Chapter Five
Caroline couldn’t fall asleep. When she finally drifted off, she was awoken by the hiss of the heater. She propped herself against the headboard and pulled out her iPad. One romance kept her interested until the last chapter, but then the love interest was killed off. Caroline had to discard it. Romance novels required a happily-ever-after ending, it was one of the rules of publishing.
When the morning sun filtered through the window, she debated texting Daphne and asking if she wanted to go for a walk. But Daphne had always been a late riser. As a teenager Caroline had envied Daphne’s ability to sleep in. On Sundays, Daphne never appeared until noon. She’d enter in the kitchen while Anne was making lunch and wolf down a sandwich and a glass of orange juice. Her skin would be smooth and she’d be smiling. No matter how late Caroline stayed up the night before, she was awake by 9:00 a.m. She could never stomach more than a piece of toast, and she was often grumpy.
Anne used to laugh and say wait until they were adults. There was nothing wrong with getting up early, and a strong cup of coffee cured anything.
Caroline reached for the next letter from Nina.
Dear Anne,
I hope you and your family had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade for the first time in forty years. Afterward, I walked through the Central Park Zoo. I thought about your darling girls. That’s one of the things I miss about never having children of my own. The joy on a child’s face when he sees an elephant pick up a peanut with his trunk is as good as reading my first review in The New York Times.
My apologies, I sound like a lonely, bitter writer again, and that isn’t my intention. But it’s good to be back in New York. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I treated myself to Thanksgiving dinner at Porter House Bar and Grill. It blew my monthly budget, but a juicy steak at my age is as impossible to resist as sex when I was young.
I didn’t start this letter to talk about my life now in New York. I’m trying to explain why you should represent me and what you should say to editors. Authors don’t give up writing for forty years without a reason. It’s as necessary to our well-being as breathing. But when you’re young, you make all sorts of mistakes. Especially when it comes to love. Even in the 1970s, when we women were so focused on our careers, love could find a way to derail us. That’s the human condition. If love didn’t exist, we wouldn’t have literature.
Which leads me back to my story. I wasn’t thinking about love or my career after I had accepted Margaret’s request to be Laura Carter. I was too worried about how to tell Teddy that he was going to spend Christmas week with me in Vermont, after I had demanded he get his things out of my apartment and told him I never wanted to see him again.
Teddy and I had met almost two years earlier at the office. Teddy Chandler III looked exactly like his name sounded. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could light up a skyscraper during a blackout.
Every woman at Women’s World Monthly fell in love with him. I was determined to be the exception. Even before I published my first novel, I was consumed by the feminist movement. I wasn’t going to let a man, especially not a man who knew his own sex appeal, get in the way of my career.
Teddy was an account executive for Palmolive soap. It didn’t sound like a glamorous job, but Teddy made it one. His days were spent being taken to lunch by magazine editors and television producers who wanted Palmolive’s advertising dollars. In the evenings he frequented fashionable clubs and restaurants like the Copacabana and the Oak Room, usually with a secretary or an account assistant on his arm. Once, a rumor went around that he was seeing Glenda, the married head of human resources. It wasn’t true. Teddy was too clever to get involved with a married woman.
The first year after college, I worked for a wonderful female boss, but she was promoted and I had a new boss. He worked under Margaret as well and I was his direct secretary. He was about forty and his name was Gus Drummond. One evening, as I was about to leave, Gus called the office. It was the start of the Labor Day weekend and he had forgotten the short stories on his desk.
Teddy walked out of the elevator. He was carrying a bouquet of roses.
“Everyone’s gone home. Whoever those are for, they’re going to wilt,” I said to Teddy.
“The roses won’t look worse than I feel.” He wiped his brow. “New York in August is unbearable. Everyone I know is headed to Long Island but that’s not much better. It’s like taking a crowded party and moving it to a new location. If I could be anywhere in the world, it would be on top of a mountain.”
Even with sweat on his forehead, Teddy was the most handsome man I ever met. He wore a white V-neck vest and pleated trousers. The only thing he was wearing that wasn’t white was his shoes. Scuffed brown loafers, no socks.
“You won’t find any women on top of a mountain.” I pointed to the roses.
His smile grew even wider. “You’re right. That’s the problem with love, it beats common sense every time.”
“Are you in love?” I inquired.
I wondered which of the women on that floor was the object of his feelings.
“I’m always in love but it never lasts.” He shrugged.
“That sounds like a terrible waste of time.”
“On the contrary, life would be dull without it.” He walked to where I was standing. “Love is like the Picasso exhibit at the Guggenheim. I don’t understand his paintings but they’re amusing to look at. They have all that color and energy.”
I was quite certain that the woman receiving the flowers felt differently. Many women in their twenties then still dreamed of diamond rings and long, white dresses. If they didn’t crave a house in the suburbs, they at least wanted to share a New York co-op with a handsome man.
“Well, everyone but me has left for the long weekend. So, you’ll have to keep the flowers until Tuesday.”
“Why are you still here?” he wondered.
I explained that my boss asked me to bring the short stories to him on my way home.
“You’re meeting him at the White Horse Tavern?” Teddy asked.
The White Horse Tavern was a popular bar in the West Village. I lived close by. The neighborhood was too bohemian for my tastes—I wasn’t interested in tie-dyed shirts, or men with long, flowing hair—but the rent was cheap and my bedroom had a window.
“I’m not having a drink with him, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I gathered my purse. “He needs them tonight. He’s driving out tomorrow morning to join his family in the Hamptons.”
When I arrived at the bar, Gus was sitting in a table in the back. He was a tall man with dark hair and brown eyes behind glasses. He had taken off his suit jacket, and he was wearing a white shirt and red tie.
“Sit down and have something cool to drink,” he suggested. “It’s too hot to be outside.”
I wondered if men talked with women about anything except the weather.
“No, thank you. I’m only a few blocks from here.”
“Then at least let me give you subway fare and a little extra.” He reached into his pocket. “I would have had to pay a courier to pick these up.”
Gus only had a twenty-dollar bill. He gave it to the waiter; I had no choice but to wait for the change.
Suddenly Teddy appeared. He walked right up to me and kissed me on the cheek.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, holiday traffic is murder.” He placed his arm around me.
I was so shocked, my mouth dropped open.
Teddy pretended not to notice my surprise. He turned to Gus and held out his hand.
“Teddy Chandler the Third. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Gus Drummond.” Gus shook his hand. His face had a peculiar expression, but I wasn’t experienced enough with men to know what it meant.
“I was talking about you the other day with Edgar, the head of your department,” Teddy said to Gus. “You’re new at the company, but Edgar has big things in store for you.”
“You were talking to Edgar?” Gus repeated.
“Edgar loves to take me to lunch at the Carlyle. He thinks a plate of oysters and a few cocktails will win him Palmolive’s advertising dollars.”
“Teddy is the account executive for Palmolive soap,” I volunteered.
Gus’s cheeks turned red. He pulled at his shirt collar.
“At the moment I’m the very late boyfriend of this beautiful young lady.” Teddy drew me closer. “It was nice to meet you, Gus. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”
“What was that about?” I demanded when we were outside.
“I thought I’d at least get a thank-you,” Teddy said.
I replied that I had no idea what I was thanking him for.
“I’ll explain over a couple of martinis.” He still held my arm. He was guiding me into a restaurant.
I stopped on the sidewalk. “What makes you think I’ll have a drink with you?”
“Because you’re not going home until Gus walks out of the tavern and gets into a taxi,” Teddy said.
I was too flustered to argue. We sat in a booth and Teddy ordered two vodka martinis and a club sandwich.
“Hot weather makes me hungry.” He offered me half the club sandwich.
By then, I was fuming. I should have been home, working on my novel. Instead, I was sitting with a man I barely knew, watching him eat turkey and mayonnaise.
“Gus forgot those short stories on purpose. It was a ploy to get you to have a drink with him.” He wiped mayonnaise from his mouth. “Afterward, he’d offer to walk you home. He’d say he needed to call his wife and ask if he could come up and use your phone. The next thing you’d know, his tongue would be in your mouth and his hands would be on your dress.”
I shifted uncomfortably at the image of Gus putting his hands on me.
“How do you know?” I demanded.
“He’s done it before. The last time was uptown because the girl lived on the Upper West Side. Gus happened to be at a bar near her apartment.”
I didn’t believe him. All sorts of rumors circulated around Women’s World Monthly.
“It isn’t a rumor, I heard it from the woman herself,” he insisted.
Suddenly it dawned on me.
“Is she the same woman who was supposed to receive your bouquet of roses?” I asked.
Teddy nodded. “I can’t tell you her name, it wouldn’t be the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“Why didn’t you warn me before I left the office?” I asked, puzzled.
“You might not have believed me. Gus is your boss and we just met.” He shrugged. “Gus didn’t need change from the waiter. It was an excuse to keep you there.”
I had thought it odd that the waiter took so long to return with the change. Suddenly I needed the martini very badly.
“I hope your friend didn’t get into trouble,” I sighed.
“Don’t worry about her,” he said. “You can thank me by going out to dinner with me tomorrow.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What will the recipient of the roses say?”
“There was a note on her desk saying she went to the Hamptons. She’s decided she wants to see other men.”
I didn’t ask why; it was none of my business. Secretly I was pleased. Teddy was worldly and charming. I wanted to see him again.
I started this letter to explain how I broke the news to Teddy about Vermont, and I’ve written six pages on how we met! I can see you with a red pen, slashing through sentences and demanding that I come to the point.
I’m afraid it’s going to have to wait until the next letter. I have a ticket to a Broadway play and I can’t be late. Theater is another thing I missed so much about New York.
Regards,
Nina
Caroline set the letter aside. She wondered whether Nina ever finished a new book. Surely the manuscript would have been somewhere in her mother’s boxes. Why had Anne kept the letters? And why had she never mentioned them?
She was about to reach for the next letter when her phone pinged. It was a text from Daphne accompanied by a smile emoji.
“Eating breakfast at the hotel restaurant. I can’t believe we’re in Aspen! Come join us, they make the best Western-style omelet.”
Caroline got dressed, hoping she’d feel half as chirpy as Daphne’s text after a cup of coffee.
When she entered the restaurant, Daphne and Luke were seated at a table near the fireplace. Their heads were bowed together and there was that look about them, as if they were the only two people in the world.
Daphne glanced up and waved. She wore a white turtleneck that accentuated her blond hair, and blue jeans.
“You have to try the hotel breakfast.” Daphne waved at her plate. “Omelets and bacon, and homemade muffins with strawberry jam.”
“I’m not hungry, I’ll stick with coffee,” Caroline said.
She didn’t want to tell Daphne about Max’s open house. Daphne would ask too many questions.
“The wedding is so soon and there’s so much to do!” Daphne squeezed Luke’s hand. “Luke is going to pick out the rings.”
“Daphne wants the rings to be a surprise,” Luke offered.
“Most couples choose their wedding bands together, but this will make it more special,” Daphne gushed to Caroline. “I want to show you the church. I saw pictures online, it’s like something in a fairy tale.”
“Aren’t your parents disappointed that they’re going to miss the wedding?” Caroline asked Luke.
If Daphne wouldn’t listen to her, maybe she could persuade Luke to postpone the wedding.
Luke sprinkled salt on his omelet. “I offered to pay for their plane tickets, but my father is about to have back surgery. We’re going to FaceTime them during the ceremony.” He glanced at Daphne. “It’s better this way. Since Daphne doesn’t have anyone to walk her down the aisle.”
After Walter died, Anne often said the happiest days of her life would be when she walked her daughters down the aisle. Luke had a point. How would Daphne feel if Luke’s parents were at the wedding and all Daphne had was Caroline?
“Luke’s best friend is going to be the best man. He’s flying in on New Year’s Eve,” Daphne piped up.
“Eric works in finance, he just moved to New York,” Luke said.
Daphne ate a bite of her muffin. She smiled at Caroline. “Who knows, maybe you and Eric will fall in love and we’ll have a double reception next summer.”
From the outside, the church reminded Caroline of a Christmas postcard taken in Switzerland or Germany. It was a few blocks from Main Street, nestled between tall aspen trees. The walls were thick timber, and it had a sloped roof and a small steeple. Inside, several rows of pews faced a wooden altar. There was an organ, and there were stained-glass windows.
“I googled the oldest churches in Aspen, and this was on the list,” Daphne said. “There was only one church in Aspen when it was first settled, and the miners and their wives got married here in this church. We’re carrying on a tradition that’s been going on for a hundred and fifty years.”
“How did you manage to get it on such short notice?” Caroline asked.
Daphne had told the woman on the phone about the man waiting in front of Santa’s Little Red Mailbox. And that she and her fiancé wanted to get married at the same time.
“She thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard,” Daphne finished.
“The wedding still seems so rushed,” Caroline said. “You always dreamed of wearing a beautiful wedding dress.”
Whenever they passed a bridal boutique in New York, Daphne made them go inside to see the new styles.
“Maybe I’ve grown up,” Daphne replied, sticking out her chin. “The dress isn’t the most important thing.”
“You don’t want to start your new life by giving up the things you love,” Caroline said carefully. “You might grow to resent Luke.”
“It was my idea to elope,” Daphne reminded her. “And you’re wrong. Love and marriage are about compromise.”
“As long as you agree on the important things.” Caroline had to make Daphne see how complicated marriage could be. “For instance, how many children does Luke want?”
Daphne avoided Caroline’s eyes. “I don’t know, we haven’t talked about children.”
“That should have been your first conversation!”
“It’s not the thing you discuss on a first date. Somehow after that, it never came up.” Daphne twisted her diamond ring. “Luke is great with kids, he’ll be a wonderful father.”
“If he wants children,” Caroline persisted. “Restaurant owners keep terrible hours, and a commuter marriage is even worse. You’ll have to get help, or quit your job.”
Daphne sat down in a pew. When she looked up, her eyes were rimmed with tears.
“I don’t know why you keep doing this. Don’t you want me to be happy?”
Caroline slid in beside her. “Of course I do. But with Mom gone, it’s my job to look out for you.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions.”
Caroline ran her hand over the front of the pew.
“Mom would say the same thing. Marriage is a huge step. It’s hard to know if you’ve made the right decision,” she ventured.
“My feelings for Luke keep growing stronger. He’s so supportive, he’s doing everything I suggest.” Daphne wiped her eyes. “He even agreed to wear a bow tie, and he hates ties. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t have a corporate job.”
Nothing would change Daphne’s mind. If Caroline kept pushing, Daphne would object even more.
“All right,” Caroline agreed. “But do you promise you’ll talk to Luke about children?”
The smile came back to Daphne’s expression. Caroline was reminded of the fights they had when they were children. Daphne would always stop being angry first. Her pout would dissolve, and her smile would be as bright as the sun.
“I promise, and we’ll talk about pets too,” Daphne said with a laugh. “During college, Luke had a pet lizard. I could never live with a reptile.”
After they left church, they strolled along Main Street. It was almost noon when they reached the inn. The concierge approached them. He held a bouquet of roses.
“Miss Holt, these came for you, here’s the card.” He set the bouquet down and handed her an envelope.
The card was from Max.
Caroline. It seems a shame to waste such a promising beginning. I’m happy to play by your rules. Are you free this afternoon? Regards, Max
“Who in Aspen would send you flowers?” Daphne asked.
“Just a guy I met, it’s not important.”
The card fell on the floor. Daphne picked it up. She read it and handed it to Caroline.
Daphne’s eyes flickered. “You didn’t say you met a man. You’re never going to change.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Caroline glanced around the lobby to see if anyone was listening. The concierge had returned to his desk, the space was almost empty.
“When you drove up to the cabin instead of going to London to see Brad, I thought maybe you were done with your flings. I even hoped that Luke and I might inspire you to find the right guy and settle down.” She waved at the card. “You’ve been in Aspen for two days and you’re already getting involved. I bet he’s like the others. Sexy and charming, and someone you couldn’t have a future with because he lives far away,” she raged. “Well, you can stop looking out for me. I’m never going to take your advice. I couldn’t be like you, and I wouldn’t want to try.”
Daphne stormed onto the street. Caroline was left in the lobby with the bouquet of roses, and feeling completely alone.