door.

“Miguel,” she said as they entered the room, “I’m nervous.”

“So am I.”

“I don’t do this every day.”

“Neither do I.”

“I haven’t slept with anyone except my husband since I was married.”

“Neither have I. I mean, not your husband. My wife.”

“Really?” Somehow, it seemed to Annie that men always had partners.

Knowing Miguel hadn’t didn’t make her any less nervous now. I guess, she thought to herself with surprise, I still expect men to take care of this part. She remembered how easy Aaron had made it for her in Boston. So easy and so wrong.

Now, she took a step toward Miguel, taking his warm hand in her own cold one and gently pulling him to the side of the bed.

“You’re so cold!” he exclaimed.

“Warm me,” she told him.

He smiled and lifted both of her hands to his face. “This is Paradise,” he said, nibbling her ear.

“Annie Paradise?”

“St. Michael in Paradise.”

“Not yet, but soon.”

He bent his head and kissed her palms, his breath so warm, so deliciously tickling her. Then his mouth was on hers, soft, pressing her down onto the bed.

Brenda lay on her back in the wide white bed, her hand on her stomach.

It was definitely flatter. She could feel a bump on either side of her rounded tummy.

When she had discovered the first knob, she’d become frightened, in her family lumps equaled cancer. But when she felt around for a few minutes and found the second one, she’d laughed out loud—despite her scare she had to admit it was funny, not recognizing your own hipbone.

She turned her head to look at Diana, sleeping beside her. Brenda smiled. It was sweet how childlike Diana’s face became when she slept.

Devoid of makeup, her straw-colored hair tousled, she looked like a farm girl. Brenda could hardly believe that this brilliant woman, this funny, successful, savvy broad, actually loved her, and loved her just as she was.

And lately she’d been better and better, Brenda had to admit. It wasn’t just the weight. It seemed to Brenda that for the first time she felt confident enough to say what she felt and not just make wisecracks. The best part was that Diana listened and never seemed to think Brenda was nuts or unreasonable.