Chapter Twenty-two
It was almost midnight and Caroline couldn’t sleep.
She had had a wonderful night. She wore one of her favorite dresses, a red cashmere wrap dress she bought at a sample sale in New York, and paired it with ankle-high boots and a silver bangle. It was the same outfit she wore when she met Brad at the London Book Fair. This time she wasn’t wearing it to pick up men, she wanted to feel attractive and confident for herself.
The hors d’oeuvres at the art museum had been delicious, and the artists were excited to talk about their work. She skipped the concert because the people waiting in line were in their early twenties and she refused to feel old. She sat in on the storytelling at Wheeler Opera House, and afterward had dinner at Ajax Tavern. The pasta Bolognese was perfectly cooked, and she ended up talking to a young Australian woman who encouraged her to attend the Sydney Writers’ Festival.
This time when she returned to the Aspen Inn, she didn’t ask the concierge if there were any messages. And she forced herself not to check her phone. Lily said there was nothing she could do about a code three. Max had to work out his feelings for himself.
Now she sat in her room and sipped a cup of warm milk and honey. Warm milk usually put her to sleep, but it wasn’t working.
Nina’s letters sat on the bedside table. She picked up the next letter and began to read.
Dear Anne,
I received thank-you notes from Caroline and Daphne for my Christmas presents. You brought them up so well. It’s only a few days after Christmas, they must have mailed the letters the next day!
You’re so lucky to have your family. People think writers are introverted and that’s often true. But we all need to feel loved and part of something.
I regret not having children. The worst part of growing old is being alone. I could get a little dog like so many New Yorkers, but my place is tiny. Thank God, I have my writing. Sitting down at the laptop is like revisiting an old friend.
I wish I could blame Teddy for where I am now. But long ago I learned that we are all responsible for our own happiness.
When I think back to the week in Vermont, neither of us behaved very well. Teddy started it by asking the minister to marry us and then throwing me and James together to buy the wedding dress. But I was guilty for what happened afterward.
I had to enlist James’s help to put my plan into action. I worried about what he’d think. We’d only known each other for a few days. And I was supposed to be Laura Carter, a model of moral fortitude. I broached the subject after our trip to Stowe to buy the wedding dress.
James pulled into the driveway of the farm. Teddy wasn’t back yet from running errands.
“It’s a marvelous idea,” James said when I explained my plan. “Do you think Teddy will fall for it?”
“I’m quite a good actress. I was the star of my high school play,” I said modestly. “You must think I’m terribly underhanded. What would your grandmother say if she knew what Laura Carter was planning?”
“On the contrary, I’m impressed,” James answered. “I told you I don’t think Teddy treats you properly. And my grandmother would approve. She couldn’t have built Barbara’s Pies into its huge success without behaving a little badly at times, especially when it came to men.”
“Then you approve?” I breathed a sigh of relief.
For a moment I wondered what Margaret, my editor, would say if she found out. But she was the one who built the fabric of lies. What was one more?
“It’s perfect except for one thing.” James stepped out of the car and ran around to open my door. He gave a small smile. “I only wish it was the real thing.”
I ran to my bedroom to change clothes before Teddy arrived. I put on the outfit he had given me for my birthday—a turquoise miniskirt with a matching blouse and tall boots. Then I sprayed on his favorite perfume and waited in the living room.
When Teddy arrived, his arms were laden with packages.
“Let me take those from you.” I placed them on the sideboard and handed him a cocktail. “I made you a whiskey sour. James and I picked up a bottle of malt whiskey in Smugglers’ Notch.”
“You stopped at Smugglers’ Notch?” Teddy asked. He sniffed the glass suspiciously.
“Buying the wedding dress went faster than I thought. Afterward we had lunch in Stowe and then I asked James to stop at Smugglers’ Notch. It’s quite famous in Vermont, during prohibition the smugglers hid their whiskey there.”
“It sounds like you had a good time,” Teddy said stiffly. I smiled to myself. Teddy was already jealous.
“It was wonderful. James knows all the local history,” I gushed. “And we get along so well. In fact, that’s what I want to talk about.”
“If you’re about to tell me that James has a crush on you, I already knew that. But remember, he has a girlfriend. Whatever he says might be flattering, but it will pass.”
“He and Rhonda broke up.” I paused. I wanted my next words to have their full effect. “James told me that he’s fallen in love with me. He asked me to marry him.”
Teddy’s glass fell on the rug. I bent down to mop it up.
“He did what?” Teddy exclaimed.
“When we were at the history museum in Smugglers’ Notch. There was an old photo of a smuggler who proposed to his wife after knowing her for three days. The whole town thought it was only so she would hide him from the border Mounties, but they were in love. The marriage lasted forty years. And James believes in love at first sight.”
“You can’t be serious!” Teddy exclaimed. “Don’t you see? He’s only trying to sleep with you!”
“It’s the 1970s, not the 1950s, women don’t need a ring on their finger to have sex,” I shot back. “Though he did kiss me. It was a short kiss but I liked it very much. In fact, I intend to make a habit of it. We’re getting married on New Year’s Eve.”
This time Teddy’s face turned pale. I had to avert my eyes so I didn’t burst out laughing.
“You and I are getting married on New Year’s Eve,” he reminded me.
“That’s what makes it so easy,” I continued gaily. “Father Joseph won’t mind if I change grooms.”
Teddy’s face became even paler. He sank onto the sofa.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything. James is honest and charming and we have so much in common,” I answered. “What do you care? We were going to get our marriage annulled anyway, it saves us a step. This time next week you’ll be in Saint Kitts, sipping mai tais with your mother and Gwendolyn.”
Teddy gulped his whiskey sour.
“You’re the one who broke off the engagement.” His voice was low.
“That’s what happens when your fiancé’s photo is splashed all over the New York Times society pages beside another woman, along with the caption that she’s the reason you’re not married yet.”
“I told you that the photographer took pictures of everyone.” Teddy sighed as if he were talking to a child. “And the only reason you and I weren’t married is because we hadn’t figured out the wedding details.”
“You mean I wouldn’t give in to your mother’s demands for a large society wedding.”
Teddy walked over to the sideboard. He fixed himself another whiskey sour. Then he sat next to me on the sofa and took my hand.
“If you stop this nonsense with James and marry me for keeps, we’ll get married any way you like. And I’ll tell my mother to behave herself or she’ll never be invited to our house during the holidays. You’re headstrong and stubborn, but I love you, Nina. There’s never been anyone else and there never will be.”
I was overcome with emotion. Teddy had never talked to me like that before. But what if he wasn’t telling the truth? He would get what he wanted, and then the tug-of-war between me and his mother would begin all over again. The thing is, I did love him. And love can be blind and hopeful.
I was about to answer when the doorbell rang. I wondered whether it was a neighbor or even Father Joseph.
Instead, when I opened the door, my editor, Margaret, stood outside. She wore a fur coat with a matching muff and hat.
“Margaret!” My jaw dropped. “What are you doing here?”
“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?” she demanded. “I’m a New Yorker and I don’t care if I’m wearing an entire fox, I’ve never been so cold in my life.”
I’ll stop there, Anne. To be honest, writing this part of the story is exhausting. That’s why love is for young people. If it’s this tiring to write about it at my age, I can’t imagine what it would be like to actually fall in love.
You’re so lucky to have your youth and your family, Anne. Cherish all of it. It’s the best time in life.
Regards,
Nina
Caroline set the letter on the stack. Then she turned off the light, and closed her eyes. Somehow, she had to tell Max how she felt about him. She was leaving in a few short days. What if she didn’t get the chance?