feelings about Bebe. But, above all, it was Bebe’s determination to have Reuben at all costs that shadowed the end of their days with Mickey.
Daniel strained his memory to figure out what had actually happened. Before Bebe had arrived, the relationship between Reuben and Mickey had seemed to nourish them heart and soul. Daniel was sure Reuben had asked her not once but several times to marry him, but Mickey had refused. In the hope of changing her mind, Reuben had begun to learn the wine business while he, Daniel, studied at the Sorbonne. According to Reuben, she had refused his offer of marriage to secure his freedom; his whole life loomed ahead of him, she’d explained, and she wanted him to return to America to make something of himself. But never would Daniel forget the joy-filled delight they took in each other, their secret overflowing glances, the way their hands always seemed to meet, and how their eyes always seemed to dance when they were together.
They’d stayed for two full years, two wonderful years Daniel wouldn’t have traded for anything on earth. Besides molding lifelong friendships out of sincere caring, the time he’d spent in France had formed the bedrock that enabled him to build a life for himself—solid, secure, enduring. But whenever things are too perfect, something is bound to go wrong, and that something was Bebe Rosen.
Daniel frowned. Maybe he wasn’t being fair to Bebe; it was, after all, Reuben who had raped her. This was where it always got sticky in his mind, and to this day he’d never pressed Reuben for details. He supposed when he got to France, if he got there at all, Mickey would tell him the rest of the story.
Philippe must be the child born of that rape; nothing else made sense, and even that didn’t make sense to Daniel. Maybe Mickey had had a child after he and Reuben returned to America. He groaned aloud. That was preposterous. He knew Mickey too well; she’d never do such an insane thing. It made more sense that she would take in Reuben’s flesh and blood. But why remain silent? And now, after all these years…
“Goddamit to hell!” Daniel barked. His lawyer’s mind ground to a halt. How can you come to a concrete conclusion without concrete facts? Impossible. Especially when you haven’t slept for an eternity. Daniel looked at his watch—an hour until dawn. He hunkered down, but his muddled thoughts gave him no peace.
The moment the first gray streaks appeared on the galley steps, he was off the bunk and up on deck. He leapt onto the pier and sprinted for the house, tearing at the yellow slicker as he ran. In the hallway he dropped the thick oilskin on the floor and raced for the steps leading to the second floor. He stopped short when he saw his wife at her dressing table, marveling, as he always did, at her appearance. She’d been out all night and most of the day before and still looked as perky as a fresh mint. Not a hair was out of place; her makeup was superb, her lips glossy and perfect. Gold winked at her ears and on her neck. The sea-green sheath with the slender straps was sleek and unwrinkled. Even the matching shoes were dry. As always, Daniel wondered how this was possible. For the life of him he couldn’t remember if she’d been wearing the same dress yesterday when she’d left the house. He nodded curtly as he headed for the bathroom.
“What were you doing out so early this morning, darling?” Rajean asked with idle unconcern.
“I spent the night on the boat,” he answered. He knew she wasn’t really interested; this was an old game between them.
“Oh…Darling, I think Cornelia and I will stay on a few extra days if you don’t mind. The city is so beastly hot right now, and everyone, but everyone, is gone. Maybe we should think about staying on here for the summer and you could come on weekends…. Daniel? Answer me….”
Daniel turned on the shower and walked naked into the bedroom, ignoring the look of distaste on his wife’s face. They were married, for Christ’s sake. “I think you should discuss it with Nellie. Do what you like, Rajean. I’ll leave the car at the ferry. I really don’t have time to talk now. Look…there’s every chance I’ll be…I might have to go out of town…it’s not definite…I’ll call you.”
“You do that, Daniel,” Rajean said coolly. “Then there’s no rush for Cornelia and me to go back, is there?”
Daniel stared into his wife’s glittering eyes. They emanated ice-cold nothingness. He tried to remember the last time they’d been in bed together. “No rush and no reason,” he said just as coolly. God. Had he really loved this woman once, this cold, chiseled beauty who could easily pose in the wax museum? “I’ve said this before, and I’m going to say it again, it’s not good for Nellie to see you coming in at dawn. Do you know what she said to me last night? She said you always come home, like a pigeon. Your daughter said that! Jesus, Rajean, can’t you at least be discreet?”
“Don’t preach, darling, unless you’re above reproach. But you are above reproach, aren’t you?” she said contemptuously. “Faithful and loyal to this ancient marriage. Yes, Daniel, you are a paragon of virtue. You think I’m an alley cat, don’t you, darling?”
“Stop with the darling bit, Rajean,” he said, trying to dead-end the conversation. They’d had it too often, and it only bored him now.
“You are just too damn stuffy, my love. All you think about is your clients and those goddamn law books of yours.” Rajean kicked off one of her shoes and sent it flying across the room. The other followed. “We really should think about divorce,” she said sourly.
“Yes, we should. I know I’m thinking about it very seriously.” Daniel had already turned to step into the shower.
Rajean’s eyes widened. She’d made references to a divorce hundreds of times before, but this was the first time Daniel had had a ready comeback. Her fingers trembled as she pulled at the gold globes at her ears. He would fight for Nellie, not that she really cared. A teenager whose eyes were always full of questions irritated her. But she knew it was out of the question anyway. She would never be able to get as much money as she’d need if she didn’t have custody, even if it was just for three years. And she knew how it would look if she gave in. Women weren’t supposed to give up their children without a struggle.
Damn! Daniel was so respectable…. It always brought her to the same conclusion—she needed that respectability and his stability. And since her own trust fund was depleted, she needed his money, too. There was no way she could dip into Nellie’s. Daniel had seen to that. Damn her parents for their double suicide during the stock market crash! Her lips curled into a sneer. A paltry fifty thousand dollars they’d left her, plus an apartment on Park Avenue and a place on the social register. Big deal. Four good seasonal parties, a little redecorating, and it was all gone. She did thank God, in her own way, every day, for not having brothers and sisters she’d have had to share it with.
Daniel had come along when she was down to her last two thousand dollars. He’d shared so much with her on their wedding night, but his bank balance was the only thing she remembered in any detail. She’d never really loved him the way a woman is supposed to love her husband. Daniel was so naive; he thought passion was something you uncorked from a bottle between the hours of midnight and one in the morning. Sex was something you did between the sheets with the lights out and your eyes closed—which suited her just fine. He’d been happy as a pig in clover when she’d agreed to his adopting Nellie, and that’s when he’d started the damned trust fund. Motherhood was not among her strong points. Sometimes she didn’t think she had any strong points except perhaps throwing a hell of a party and socializing. But that was enough for her: she’d gone to the best schools and been introduced into society in the most accepted of ways, and she took the privilege of being a DAR very seriously. It was something she was very proud of.
As Daniel stepped out of the shower and into their bedroom, Rajean watched her husband surreptitiously. He was handsome, she had to give him that. And in his characteristic white
