Possessions (60 page)

It shattered when they were in the channel that led to the Golden Gate Bridge. Leaving the emptiness of the ocean, they were suddenly surrounded by boats: dozens of white sails bobbing and circling about them. Taking the clearest path, Ross steered under the northern end of the bridge. Katherine idly watched them draw near a group of rocks thrusting like spires near a spit of land with a lighthouse, and a tiny beach beyond. Unaccountably, she began to feel anxious. A memory tugged; she turned questioningly to Ross and found him watching her. “Lime Point,” he said quietly.

The weekend was over; they were home.

*  *  *

Carrie found Melanie on the deck, her eyes protected from the sun by a mask. “Mommy,” she said.

“Yes, sweetie.”

“I need two more cards for the country club.”

Melanie raised the mask an inch and squinted at her daughter. “Have you and Jon lost yours?”

“No—”

“Well, then?”

“I need them for Jennifer and Todd.”

Melanie sat up and replaced the mask with dark sunglasses. “Who?”

“You know who I mean! Jennifer and Todd Fraser!”

“Why should you get cards for Jennifer and Todd Fraser?”

“Because they don't belong to a club and there's all of August before school starts and we want to be with them. We're friends.”

Melanie contemplated her daughter. “They're not our kind, Carrie. They'd be uncomfortable at the club.”

“Oh, Mother!”

“Don't ‘Oh, Mother' me. These things are complicated and children don't understand them. Someday you will.”

“I don't see why,” said Carrie.

“That's what I mean. You're not ready to understand.”

“So can I have two more cards?”

“Carrie, what did I just say?”

“I don't know, because I didn't understand it.”

“Oh, my God.” Melanie walked to a table where tall glasses and a pitcher stood on a tray.

“Can I have some, too?” Carrie asked.

“It's gin and tonic; you aren't ready for that, either. Carrie, the club doesn't like strangers coming in.”

“Lots of people bring friends from out of town.”

“Your friends aren't from out of town.”

“They live in San Francisco; the club is in Mill Valley.'

Melanie drained half a glass and refilled it. “Why are you asking me? Let your father get them in on his membership.”

“He resigned from the club when you made him resign from our house.”

“That's not funny,” Melanie snapped. “I suppose this was his idea, for you to bring those children.”

“It's my idea! Mine and Jon's! We can't help it if you don't like Katherine—”

“
Katherine?
”

Carrie stamped her foot. “She said to call her that. We're friends! And I don't see why you care if Daddy likes her, you like Guy, don't you? He's always in your bed so you must like him—”

“Carrie!”

“Well, isn't he? When your door is closed? But it's OK;
everybody's parents do it; we don't care except why get mad at us just because you're mad at Daddy or whoever? Can't you just leave us alone? You like us to leave you alone and we don't get in your way; I mean, we mostly do what you tell us and we don't bug you when you've got problems—all the kids have mixed-up parents—so you could let us do what we want with our friends—it doesn't have anything to do with you anyway—and
I want two more cards for the club!
”

Her drink halfway to her mouth, Melanie stared at her daughter. When did she get so fiery? she wondered. And how does she know so much? She used to be soft and cuddly, telling me I was her pretty mommy, with her little arms around my neck. What happened to her?

“
Well?
” Carrie demanded.

“Does their mother know how long a drive it is?”

“They don't have a car. The club has a van that picks people up at Union Square. You know that. Mother,
please.
”

“Well, that's the first time I've heard that word today.” Melanie shrugged. “I'll call the manager; I don't suppose they'll mind two more kids. Just make sure your friends behave themselves. They probably aren't used to private country clubs.”

Carrie bit back a reply. “Thank you,” she said. “It's very nice of you. I'll bring you the phone.”

“How come you aren't with your father this weekend?” Melanie asked when she returned.

“He went sailing with Katherine. We're going to his house next weekend. Here; do it now. I want to call Jennifer and tell her we can go swimming tomorrow.”

“All
right,
” Melanie said. But when she lay back on the chaise, she wondered, as she did so often these days, why everything seemed so difficult when she'd been sure that from now on she would live happily ever after.

*  *  *

The sketchbook was crammed with drawings from the Riviera; the portfolio contained a dozen designs ready to be worked in gold and silver; a felt-lined box held the twelve pieces of jewelry Mettler had returned. Beside them was a pad of paper with a list of jewelry-store owners.

Katherine had called two of them. Both said they had heard of her interesting work; both said they were not taking on any
new people just then. “The economy,” they said. “You understand how it is . . .”

Katherine understood. She sat on the stool at her worktable, chin in hand, absently rearranging the jewelry she had made for Mettler. It gleamed dully in the gray light filtering through morning fog: very expensive, highly original, vibrant in its perfect balance of shape, texture and color. But she couldn't sell it.

So, in spite of Victoria's declaration that only the top would do, she had to move down from the top, and go to smaller, less prestigious shops. But not with these pieces. She needed what Mettler would call nice, ordinary ones.

For two weeks she worked from breakfast to midnight. She saw Ross for a few late dinners, Tobias and Victoria only once. Leslie was out of town for the opening of a new branch of Heath's, and, miraculously, Jennifer and Todd were occupied. The friendship with Ross's children had endured past the trip to France and somehow Carrie and Jon had gotten country club privileges for them. Each morning at eight o'clock, a club van picked them up in Union Square; each afternoon it returned them there. They took a bus home, arriving happily worn out and bubbling with their adventures. That left Katherine free, and, using sketches from the Riviera, she spent two weeks in concentrated energy, making up another collection. At the end of that time she had ten pieces, ready to be sold.

Traveling from one of San Francisco's shops to another, her samples tucked in a slim shoulder bag, Katherine avoided the glittering displays at Mettler's and Laykin Et Cie, Saks Fifth Avenue and Xavier's, and the half-dozen other exclusive shops she had once dreamed of. She kept her eyes firmly on small stores that specialized in mass-produced jewelry but also offered their customers a small selection of original pieces. By the time another week was up, she had visited nine of them. Three had bought her pieces, and ordered more.

Not quite a triumph, she thought, getting off the bus at her corner at the end of the week. In a way, she'd gone backward: she was no farther than she'd been eight months earlier, when Mettler first bought from her. And this time she'd sold to stores less prestigious than his.

But a little over a year ago, in Vancouver, she had given
up. Katherine remembered the feeling of defeat that had swept over her when the last envelope came in the mail, containing her sketches and a letter of rejection. She'd been convinced she was no good; she'd had fun with a hobby but hadn't been a professional.

All that was behind her. Now she had a profession, and she'd begun to earn her living at it. Not at the top, but still—three good stores; three written contracts. She might not have escaped Craig, but she'd gone around him. I can make my way, she told herself, walking home with a light step. Three jewelers believe in me; and Ross, and Tobias, and Victoria. And so do I.

R
OSS
called while they were at breakfast. “Happy birthday,” he said. “I'm making sure we still have a dinner date for tonight.”

“Of course,” she said. “How could I forget?”

“I can't imagine, but the way you've been working I thought it possible. I planned, if this meets with your approval, to include Jennifer and Todd, so they can share their mother's birthday dinner. Then we'll drop them off at home and go to my house for dessert.”

“Dessert,” Katherine said and began to laugh.

“Often the best part of the meal, but it must be savored very slowly. You sound happy. Did you sell to another store yesterday? I'm sorry I didn't call; my meeting went on until all hours.”

“It was a good day. I'll tell you about it tonight.”

“Six thirty?”

“We'll be ready.”

“We?” said Jennifer, and Katherine told them about dinner.

“But what about today?” Todd asked. “Aren't just the three of us going to celebrate?”

“Of course we are,” Katherine said, dropping her plans to work. “What would you like to do?”

They spent the day riding rented bicycles through Golden Gate Park and picnicking on the island in Stow Lake. “It's nice when it's the three of us,” Jennifer said as they walked home. “Most of the time you're working or out with Ross, and we're with Carrie and Jon—it hasn't been just our family for a long time.”

Our family, Katherine thought. Just the three of us. How naturally Jennifer had said it. “You're right,” she replied quietly. “It's very nice; it's been a lovely birthday.”

Her thoughts were moving ahead to the rest of her birthday—dinner with Ross, an evening with Ross—as she unlocked the door. “What's that smell?” Jennifer asked, sniffing.

“Perfume?” Katherine guessed. “No, flowers.” The scent pervaded the apartment.

Annie opened the door across the hall. “They came while you were gone. I put them in the—”

“Hey!” Todd shouted and staggered in from the kitchen, almost hidden behind a vase of white roses. A small envelope stuck out from between his fingers.

“Golly,” Jennifer breathed. She began counting. “Thirty-six. That's how old you are. Are they from Ross? Or . . .” She saw Katherine's face.
“Oh.”

Katherine was reading the familiar handwriting. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. With love.” And he had signed it as he always did, with his initial.

“It's Daddy, isn't it?” Jennifer asked in a small voice.

Katherine nodded.

“What does he say?” Todd asked. “Like—to us?”

“Nothing, silly,” Jennifer said when Katherine was silent. “It's not our birthday, after all.”

“Well, but still—”

The doorbell rang and Todd ran to peer through the window. “It's Ross,” he said, and opened the door.

Ross looked from Katherine's stunned face to the mass of white roses and the card in her hand. Anger welled up in him as he understood what had happened, but he kept his voice calm as he said to Jennifer and Todd, “There's a surprise for you in my car. Do you want to get it now?”

“Sure,” Jennifer said. “And you want us to stay there.”

“I'd appreciate it. While your mother and I talk. Then we'll go to dinner. Is that all right?”

“Sure,” Jennifer said again. “I just wish I understood all this.”

“So do I,” said Ross. “Off you go now.”

Todd, strangely quiet, followed Jennifer. Ross took the roses into the kitchen, out of sight; then he came back and sat beside Katherine and took her in his arms. She buried her face against his shoulder and burst into tears. “Damn him,” she sobbed, her voice muffled. “Damn him for his hide-and-seek games and . . .
hanging on.
Damn him for not being honest with me. Damn him for
being.”

Ross held her until her sobs quieted. At least she's angry, he thought. It's about time. He considered telling her about Elissa, as he did every time they were together. But again it seemed the wrong time to force her to face another shock about her husband.

“Katherine,” he said firmly. “I have brought you a birthday present; I made arrangements for dinner. If you're too distracted, we can skip dessert at my house, but you should be able to handle the rest of the evening. And I want to hear about your triumphs with jewelers this week.”

Katherine raised her face to his. “How did you know I had triumphs?”

“Because you deserve them. Are you going to change for dinner? I'd like to be festive.”

“Yes . . . I'm sorry; we just got home before you—”

“I was early. Go ahead and change; I'll wait.” He picked up a book. “Are you reading this? I've been meaning to buy it. I'll read; you take your time. We have a seven thirty reservation at Fisherman's Wharf.”

“Oh, Jennifer and Todd will be thrilled.” At the door to the bathroom, she turned back. “What did you get me for my birthday?”

He laughed. Recovering fast, he thought. “Do you want it now or later?”

“Now, please.”

He handed her a paper bag he had left inside the front door. Katherine pulled out a silver-wrapped box: a shoebox, she saw, when the elegant paper was removed. Giving him a puzzled glance, she lifted the lid and took out one shoe, then its mate:
handsewn leather with white rubber soles, and leather thongs laced through brass eyelets all around and tied in a bow at the instep. A card was propped in one of them: “Steady feet and a steadfast heart—I love you.” “Deck shoes!” Katherine cried, and burst into delighted laughter. “For the boat!”

“Safer than those tennis shoes you wore,” he said. “You aren't disappointed? I thought of perfume and silk and other luxuries, but you'll be spending so much time with me on the boat and if you want to move around without worrying about slipping—”