Treasures (12 page)

No, Eddy said to himself. If you hadn’t assumed I was just one of Terry’s insignificant friends, you son of a bitch, you’d have looked at me very differently. But aloud, in his most gracious manner, he replied that he was happy to be here this evening and to meet Terry’s family and friends.

Money, money, he thought as he turned back to Pamela. Eddy Osborne without it is nothing. But I knew that, didn’t I? And that’s why I left Ohio.

“What’s Osborne and Company? Is it stupid of me not to know?” asked Pamela.

“Finance. Investments. And it’s not stupid of you. Why should you know? You probably know a hundred things that that old fossil doesn’t know.”

“Well … horses, dogs, animals, the environment. All that stuff. That’s what I’m involved with. But he hurt you, didn’t he? You shouldn’t let people like him hurt you.”

“Thanks. I won’t.” He looked into the clear gaze of long, almond-shaped gray eyes under a rosy-tanned low forehead. “Dogs and horses, you said? Tell me about them.”

“Well, I love horses. I teach at a riding school—”

“How old are you? Where do you live? Do you mind my questions?”

“I’m twenty-two, and I live with my mother not far from here, and no, I don’t mind your questions.”

“I’m twenty-seven, and I live and work in New York. I live alone. I’d like to get the hell out of here so we can talk, Pamela. That is, if you’d like to,” he added quickly.

“I would, but obviously we can’t. And I’m called Pam.”

“How about tomorrow? May I take you to dinner?” When she nodded, he gave her a pen and a scrap of paper. “Write down your phone number and some directions to your house. Six-thirty all right?”

“Fine. And now we’d better join the general conversation,” she said very properly. “We’re being rude.”

He understood the propriety. She had breeding and manners. The Eastern Establishment, that was the expression. She had that air. And heart too. The way she’d seen through the old snob.

She’s something new, he thought when he left her that night.

The back road was not far from the Sound. He had driven through here before and knew his way. The houses were far apart, most of them the bulky, brown-shingled summer “cottages,” secluded at the end of a lane and built by New York families in the early years of the century. Turning into such a lane, he passed through a tunnel of overgrown, dark shrubbery and stopped in front of a wraparound porch from which the paint was peeling. The place had seen better days.

Pam, with a shining smile, came down the steps. Looking at her, he felt curiously lighthearted.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, “because I’ve made a
reservation at what I’m told is the best French restaurant within fifty miles.”

“I’m always hungry.”

“It certainly doesn’t show,” he answered with another quick appraisal of her body, which was lean, well curved, and taut.

“Exercise. I’m a sports freak, but mostly, as I told you, I ride. Do you?”

“Ride?” Eddy, having never been on a horse, hesitated. “I haven’t ridden in years, but I’ve been thinking that I’d like to start doing it again.”

“Oh, do! It’s marvelous. There’s nothing like getting up early, while the world’s still asleep, except for yourself, the horse, and the birds. What I like best is riding along the beach.”

She had a pleasing, animated way of speaking, so he encouraged her with his comments and questions. He had insisted upon having a very private table at a corner window overlooking the twilight garden, and there they sat undisturbed until long after black darkness fell. By that time he had learned many things, among them that she had been a debutante, that her father had died, and that her mother had given up their New York apartment to economize.

“Mother gave a dance for me at the Pierre. She really couldn’t afford it, and I wouldn’t have cared if I hadn’t had it, but tradition means a lot to her. Our family has lots of traditions. It used to have money, too, a couple of generations ago, but somehow the money just ebbed away, got less and less. I never understand how that can happen.”

“Oh, it happens very easily,” Eddy said. “Takes no effort at all.”

They both laughed. “I really don’t mind,” Pam said. “I like my life here. The riding lessons pay well enough, and what can be better than getting paid for doing what you love to do?”

“What about the winters out here?”

“We have indoor rings when we can’t go out on the trails.”

“And what do you do when—” He broke off. “Please excuse me. I suddenly realize I’ve been asking too many questions. It’s a failing of mine. When I meet a person I like, I always want to know everything about him right away. I’m sorry.”

“No, please! You were asking me what I do when …?”

“When you’re not busy around horses.”

“Oh, I’m a volunteer. My mother calls me a professional volunteer. I work at the animal shelter, and I’m on a committee to save the wetlands, and the Sierra Club, and stuff like that. I get really enraged when I see developers tearing into this earth. They’ll rip it apart until there’ll be nothing green left. We people who live here all year round love this place. It’s not just a vacation spot to us.”

In his daily travels between the office tower and the apartment tower, Eddy had to confess that he had been giving very little thought of late to whether the earth was green or not. He tried to think of another woman or man he had ever met who was worried about wetlands or stray animals, and could not. These must be chiefly
the concerns of people who have owned land in the same place for years and cherished it, he thought. Interesting. Another world, not like any world he had ever known. And he wondered what she might be thinking about him.…

Driving back to his club, he reviewed the evening. Should he try to see her again? It was a long way out there from his club, and he certainly had no dearth of women who were more conveniently situated. She wasn’t a tremendous beauty. As to the possibilities of sex, in spite of the fact that she obviously had a splendid body, he had a feeling that she would be rather cool in that respect. And yet there was something about her.…

He was still in this state of mild concern when he walked into the club. There in the lobby someone hailed him.

“Osborne?” An elderly man, one of Mr. Hartman’s friends, went up to Eddy. “I’m Julian Jasper. You’ve met me at the Hartmans’, in case you don’t remember me.”

Eddy held out his hand. “Of course I remember you, Mr. Jasper.”

Anyone would, anyone who was at all in the know. Having made his fortune years ago in Bolivian tin, Jasper, now retired, had become one of the city’s prominent philanthropists, with a seat on the boards of a dozen charities.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Can we sit down for a minute?”

A request for a donation was sure to follow, but that was all right. There was enough coming in, and it was
only right that some of it should go out. So Eddy waited.

“You may have heard that I’m to be the new chairman of Mount Mercy’s board.”

“Yes, I read about it in the
Times
, Mr. Jasper.”

“Well, I have a big job ahead, Osborne. It’s an old hospital, its needs are tremendous, and I need help to meet them.”

“I understand.” Twenty-five thousand? Eddy was thinking. Fifty?

“The board is too old. What I mean is, most of us have been on it for years, we’ve gotten no new blood for ten years at least, and I intend to bring some in. New blood and young blood with fresh ideas. Would you be interested?”

Eddy was unsure that he had heard correctly. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” he said.

“I’m offering you a place on Mount Mercy’s board.”

He was flabbergasted. Membership in this most distinguished body, he who had come as a nobody to this city? Naturally, a very large donation would be expected; a hundred thousand, he quickly guessed; but it would be worth it ten times over in honor and prestige.

“I’m overwhelmed, Mr. Jasper. Of course I accept. Who wouldn’t? Yes, I’m overwhelmed. There’s no other word for it.”

The other was pleased. “You’ll be a great asset to us, Osborne. Hartman’s said fine things about you, and of course, I’ve heard your name mentioned most favorably on Wall Street. Yes, yes, young blood. I’d like to introduce
you to the other members someday soon. Lunch at the Harvard Club, perhaps?”

“Wonderful. Any day. I’m delighted, Mr. Jasper. Delighted.”

As always, he had to keep himself from whistling all the way up to his room. Well, well, Vernon Edward Osborne, you’re moving ahead.

Then, all of a sudden, his thoughts went back to Pam Granger, and he made a connection. He could almost hear the connection click in his head. The real reason for his hesitation about calling her again was a very simple one: He had been afraid of rejection. He had been afraid that she was, after all, too different, too far out of his reach. A strange insecurity for Eddy Osborne, who would have said that insecurity was one feeling from which he rarely suffered! But this brief encounter downstairs just now had lofted his place in the world to a new height. And he reached for the telephone.

“Pam? I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, I’m reading in bed.”

In bed. Long hair loose on the pillow. White nightgown sheer enough to see through to the rosy flesh.

“I don’t know about you, Pam, but I had a great time tonight. Would you care to repeat it?”

“Why, I’d love to, Eddy.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Wonderful.”

“Fine. Shall I pick you up at six?”

“I have a thought,” she said. “It’s going to be another beautiful day, so how would you like to meet me at the stables and go riding? I’m free all afternoon.”

Whatever had he told her? He seemed to remember having given the impression that he knew all about horsemanship but had simply been away from it for a time. What a fix! He had a vague recollection of having read that one mounted on the animal’s left and rose and sank in the saddle as the creature moved. That was called “posting.” And that was all he knew.

“Eddy? Are you there?”

“Yes. Oh, yes. Pam, I was only thinking, my riding clothes are at home.”

“Oh, dear!”

He thought quickly: Buy an outfit the first thing in the morning, then wing it. You’ve always been athletic, and it can’t be that hard.

“I’ll buy some stuff in the morning. My old stuff’s probably moth-eaten, anyway. I haven’t had it on in so long. And be prepared. I’ll be stiff as a board, I’m sure.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll all come back to you. Besides, don’t forget, I’m an instructor.”

He felt so eager, so excited, that he sang in the shower that night. A man didn’t often have two triumphs in one day.

So began a memorable week. Because he had assured himself that his first attempt to ride a horse would be successful, so it was. At least, it was no failure. Smart in the new habit and armed beforehand with an hour’s worth of study from a paperback book of instructions, Eddy managed to give a fair performance.

“Am I too awful?” he asked Pam as, carefully, they walked their horses past low-hanging branches.

“For somebody who hasn’t ridden in years, you’re doing well,” she assured him. “All you need is practice.”

Actually, he was enjoying himself. Tomorrow he would certainly have a sore rear, but that was unimportant. One could get hooked on this sport, he felt. It was a whole lot better than golf, which had always seemed too slow for him.

The city, in the days that followed, might as well have been on another planet for all the differences between its noisy, melting streets and the bliss of fresh winds and airy lawns. Pam and Eddy went exploring. They sailed, swam, sat on a dock eating lobster sandwiches, played tennis, and laughed a good deal. To Pam’s surprise Eddy wanted to take a tour of historic houses; she was even more surprised at how much he knew about furniture periods and architectural styles.

“I like to have beautiful things around me,” he said simply, “so I need to learn about them.”

She took him then to an antique shop, where they both browsed and he bought a pair of Staffordshire figures, authentic and charming, but modestly priced. In the same shop he saw a pair of Dresden figurines, which were naturally expensive; those he would have liked to buy, but did not do so for fear of seeming ostentatious before Pam, whom after all he scarcely knew. One evening they went to an Italian movie, on another to an outdoor concert, and on one had a backyard supper at Pam’s house, then sat on the porch with her mother, who went upstairs after a proper interval.

On the sixth night, under a bright moon, they came back to the porch. The house was already dark, and
there was no sound as they came up the steps but for the thumping of the old dog’s tail.

“I haven’t seen him before,” said Eddy. “Where are the poodles?”

“They sleep in my mother’s room. This is Buster. He’s mine. I rescued him from the pound. His owners left him there after twelve years. Can you believe it? It could have broken your heart to see the look in his eyes. He couldn’t understand why they were walking away without him. So I took him, and I think he’s getting over his loss. Poor guy.”

I really like her. I really do, he said to himself. And curiously, he asked, “Tell me. Do you ever look far ahead? Plan what you want to do with your life, I mean?”

“Oh, I’d like to live pretty much as I’m living now. And someday have a husband and children, but not for a long time.”

That seemed strange, since she wasn’t one of the competitive career women who filled the banks and the law offices these days. Most other women had “marriage” written on their faces after the first half-dozen meetings.

He pressed her. “You don’t feel that you’re missing anything?”

“No. I like being independent. What should I miss?”

He hesitated and then took a chance. “Well, sex, for instance.”

She laughed. “I don’t deprive myself. Not when I meet the right person.”

He pressed again. “How do you recognize when you’ve met him?”

And she, laughing again, replied, “Now, you know better than to ask a silly question like that!”

Their chairs were so close that their knees almost touched. The sweetest, most alluring fragrance lay on the air: her perfume or that flowering vine that climbed the railing? He stood up and took both her hands. Her body, yielding easily, rose up to meet his.