A Tangled Web (12 page)

“It's taken a lot of entertaining,” Claudia mused.

“All of it in the budget. We haven't gone over.”

“I know. It's a very big budget. But tonight looks like a good evening; I like your idea of the aquarium.”

“I can't take credit for that,” Garth said, glancing at Sabrina.

“Ah.” Claudia nodded. “I always did like Stephanie's ideas. I'll call you about another lunch, Stephanie; there's something I'd like to talk to you about. Shall I call you at your shop?”

“Yes. If I'm not there, Madeline will be. I'd like lunch; I enjoyed our last one.”

“Good.” She left as abruptly as she had arrived, moving purposefully to a group of guests watching a school of anglerfish glide through the darkened water, their bands of color as luminous as neon.

“What did she mean about a very big budget?” Sabrina asked.

“That we're spending a lot to raise a lot and she'd rather spend a little to raise the same amount. I'd do it if I could, but I haven't found a good way to get someone to write a six- or seven-figure check without some socializing to smooth the way.”

“Claudia ought to do it. You should be thinking about science and running an institute, not going around with your hat in your hand.”

“She does do it, and she's one of the best, but people who write checks with lots of zeroes usually want to see the person who's going to spend them. I can understand that. You look extraordinarily beautiful tonight. You look wonderful in gold, and I like your hair; you've cut it, haven't you? It looks shorter.”

She was laughing. “I have cut it and it is shorter, and I'm glad you like it.” But beneath her laughter a sudden stab of grief cut through her and she shrank into herself, almost breathless with pain. Stephanie had had long hair; the two of them had always worn it tumbling loose to their shoulders and when one of them felt like braiding it or pinning it up, the other had done the same. Why did I cut my hair? she wondered suddenly. I started thinking about it in January and I knew it was the right thing to do. Why was that? Why am I so sure it was right?

“My love,” Garth said gently.

“I'm sorry.” She put her hand on his arm. “I don't mean to go off like that and leave you.”

“I know you don't; it's not something you can control. I think we should leave as soon as possible; how do you feel about that?”

“Wonderful.”

But Garth and Claudia Beyer were hosts for the evening and so they stayed, through dinner and brief speeches, and then dancing. “We're stuck,” Garth said as he and Sabrina moved in a smooth rhythm at the edge of the dance floor. “I can't leave until Claudia does.”

Sabrina slid her hand farther around his shoulders. “I love to dance with you. I'm very happy where I am.”

“I'm very happy with where you are, too.”

They danced in silence. “Sometimes I miss Ambassadors, though,” Sabrina said slowly, almost tentatively, knowing Garth did not like to talk about the past. “That whole crazy business of antiques in Europe, the competition, so much more fierce than here.”

Garth's eyebrows rose. “You want more tension in your life?”

She laughed. “I can't imagine why I would. But I've been thinking about Ambassadors, Garth; I think I ought to go there, just for a few days. It's been two months since I was there, and that was Christmas and they were so busy . . . Anyway, I don't think I should stay away more than two months at a time.”

“You don't trust Nicholas and Brian?”

“I trust Brian; he's worked for me for a long time. But I've never worked with Nicholas and there's so much going on, merging his shop with Ambassadors and both of them with Collectibles in Evanston, it almost feels as if I'm starting over again, and I don't feel I have any real control unless I can be there, at least once in a while. I want to make this work; it means a lot to me.”

“I know it does. Of course you should go. And you've got your house to stay in; that makes it easier.”

“And Mrs. Thirkell. I've decided to bring her here, Garth. She has nothing to do there and—”

“Bring her here?”

“It's that or let her go, and I don't want to do that; she's been with me even longer than Brian has. And why shouldn't we have someone full time to take care of the house, and all of us? You know how wonderful she is; she'd make everything a lot easier.”

The music stopped and they stood still, holding each other lightly. Garth looked beyond Sabrina, at the other dancers. “There's a lot of hostility on a campus when professors seem to be living higher than they should.”

Sabrina stiffened. “Who decides how high they should live?”

“No one; you know that. It's a kind of unwritten community standard that everyone recognizes. And it's not always a bad—”

“So everyone who lives in that community has to fit that standard, is that right? What if I hired Juanita for two days instead of one, or served better wines, or bought a fancier car—would the tongues start wagging? Would somebody paint a hex sign over our front door?”

“Look, I didn't make this up. It's part of the world we live in. And it's not always a bad thing. When you're part of a community you don't lord it over everyone else or give them reasons to think you are. I have more important things to do with my time than deal with whispers and wounded egos. I'm not saying they're inevitable, but—”

“You said, ‘There's a lot of hostility.' ”

“Well, it's happened. It isn't a sure bet that it would this time, but it's a possibility. And why chance it? Hostility makes a lousy atmosphere for research and building a new institute, especially if the people who are hostile know they're not likely ever to have the kind of resources we have.”

“Garth, this is ridiculous; I can't believe you're saying this. If they can't afford a full-time housekeeper, they can't afford one. That's all. It isn't a commentary on their
character or scientific brilliance; all it says is that different people have different bank accounts. And we don't judge people by their bank accounts. At least I don't.”

They had walked a little distance away from the dance floor to a quiet corner, their heads close together, their voices low. Their bodies were tense, and no one interrupted them.

“You haven't lived on a campus,” Garth said impatiently. “You might try to understand how people feel when they make just enough to support a family without a wagonload of frills.”

“I might try to understand? There was a time when I didn't earn enough to support anyone but myself, and sometimes I wasn't sure I could do that. It took me a long time to make Ambassadors a success; there were a lot of years when I didn't have one frill, much less a wagonload. And I never stopped being careful. You know that; I've told you about it. Are you accusing me of being extravagant or profligate, Garth? Do you think I've been throwing our money around?”

“No, but you don't know—”

“I know enough to run your house, and I have no intention of lying down and letting a bunch of hidebound professors tell me how to do it with their unwritten rules and regulations. I haven't—”

“ ‘No intention'? What does that mean? That you'll do what you want, come hell or high water? That you don't give a damn what's important to me?”

“You know how much I care what's important to you. I think I pay a lot of attention to that. I haven't failed, you know; I've done a pretty good job with your family.”

“It's your family, too.” He took a deep breath. “What the hell are we talking about?”

“The elegant, high-toned, exclusive Mrs. Thirkell.”

Their eyes met and they burst out laughing. “Well, she's more homey than high-toned,” Garth conceded. “Christ, I'm sorry, my love; I went overboard, didn't I?”

“I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten angry. I'm never angry at you; how did I do this?”

“Maybe you've got the tension you were looking for. I don't know what got into me, though.”

“I think you're under a lot of pressure about the institute and you worry too much about fitting into your community. But you're good enough to be whatever you want to be, Garth. Everyone likes you and admires you; why are you afraid to be different? What would happen if some people think that we're living too high for our station in life?”

“They could make life unpleasant. It's a very small community, you know, and we all need each other, for support, for getting funding, for bouncing ideas off each other, even for convincing the administration we need another secretary. It isn't as simple as it seems to outsiders.”

“Am I an outsider?”

“No, my God, no. Look, go ahead; bring her back from London if you want. It won't cause an earthquake, just a small shift in the earth's crust. Everyone will get used to it.”

“Fine.” They were silent. “Have we really been talking about Mrs. Thirkell?” she asked.

“Well, not entirely. I suppose I'm jealous of London. You tend to wrap a place around you, my love, and make it part of you, and it was your home for a long time. I think of you there with your friends, and nothing to remind you of us, and it's occurred to me—it occurs to me often—that they might seduce you into coming back.”

She put her hand along his face. “Not one chance in a million. The only seduction I'm interested in is my husband's. If we were home now, I could prove that with a few very interesting moves.”

He chuckled. “I'll hold you to that.” The music began again and they moved into each other's arms and onto the dance floor. “So, let the marvelous Mrs. Thirkell come to
Evanston; you're right, it would be wonderful for you, and I think the kids would love her.”

“I think so, too.”

“When do you want to go?”

“In a week or two. I may do some buying while I'm there, if Madeline agrees. I don't want her to think I'm taking over, but we have clients who are looking for particular pieces that I might be able to find.”

“Let her go next time.”

“She doesn't know Europe. I'll have to do it a few times a year. You really don't mind?”

“I'll miss you. But of course you should go.”

Her hand curved around the back of his neck. “Would there be a lot of hostility if I kissed you here? Would people say it wasn't appropriate for your station in life?”

“If they do, the hell with them.” They kissed lightly, smiling. “It is amazing and wonderful to me how much I love you,” Garth murmured, and then Claudia Beyer came up to them and Sabrina and Garth had no more time alone until almost midnight when, finally, everyone left, buttoning fur and heavy wool coats against the bitter end-of-February wind that whipped in off the lake and buffeted them as they walked down the broad steps to their waiting limousines.

“Nice of Claudia to do this,” Garth said as he and Sabrina saw the limousine waiting for them. “I like her style.”

“I like her,” Sabrina said. “We had a good talk at lunch last week. She's smart and she cares about people and she cares intensely about the university.”

The driver held the door and Garth slid into the back seat after Sabrina. “More than she cares about people?”

“You mean, would she sacrifice people for the good of the university? I don't know. I'm not sure she does. I hope she doesn't have to make the choice.”

“I hope not.” Garth put his arm around her and held her as the limo merged with the traffic on Lake Shore
Drive. “If you had married a rich man you could travel like this all the time.”

Sabrina did not say that she had married a rich man once, and it had not been enough. There was no reason to talk about Denton; he no longer had any part in her life, and she had had no reason to think of him for years. “I like the man I married,” she said, “with or without limousines. Do you think tonight was a success?”

“I know it was. They all loved you, you know; they think if you're connected with the institute it's well worth their hard-earned or hard-inherited money. But right now I want to stop thinking about money and just think about us.”

He pulled her closer and they kissed, a long kiss of familiarity and contentment, and of a love and passion that grew with each day they were together. Five months, almost six, Sabrina thought, settling back against Garth in the warmth of the car as snowflakes began to streak past the windows. Almost six months since I came here, deceiving everyone, and stayed and stayed and fell in love and then Stephanie . . .

Stephanie.

It was a low cry within her. Stephanie was gone, and it felt to Sabrina as if the place where she had been was a vast emptiness, a fog, a cloud, all of space, infinity. All that was left was a memory, a longing, a love.

But there were many other loves—Garth, the children, her work, a way of life. She felt she was living on two planes, pulled in two directions: My sister is dead, but for the first time I have more than I ever dreamed could be mine.

“Do you know,” Garth mused, his voice a soft murmur at her ear, “once in a very rare while there comes a time when our lives settle into perfect balance, when everything is in its perfect place. I never really believed that could happen. Now I know that it can. Because right now, my love, now is our perfect time.”

“Yes.” The word was a long breath, like a prayer of
thanksgiving. The flare-up with Garth, all the little flare-ups and tensions of learning to live together while pretending to the world that they had been married for twelve years, all faded away. They were not important. What was important was that even though she had lost the person closest to her in all the world, she had found Garth, and a family, and a love between a man and woman beyond imagining.
I don't know how that can be. Unless somehow I've become both of us in a way that's beyond logic. If that's true, then, look, Stephanie, we both have short hair now.