The question of how far we are prepared to go, how much of ourselves we are prepared to give, in order to make it real.”
He didn’t mention the word sex, but perhaps he didn’t need to. They both knew it was what he meant. She wondered if the prospect should shock her, and immediately discovered that it didn’t. Yes, she could—theoretically, abstractly, distantly—imagine sleeping with him. Despite the distance and the abstraction, it was unsettling. She didn’t often respond physically to a man within an hour of their first meeting.
“I really need to think about this,” she repeated.
“Do you think that I don’t?” he said. His smile was crooked, inviting hers in return. “Do you think that I’ve answered all these questions for myself? I haven’t! I’ll give you the phone number of my hotel. Call me whenever you want to. I’ll take your number, too. We might both have things to talk about.”
Suzanne nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”
She felt like adding, “I’m going to see Dr. Feldman, too. Check you out a little further.”
As long as she could manage to do that without giving away too much herself. She didn’t want Michael to guess that she was contemplating a strategic marriage to Jodie’s cousin. She’d prefer to present it to him as a done deal after the event, a practical yet optimistic arrangement that was already working well.
“Finish your burger,” Stephen said. “Will it help Alice if you get sick?”
“No, I guess it won’t,” she agreed, and picked up the half-cooled burger. Duty, not pleasure.
He watched, wearing a small, satisfied smile, and when she had finished eating, he flicked the little bootie back to her, across the table. “Don’t forget this,” he said.
“It fits your thumb better than it fits her foot, now,” she answered him. “She’s grown so much since she was born.”
“May I keep it, then?”
“For your thumb? Gloves would be a little more useful.”
He laughed. “No, not for my thumb. I’ll send it to my mother, at home, so she can see how frighteningly tiny Alice must have been when she was born. She will probably cry at the sight of it.” His face had fallen into serious lines once more. “She would have come here with me, to see the baby, only she’s been ill. She had some major surgery a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“The discovery of this baby has done wonders for her recovery. I know she’ll want all the news of Alice that I can give her.”
And that was the moment when I knew, Suzanne thought to herself several days later. When he said that, I knew that he really did care about Alice, and I knew, for better or for worse, no matter what we decided about sex and divorce, that I’d marry him….
Rose Norton Chaloner Brown Wigan had never stayed at a five-star New York hotel before, but she was trying very hard to act as if she stayed in such establishments all the time.
It was quite sweet, in a way. At the strangest times, Suzanne detected an odd form of innocence in her selfish, beautiful and eternally blond mother. Rose and Perry had arrived from Philadelphia two days ago, “Now that our commitments have allowed us to get back here again, for a longer stay, we’re itching to see that darling baby!”
Their commitments had allowed them to do this for about two hours yesterday morning, just before lunch at Tavern on the Green.
They planned to stay over the weekend, and Mom had begged Suzanne over the phone, with that same exultant innocence, “You must come and see our suite, honey! It’s spectacular!”
Dropping in to visit Rose, as promised, Suzanne was greeted with the eager offer of anything she liked from the minibar of the sixth floor park view room. Just absolutely anything at all. A cocktail? Champagne? Chocolates?
“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Tense, too. She had something to discuss, and knew that the mood would change, at that point, like fall weather coming down from Canada on the tail end of a steamy summer.
“Are you sure, darling?” Rose said. “If there’s something you want that isn’t here, I can order it in special.”
“I’m really not hungry or thirsty.” She added gently, “You know they charge a bundle for all these little drinks and candies, Mom.” She didn’t want her mother to get carried away. Maybe Mom thought that you got these things for free. She and Perry could end up with an appalling bar bill, on top of what had to be a mammoth tab for this suite.
But Rose didn’t seem to care. “We’re putting it all on credit cards,” she said. “It’s not a problem, Suzie, really it isn’t, because we’ll pay them off no trouble, as soon as all the legal stuff with Alice’s inheritance goes through.”
Rose couldn’t quite keep the glee out of her face, but tried a little harder when her sideways glance caught Suzanne’s frown.
“I mean, as Alice’s new parents,” she continued in an earnest tone, as if giving a public speech, “we can’t be expected to live like—like hillbillies, can we?”
“No, Mom. I can’t see you as a hillbilly, I admit.”
“She’s an heiress, and we need to start moving amongst the right people—society people, you know, people who stay in hotels like this all the time—so she can make the right contacts. Perry and I have talked about this very seriously, and we both agree it’s the right thing.”
“I’m glad you’ve got your priorities worked out, Mom,” Suzanne said. Only someone who knew her very well would have picked the subtle flavor of sarcasm in her mild tone. Rose wasn’t that someone.
“Well, yes,” she answered. “Perry and I both know how important it is.”
She glanced toward her husband, who was stretched out on the couch, sleeping the way an alligator sleeps in a nice, warm Florida swamp—deceptively.
Suzanne wished she could count on his nap being genuine. She had that weather-changing announcement for Mom, and wanted to be able to make it without his input.
She took a deep breath, instead, before she spoke. “I have some news, Mom, which I hope you’ll be pleased about.”
“News? What news?” Having picked up something significant in her daughter’s tone, Rose attempted to narrow her eyes.
This was difficult. The face-lift surgery she’d had several months ago had pulled her skin so tight she wore a perpetual look of attractive, wide-eyed surprise. But the intent to narrow them was definitely there, Suzanne decided.
She bit the bullet.
“I’m getting married on Friday, and I want both of you to come to the wedding.” As Rose had done a moment earlier, Suzanne glanced at Perry, but he hadn’t stirred.
“Getting married on—! But that’s the day after tomorrow!” Rose paced the room like a soap opera actress. Her mouth was set in a line of concentration, and she was obviously thinking hard. She spun around on the high navy heels that matched her imitation silk suit, and as Suzanne
