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Star (1989) Page 7
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I am. Thank you. He wondered what she did with herself, played tennis probably, and shopped with friends or her mother, but he was surprised at her father's next announcement.
Elizabeth is going to Vassar in the fall. We tried to talk her into Stanford, to no avail. She is determined to go East and leave us here, pining for her. But I'm hoping the cold winters will convince her that she'd rather be out here. Her mother and I are going to miss her. Elizabeth smiled at his words, and Spencer was surprised by how young she was. Eighteen-year-old girls had certainly changed in the last few years. And as he looked at her, it struck him forcibly that she was everything that Crystal wasn't.
It's a wonderful school, Miss Barclay, Spencer was friendly but cool. My sister-in-law went there. I'm sure you're going to like it. And for some reason, from his words, she assumed that he was married. It never occurred to her that he meant his brother's wife. And for an instant, she was aware of the faintest twinge of disappointment. He was a good-looking man, and there was an intriguing magnetism about him.
The butler announced dinner then, and Priscilla Barclay shepherded her guests gently toward the dining room. It had black-and-white marble floors, wood-paneled walls, and a handsome crystal chandelier hanging over the heavy English table. There were candles lit in handsome silver candelabra, and the table shone with Limoges in white and gold, and crystal glasses that caught the light of the candles and reflected it back onto the silver. The napkins were heavy and large, embroidered with the monogram of Priscilla Barclay's mother, and the guests found their way easily to their seats with the hostess's gentle directions. There were place cards of course, too, in elaborate little silver holders. And Elizabeth was pleased to find herself sitting next to Spencer. She knew instantly that her mother had done some rapid rearranging.
There was smoked salmon for the first course, and tiny Olympia oysters. And by the time the main course came, Elizabeth and Spencer were deep in conversation. He marveled again at her intelligence and how well informed she was. There was nothing she seemed not to know about, about world affairs or domestic politics, history or art. She was a remarkable girl, and he had been right, she would do very well at Vassar. In many ways, she reminded him a great deal of his brother's wife, except that Elizabeth was even a little grander. There was nothing showy or ostentatious about her. She was all fine mind and extraordinarily good manners. She even made a point of talking to the man on her right, another of her father's friends, and then eventually she turned back to Spencer.
So, Mr. Hill, what are you going to do now, freshly graduated from Stanford? She eyed him with interest and poise, and for a moment he felt younger than she was, and had he had a little less to drink it might actually have unnerved him.
Go to work in New York.
Do you have a job? She was interested and a little blunt. She saw no point in wasting time. In an odd way, he liked that about her. He didn't need to play games, and if she could ask him questions, he could do the same with her. It was actually easier than flirting.
Yes, I do. With Anderson, Vincent, and Sawbrook.
I'm impressed. She took a sip of wine, and smiled up at him.
Do you know them?
I've heard my father mention them. They're the biggest firm on Wall Street.
Now I'm impressed, he teased, but in a way he meant it. You know an awful lot for a girl of eighteen. No wonder you got into Vassar.
Thank you. I've been hanging out at dinner tables for years. I guess once in a while it's useful. But it was more than that. She was very bright, and if he'd been in a better mood, he might even have liked her. There was no mystery to her of course, no poetry, no magic, but a very sharp mind, and an incredible directness that intrigued him. And in a cool, patrician way, she was very attractive. More so as the evening wore on and he continued to drink Harrison Barclay's wine. It was an odd way to end a day that had begun with a christening in the Alexander Valley. But he couldn't imagine Crystal here. No matter what he felt for her she wouldn't have fit in. In this setting, he couldn't imagine anyone but this girl, with the forthright brown eyes and the straightforward manner. But as he listened to her, his heart still ached for Crystal.
When are you leaving San Francisco?
In two days. He said it with regret, but for reasons neither of them fully understood. He couldn't understand the dull ache he'd felt since that afternoon as he drove back to San Francisco. And she thought there was nothing more exciting than moving to New York. She could hardly wait until September.
That's too bad. I was hoping you might come up to see us at Lake Tahoe.
I'd have liked that. But I've got an awful lot to do. I start work in two weeks, that won't give me much time to get settled before they bury me in a sea of papers on Wall Street.
Are you excited? Her eyes probed his again and he decided to be honest with her.
I'm not sure, to tell the truth. I'm still trying to figure out why I went to law school.
What would you have done instead?
Medicine, if I hadn't gone into the army. The war changed things for everyone, I suppose ' for some a lot worse than for me. He looked pensive for a moment, thinking of his brother. I was very lucky.
I think you're very lucky to be a lawyer.
Do you? He was amused again. She was an intriguing girl, and he sensed easily that there was not an ounce of weakness or indecision in Elizabeth Barclay. Why?
I'd like to go to law school too. After Vassar.
He was impressed, but not entirely surprised. Then you should. But wouldn't you rather marry and have children? It seemed a more natural option to him, and it was unlikely that any man would tolerate her doing both. In 1947, one had to opt for one, or the other. It seemed a high price to pay to him. In her shoes, he would far rather have had a husband and children, but Elizabeth didn't look convinced.
Maybe. For an instant she looked young and unsure, then she shrugged, as the dessert was served. And then she startled him with her next question. What's your wife like, Mr. Hill?
Excuse me? I ' I'm sorry ' what ever made you think I was married? He looked horrified and then he laughed. Did he seem so old to her that it was inconceivable he could still be single? If so, how ancient he must have seemed earlier that day to Crystal. She was still on his mind, even as he forced himself to converse with Elizabeth Barclay, although she certainly wasn't difficult to talk to. But his mind was still far away, and a piece of his heart that seemed to have betrayed him.
For the first time, Elizabeth looked bemused, and he saw that beneath the carefully coiffed auburn hair, she was blushing. I thought you said ' you mentioned your sister-in-law earlier in the evening ' I just assumed ' He laughed as she stammered over the explanation, and he shook his head, his blue eyes alive in the light of the candles.
I'm afraid not. I was referring to my brother's widow.
Was he killed in the war?
Yes, he was.
I'm very sorry.
He nodded and coffee was served, as the ladies withdrew, at the instigation of Priscilla Barclay. She thanked her daughter quietly as they left the room.
Thank you, Elizabeth. We would have been in a terrible spot without you.
She smiled easily at her mother, and for an instant, put an arm around the older woman's shoulders. Priscilla Barclay was still pretty, although she was over sixty. I had fun. I like Spencer Hill. A lot more in fact, now that he just told me he's not married.
Elizabeth! Her mother pretended to be shocked, but in fact she wasn't, and Elizabeth knew it. He's much too old for you. He must be almost thirty.
That's just right, and it might be fun to see him in New York. He's going to work for Anderson, Vincent, and Sawbrook. Her mother nodded, and moved away to chat with the other ladies, and a little while later, the gentlemen joined them. The party broke up shortly after that, and Spencer thanked the Barclays for inviting him, and made a point of saying good night to their daughter.
Good luck at school.
&n
bsp; Thank you. Her eyes were warm, and for the first time he decided that he really liked her. She was nicer than Robert's wife, and actually, considerably smarter. Good luck with the new job. You'll do famously, I'm sure.
I'll try to remind myself of that in a month or two, when I'm pining for the easy life at Stanford. Maybe we'll meet in New York sometime. She smiled up at him encouragingly, as her mother approached them and thanked him for coming.
You'll have to check on Elizabeth for us, when she's in New York.
He smiled, thinking it unlikely that they would meet, but he was always polite. He thought college freshmen were a little young for him ' and then, of course, there was Crystal' .
Let me know if you come to town.
I'll do that. She smiled warmly at him, and looked younger again, and a moment later, he left them. He went back to the Fairmont, thinking of her, and her steady flow of interesting conversation. Maybe she was right, he told himself. Maybe she should go to law school. She would be wasted as someone's wife, playing bridge, and gossiping with other women. But it wasn't Elizabeth he dreamed of that night, when he finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning ' it was the girl with the platinum blond hair and eyes the color of a summer sky ' the girl who had sung as though her heart would break ' in his dream, she sat on the swing, watching him, and he could never quite ireach her. He slept fitfully that night, and for only a few hours. At daybreak he was up, watching the sun rise slowly over the bay, and a hundred miles away, Crystal walked through the fields in bare feet, thinking of him as she wandered toward the river, singing softly.
Spencer did errands that next day, tying up loose ends, and dropping in on a few friends, to say good-bye and wish them well. And suddenly, he was desperately sorry to leave them. He regretted his decision to go back to New York, and promised himself he'd come back one day. It was a melancholy day for him, and he went to bed early that night, and took the plane to New York the next morning. It was Crystal's sixteenth birthday.
His parents were waiting for him, and he felt foolish being greeted as the conquering hero. Even Barbara, Robert's widow, was there, and her two daughters. They had a late supper at his parents' house, and Barbara had to leave to take the girls home before they fell asleep at the table.
Well, Son? his father said expectantly after the others had gone home, and his mother had retired to their bedroom. How does it feel to be back home again? He was anxious to hear an encouraging answer. Spencer had been gone for too long, six years, between the war and his two years at Stanford, and he was relieved to have him back in New York where he belonged. It was time for Spencer to settle down and become someone, just as Robert would have done, had he lived.
I'm not sure how I feel yet. Spencer was honest with him. It looks the same, more or less, as the last time I was home. New York hasn't changed. He didn't add what he was really thinking ' but I have '
I hope you'll be happy here. But William Hill didn't really doubt it.
I'm sure I will, Father, thank you. But he was less sure than he had ever been. A part of him longed to go back to California. I saw Judge Barclay before I left, by the way. He sent you his regards.
William Hill nodded, pleased. He'll be on the Supreme Court one day, mark my words. It wouldn't surprise me. His sons are good men too. His oldest boy was in my courtroom the other day. He's a very fine lawyer.
I hope someone says that about me one day. Spencer sat down on the couch in his father's study, and ran a hand through his hair with a tired sigh. It had been a long day, a long week ' a long war ' and suddenly the thought of what he was facing depressed him.
You've done the right thing, Spencer. Never doubt it.
How can you be so sure? I'm not Robert, Dad ' I'm me ' but Spencer knew he couldn't say that. What if I hate Anderson, Vincent, and Sawbrook?
Then you'll go to work in the legal department of a corporation. With a law degree, you can do almost anything you want. Private practice, business, law ' politics ' He said the word hopefully, that was where his real hopes were, and Spencer would be perfect for it one day. Just as his brother had been before him. Robert, their shining hope so quickly extinguished. Barbara's looking well, isn't she?
Yes. Spencer nodded quietly, wondering if his father knew him at all. How's she doing?
It's been hard for her. But she's recovering, I think, he said, and turned away for a moment so Spencer wouldn't see the tears in his eyes, I suppose we all are. And then he turned and smiled at Spencer. We've rented a house on Long Island. Your mother and I thought you might like the diversion. And Barbara and the children will be there for the rest of the month of August. It was strange coming back to the bosom of his family, he was no longer sure he belonged there. He had been twenty-two when he went to war, and so much had changed since then. So much had happened to change him. And now, with Robert gone, he felt as though he had returned to lead not his own life, but Robert's.
That was nice of you, Dad. I'm not sure how much free time I'll have once I start work.
You'll have weekends.
Spencer nodded. They were expecting him to be a boy again, their youngest son. He felt as though he had lost his own life somewhere on the way home from California.
We'll see. I have to find an apartment this week.
You can stay here, until you find your feet again.
Thank you, Dad. He looked up, and for the first time his father seemed old to him, old and cherishing hopes that had died with Spencer's brother. I appreciate it. And then, out of curiosity, Is Barbara seeing anyone? It had been three years after all, and she was a pretty girl. She had been perfectly suited to Robert. Ambitious, cool, intelligent, beautifully brought up, the perfect wife for a would-be politician.
I don't know, his father answered honestly. We don't discuss it. You ought to take her out to dinner sometime. She's probably still pretty lonely.
Spencer nodded. He wanted to see his nieces, too, but he had too much else to think about right now. And he felt drained by the expectations suddenly being put on him.
He felt exhausted as he fell into bed that night. The impact of what had been waiting for him seemed to have fallen on him with a crushing weight, and he wanted to cry as he went to sleep. He felt like a child who had gotten lost on the way home. The one thing he knew was that he had to find his own apartment, his own life, and quickly.
The remainder of the summer seemed to drift by, as Crystal helped on the ranch, and stopped by from time to time to play with Becky's baby. Tom was always off somewhere, checking over the vineyards with Tad or in town with his friends. And Jared spent every spare moment with his girlfriend in Calistoga. It was as though suddenly she was alone, with no one to be with, and no one to talk to. And she began riding over to visit Hiroko more and more often. Crystal would find her reading quietly, or sewing, or sketching with pen and ink, and she even taught Crystal how to write haiku. She was a gentle woman with a warm heart and the skills of a culture that fascinated Crystal. She taught her how to make little origami birds, and showed her how her own mother had taught her to arrange flowers. There was none of the obvious showiness of what she knew that went with Western ways, everything about her was quiet and discreet and very subtle. And, like Crystal, she was solitary and very lonely. She still had no friends among Boyd's relatives, she understood fully now how deeply they resented her, and she suspected that it would never be any different. She was all the more grateful for Crystal's companionship, and the two women became fast friends, as Hiroko waited for her baby.
And when school began, Crystal often went to visit her, sitting for long hours by the fire, doing her homework. She hated to go home anymore. Her mother was always with Becky anyway, and her grandmother was always scolding her. The only one who ever had a kind word for her was her father, and he had been ill again. Crystal confessed to Hiroko after Thanksgiving how worried she was about him. He looked tired and pale and he coughed all the time. It terrified her. The man who had seemed invincible to her all her l
ife was suddenly failing. He had had pneumonia again, and he hadn't ridden out in weeks. It made Crystal want to cling to him. She knew that if she ever lost him, her life would be over. He was her cohort, her ally, her staunch defender, the others were all too quick to turn on her, to blame her for petty things, and to berate her for everything she wasn't. She didn't want to do the things Becky did. She didn't want to sit in her kitchen all day, drinking coffee and making cookies, she didn't want to gossip with the other women, or marry a man like Tom and have his babies. Tom Parker had grown fat in less than two years, and he always reeked of beer, except on the weekends, when he stank of whiskey.
Crystal knew she wasn't like the rest of them. Instinctively, she had always sensed that she was different, and she knew that her father knew it too. And Hiroko. She had long since confessed to the gentle Japanese girl that she sometimes dreamed about being in the movies. But there was no way she could leave her father now. She wouldn't have left him for anything. But one day ' maybe one day ' the dream of Hollywood never died in her ' nor did her dreams of Spencer. But she never confessed her feelings about him to Hiroko and Boyd, although she told them everything else. They were her only friends, and she rode over to see them often. Hiroko was the only woman friend she'd ever had, and Crystal had long since come to love her. Hiroko offered her the encouragement and warmth she found nowhere else, except with her father.
She confessed her fears to her that she'd never escape the valley, that none of her dreams would come true. But she loved the valley too. Her feelings for it were intricately woven in with her love for her father. She loved the land, and the trees, the roll of the hills, and the mountains beyond them. She even loved the smell of it, especially in spring when everything was fresh and new, and the rains had turned everything bright emerald. Living there forever wouldn't be the worst fate imaginable, even if it meant giving up her dreams of being in the movies. She just didn't want to marry a man like Tom Parker. The mere thought of it made her shudder.