Laurie Horowitz - The Family Fortune

“I’ll take you up.”

“I can manage on my own.”

“But the thing is,” I said, “you don’t have to.”

Midmorning the next day, I picked up Priscilla at the ferry. Though Priscilla didn’t have a summer house of her own, she made liberal use of those of her friends. She was coming to stay for a few days and I was giving her my room and taking the small one under the eaves. Priscilla brought three suitcases and a carpetbag for her knitting. It was a lot of luggage for a short visit.

Priscilla and I came up the front walk lugging her well-worn but elegant suitcases. The rest of the family must have been able to see us from the sunroom, but only Teddy got up to greet Pris and help us.

“Welcome,” he said. “You’ve come just in time. Miranda’s having a party.”

“Lovely,” Priscilla said. She dropped her bags on the front walk and started toward the house.

“On Saturday,” I said. I picked up two of her suitcases and followed her in. Teddy took the other one.

“How long does the woman think she’s staying?” Teddy said to me in a low voice. “She’s got enough luggage for weeks.”

We followed Priscilla toward the house. She walked into the sunroom and looked around.

“I hear you’re having a party, dear,” Priscilla said to Miranda.

“Just a small party,” Miranda said in her nasal mock-English accent.

“Hello, Priscilla,” Dolores said from her chair in the corner. Priscilla wouldn’t expect Dolores to call her by her first name unless she had specifically given her permission to do so, which I’m sure she never did.

“Hello, Dolores. You’re still here, I see,” Priscilla said.

“The Fortunes have been so wonderful to me. We’ve become just like family.” Dolores reached over and poured a cup of coffee for Priscilla from a tray that was perched on an ottoman.

Miranda eyed Dolores. Miranda would think it presumptuous for Dolores to proclaim herself one of the family.

“You must want coffee, Priscilla,” Dolores said.

“Thank you, dear.” A simple “Thank you, dear” from Priscilla could hold a wealth of kindness or be the coldest, most patronizing words ever heard. This particular “Thank you, dear” could have frozen lava.

Guy came over with a bunch of daisies for Priscilla. He didn’t knock. He was becoming too familiar for that. He opened the screen door and called into the house to warn us he was there.

“I heard you were coming,” he said, handing the flowers to Priscilla. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Guy Callow.”

“I remember you,” Pris said in an unpleasant tone.

Guy sat with us for over an hour, which was not at all unusual. What was strange was how easily he was able to charm Priscilla in that time.

After he left, Miranda said, “He comes around so often. As far as I’m concerned, it’s over. I don’t mind him coming around, but he should know he has no chance with me.”

Priscilla looked at Miranda, then back at me. I shrugged.

“Well, Miranda, would you like me to tell him how you feel?” Pris asked. “So he’ll know. You wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“His feelings?” Miranda laughed. “That man doesn’t have feelings to hurt. Never did.”

Dolores looked up.

“I don’t think you’re being fair to him,” Dolores said.

“Dolores always sees the best in people,” Teddy said.

“Oh, please. I’ve had enough of this Saint Dolores business, Daddy,” Miranda said.

Dolores looked down, hunched her shoulders, and for a minute I thought she might cry. Teddy walked over to her and took her hand.

“Come on, Dolores. Why don’t you and I go for our walk.”

She smiled and followed him out of the house.

“Well, that worked beautifully, Miranda,” Priscilla said. “Why not just ask her to leave if that’s what you want?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Priscilla pulled out her knitting. She was working with ribbon and mohair and her fingers moved with great agility as she twisted and turned her needles.

“Emma and I are making this same scarf, only in different colors,” she said to me.

“Who’s Emma?” Miranda asked.

The next morning I got up early and sneaked out of the house before anyone else was up. Guy had taken to coming earlier and earlier, and if I wanted to avoid him, I had to be out with the sun. I put together my bag with my hat, sunscreen, book, journal, and towel. The morning was cool and dewy, but it would warm up. I walked to my secret and favorite spot near the ocean, a small gathering of rocks that served as both backrest and windscreen.

I knew I shouldn’t have left Priscilla alone on her first day on the island, but she was the whole family’s friend, not just mine, and they could entertain her for one day. I left a short note saying that I’d gone to the beach and would be back in the afternoon.

The beach was deserted that early in the morning. I settled into my little cove and looked out at the ocean. I took out some pages Jack Reilly had sent me. The work he was producing was good and he liked to get my editorial input even if he rarely took my advice. It wasn’t the same relationship I’d had with Max, of course, but it was a good working relationship and I was satisfied with that. Allowing Jack to move into the cottage in Hull had been the right decision.

When I finished the pages, I took out Max’s book and began to read. Though it was not my favorite of Max’s books, it was still engaging. I read until the sun moved higher into the sky and the heat of the morning made me drowsy. Eventually I nodded off and the book must have fallen from my hands.

I felt a shadow fall across me. I was afraid it was Guy, so I didn’t open my eyes. It would be just like him to track me down when I wanted privacy.

“Jane?”

It was Max’s voice. I blinked my eyes open. Max picked up his book from where it lay in the sand and brushed it off. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to leave books lying around in the sun?” He smiled and sat down beside me.

“How’d you find me?” I asked.

“I went to your house and they said you were at the beach. I’ve been looking for you for the better part of an hour. Miranda gave me an invitation to your party tomorrow night.”

“It’s her party,” I said, “not mine. I think my sister has a crush on you.”

He smiled. “She’s out of luck,” he said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

He looked out toward the horizon.

“I have to ask you a question.” He dug his hand in the sand.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you in love with Guy Callow?”

I turned toward him.

“Is that what you think?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think it could be true.” He was very serious. He twisted his fingers in the sand.

“No. I am not in love, nor have I ever been in love, with Guy Callow,” I said. “I don’t even like him.”

Max stopped twisting his fingers. He looked at me.

“I have some things to explain,” he said. I waited. I realized I was wearing a two-piece bathing suit and moved to cover myself with a towel. “You don’t have to do that.”

I crossed my arms over my stomach. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I want to ask you another question,” Max said.

“Go right ahead.”

“Before, when we were together, if I hadn’t run off after I got your note, if I had tried to change your mind, do you think you would have come with me to California?”

“That’s an easy one,” I said. “I knew I had made a mistake almost before I made it, if that’s possible. I was afraid. I was stupid. When I look at Nora, how she believed in Duke, how she stood by him all those years, when I compare myself with her, it makes me sick.”

He took my hand, which required that I uncross my arms. I felt exposed. A shiver slid along my legs and up my thighs. It was nothing like the housefly buzz of titillation given off by Guy Callow. This was a different feeling entirely.

“I should have come back for you,” Max said.

“I could have come after you,” I said.

“When I first saw you after all those years, I was still angry. I hardly knew it, but it was like a stone in my stomach. I was willing to do almost anything to get away from the feelings I had about you.”

“Lindsay?”

“I don’t even know what I was thinking. By the time we were in Vermont, I had decided I didn’t even really like her, let alone love her, but I had led her on and the Maples are such good people. I don’t know why I told you I was thinking of marrying her. I guess I wanted to hurt you. Then there was the accident. If Basil hadn’t come into the picture and Lindsay had wanted to marry me, I probably would have married her for a whole lot of reasons, none of them having anything to do with love.”

“You would have been very unhappy.”

“I know.”

“Tell me about the girl on the phone that night,” I said.

“I dated her twice. I met her at a signing and she turned into an obsessed fan. I know. Sounds silly. An obsessed fan.”

“Did you sleep with her?” He blushed and looked into the sand. I nodded. “You slept with everyone,” I said. He bit his lip.

“I wasn’t as bad as my press, but I was pretty bad.”

“I always felt a little sorry for Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction,” I said. Max laughed and kissed me on the lips. His mouth tasted of Listerine and apples. I pulled away. “I was afraid you had become the type of man I wouldn’t like.”

“Have I?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Some feelings are so tied up in who you are, you can’t get rid of them, even when you know you should.”