Page 20 of Into the Woods


  laughed like conspirators. I blushed at my own

  stupidity,

  "Don't sulk," Mommy urged when I turned

  away. "It's hard to imagine everything. I know. I told

  Winston his home is so big he might have some

  guests left over from a holiday party and not know it." Winston grunted in agreement, "That actually

  once happened." he said. "I thought a guest of ours

  had left along with three others, and she hadn't. It was

  quite embarrassing when I stepped out in my birthday

  suit."

  We walked through the house to the rear loggia.

  I couldn't help ogling everything. How could someone

  own so much art and not be considered a museum?

  The sitting rooms were large, but the dining room

  looked like a dining room I once saw at the naval

  officers school. The table went on and on as it would

  if it had a king at the head of it. How rich was

  Winston Montgomery? Did he own most of the

  country?

  We paused at a huge portrait of him and his

  wife. She was almost as tall as he was, elegant

  looking with soft eyes and a gentle. Mona Lisa smile.

  Winston looked much younger in the portrait, and all

  of his good qualities had been highlighted by the

  artist,

  "She was very beautiful, Winston." Mommy said.

  He nodded. I wondered if this was the first time she had seen the picture.

  He snapped out of his reverie quickly and smiled at Mommy. "I like to surround myself with beautiful things." he said.

  "We can see that, can't we. Grace?"

  "Yes." I said, noticing how he fixed his gaze on Mommy and she looked coyly back.

  "We'll show you the rest of the house later. Grace," he said. "Let's get to the yacht now so we can go to one of my favorite places on the coast where we'll have our lunch. If you're good," he kidded, "I'll have the captain let you steer."

  "Really?"

  Mommy laughed and put her arm around my shoulders as we stepped out onto the loggia and I panned the rear of the estate. The pool was as big and as beautiful as she had described. There was a cabana behind it I saw the private beach, the umbrellas and tables. Here there were also more gardens with people attending to the flowers. Off to the left was the socalled beach house, which to me looked like a small apartment

  And then there was the dock and the yacht. I had imagined a boat like Roger's, but this was so big it took my breath away. It looked more like a small cruise ship. How could one man own all this?

  Now you see why I was laughing when you said 'picnic on a boat,"' Mommy told me, observing my big eyes.

  "Our picnic boat is ninety-four feet long," Winston began as we started toward the dock. "It has three decks. At the top we have the wet bar, the flybridge, and the aft deck. You know what that means.

  "Yes," I said.

  "That's right. I keep forgetting you were a naval family," he said. smiling.

  We still are, I thought. Daddy used to say it was in his blood, so it was in mine,

  "On the second level we have the dining room and the main salon, and on the third level we have the three bedrooms, the master stateroom. a VIP stateroom, which you can consider yours today, if you like, and a double stateroom for guests. That cockpit you see contains the pilot house, and that's Captain Gene. He's been with me ever since I bought the yacht."

  "Are you sailing all the time?" I asked, and he laughed.

  "No, no. When I'm not using it, I lease it out to a very select list of clients. It doesn't come close to paving for it. I'm afraid," he said, smiling at Mommy.

  Besides the captain, a tall, lean man with a face leathered by years at sea, there were two other crewmen. Everyone was introduced, and we took a tour of the yacht.

  "All the rooms, with the exception of the pilot house, of course, were designed and decorated for me by Giovanni Marcella." Winston said.

  Mommy widened her eyes and nodded, but I could see she didn't know any more about this Giovanni Marcella than I did.

  "He's done everyone's yachts down here and in Monte Carlo," Winston continued. He spoke nonchalantly about it, not sounding like someone putting on airs. I thought. "I was too busy to go interviewing and comparing designers. I left that up to my wife. It was one of the last big things she did," he said, not hiding his sadness. I liked that because it told me he wasn't ashamed to express in front of another woman just how much he had cared for her and how much he still missed her.

  "She made an excellent choice," Mommy said.

  He smiled. "Yes, we've always been

  complimented."

  When we stepped into the galley, there were two women preparing our lunch. Now I really felt foolish calling it a picnic.

  "This is Louisa, my chef, captain of the kitchen." he cried, and a short woman with black hair invaded by gray strands turned to beam a smile at us. She had a very soft, friendly face with eyes as black as her hair. Her cheeks were rosy and plump, and she had a slight cleft in her chin.

  "I'm no captain, Mr. Montgomery, just a cook," she gently chastised.

  "And this is her daughter Angelina." Winston said.

  Angelina nodded at us. I thought she wasn't all that much older than I was, She lowered her dark eyes shyly. She had her mother's hair but was much slimmer, with a narrow, almost bony face. Her hands were thin, too, the fingers spidery as she kneaded dough I imagined would be turned into fresh bread.

  "What's today's picnic lunch?" Winston asked, smiling at me. Mommy grinned from ear to ear.

  "Calamari frittata and mushrooms stuffed with crab meat," Louisa began, "mozzarella and tomato salad, lobster bisque, poached salmon, fettuccine with fresh tomatoes and shrimp Alfredo. We are preparing the garlic bread." she said, nodding at her daughter.

  "And dessert? We're all interested in dessert," he said, smiling at me.

  "We have chocolate truffle tarts and creme brulee and some Italian cookies." she said as if they had it every day.

  "Creme brulee! I love creme brulee!" Mommy exclaimed.

  Winston laughed, "As you can see. I stole Louisa from a restaurant in Capri one summer. and I have never returned her, although she threatens every now and then to go back." he said, raising his eyebrows and glaring at her with feigned anger.

  "Some-a-day I will." Louisa said, meeting his challenge. Winston laughed, She glanced at her daughter, who just worked as we talked.

  "I'll throw myself overboard when she leaves," Winston threatened. and Louisa gave him another reprimanding look that had us all laughing.

  We went to the pilot house and watched Captain Gene get Winston's yacht under way. Then Mommy and I went down to the bridge and sat on some lounges while Winston and his captain discussed the itinerary.

  The warm breeze blew through our hair. We could feel the spray of the sea as the yacht sliced through the waves. How bright and beautiful it all looked from this perspective. Even the clouds were whiter. I couldn't help feeling like someone special.

  "Do you believe all this. Grace? Can you imagine what it must be like living like this all the time, doing whatever you want whenever you want to do it?"

  "No" I said. "Doesn't he still have to work?"

  "He has his affairs handled by a business manager. He oversees everything, but he's not involved in the day-to-day nitty-gritty anymore. He took a giant step back from all that after his wife's death."

  "How did she die?"

  "She had what they call an aneurism. cerebral. Fortunately, she didn't linger in a coma."

  "Why didn't they ever have any children?" I asked.

  "They tried, She had two miscarriages, and they gave up. They talked about adopting but never got around to doing it and finally decided they were both too old to be good parents. That's what he says. He had a nephew he was fond of and helped him financially. He says he can't help wond
ering if he bears any responsibility for his nephew's selfdestructive ways, ways that eventually led to his death. He got heavily into drugs and died a horrible death in some flophouse in New Orleans. It broke his parents' hearts, and in their search for someone or something to blame they blamed Winston for being too generous. They became estranged. His brother died last year, and his sister-in-law kept it from him until it was too late for him to attend the funeral.-

  "I guess no matter how rich you are you can't escape from family tragedy," I said.

  "Not if you're not responsible and up to being rich. Some people can't handle success, just as some can't handle failure. That's what Winston says."

  "You and he did talk about a lot the other night, in just one night" I remarked.

  She smiled like someone who knew a lot more than she was

  "Everyone wearing sun screen?" Winston asked as he approached.

  "Oh, no!" Mommy said in a panic.

  "Don't worry." He handed lotion to us. "Can't let my two beauties spoil their skin." he said. "Come along, Grace," he told me after I had put some on my face. "Let Captain Gene show you how this big toy works."

  He reached for my hand and led me back to the pilot house. where Captain Gene gave me a beginner's course in yachting, while below Mommy and Winston sat talking or standing and looking out at the sea. Mommy looking more radiant than ever, as if she already owned it all.

  When we reached the bay Winston loved. Captain Gene set anchor and we began our feast, everything brought out slowly to the dining area. Winston offered me some wine, and I looked at Mommy to see what I should do.

  "It's okay, honey. Food like this almost requires good wine."

  "Spoken like a true Palm Beach resident," Winston remarked.

  "We don't live in Palm Beach," I said.

  "Palm Beach." Winston said, sitting back and looking serious and philosophical. is really a state of mind, a style. Some abuse it, overdo it, just as you can overdo your appreciation of any of the finer things in life, drinking too much of this excellent French wine, for example, eating too much of Louisa's wonderful food. The secret is reaching a level of enjoyment and holding it for a while and then retreating or knowing when to retreat."

  He paused and looked at Mommy, who did seem to hang on his every word, and then he looked at me. "Oh. I'm sorry. I can get that way sometimes: heavy and philosophical. It's the old man in me."

  "That's wonderful. Winston. It's nice to know someone who is willing to share his wisdom with others. And you're far from an old man," Mommy said.

  He smiled at her, but he glanced worriedly at me. "I didn't mean to get too serious and spoil our day of fun." he said.

  "It's all right. I think I understand what you're saying." I looked at Mommy and then back at him. "Do you know the myth of Icarus?" I asked him, glancing at Mommy, too.

  He thought a moment and shook his head.

  "Daedalus, an inventor in Athens, was exiled to the island of Crete with his son Icarus. He invented an escape using feathers and wings so they could fly off, but he told Icarus not to fly too high, or the sun would melt his wax and his wings would fall off. Icarus was so excited to be flying that he disregarded the warning and flew too high. He fell to the sea."

  I glanced at Mommy again. She looked pensive, even worried. Was I telling her all this was simply too high a reach for us?

  Winston was silent. Then he smiled. "I see we have a real student among us. I'm one who believes you're never too old to learn something new. I have a few business associates I'd like to tell that story to, Grace. I suppose having too much ambition is bad, but not having enough is just as bad, wouldn't you say?"

  "Yes."

  "The trick is finding the shoe that fits. huh?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Well, back to having fun," he said, clapping his hands as if he could control the weather and the rise and fall of the sun itself. "Let's get the yacht under way again."

  "Don't you have to get home to get ready for work, Mommy?" I asked.

  Not tonight. I've already taken care of that."

  "Another day off?"

  "It's all right. Grace. Don't worry," she said firmly.

  Winston held his smile. "It's nice to see a young adult who can be serious and responsible." he said.

  I knew he meant it. but I was feeling more like Icarus, letting the compliments, the opulence, the overwhelming world of Winston Montgomery carry me too close to the sun. What I feared most was that Mommy was closer than I was already. Her wings were melting fast.

  .

  How can I say we didn't enjoy this day? It was so much fun steering the yacht, making it go faster and slower. How different the world looked from this viewpoint. It all made me feel free and important. Mommy surprised me when Winston suggested we all go for a swim in his pool. She had brought my bathing suit in her bag.

  We ended up staying well into the evening. Louisa prepared a light supper of tasty salads, and we ate on the rear loggia, watching the sunset.

  "It's so beautiful here, so peaceful," Mommy said. "You can feel you've escaped everything unpleasant."

  "Yes. That is why I think the original owners named it Joya del Mar. The sea's gift is this sense of contentment.

  "Well. Jackie." he said, turning to Mommy. "you've done it again," He pretended to be angry.

  "Done what?"

  "Caused me to lose all track of time."

  "I did..."

  "So I've come up with a solution." he said, and reached into his pocket to produce a slim creamcolored box. "This might help."

  She looked at me astonished and then slowly opened the box. Before she took what was in it out, she screamed. "Winston! It isn't a real one, is it?"

  "I don't know how to buy anything that isn't," he said, winking at me. "I refuse to have anything do to with anything or anyone who isn't authentic."

  She held it up. It was a Rolex watch. "I can't accept..."

  "Here." he said, interrupting and reaching aver to take the watch. "Let me help you put it on." He fastened it around her wrist, and she stared for a moment with her mouth still wide open. Then she held it out for me to see.

  "It's beautiful." I said.

  "And keeps good time." Winston added. He laughed and signaled the maid to bring out their coffee. Mommy was glowing so brightly I thought she would rival the moon that was brightening into a quarter of itself every passing moment.

  Afterward I wandered dawn to the shore and walked along, feeling the cool sand in my toes. The value of the gift Winston had given my mother was not lost on me. This was long past just a friendship, and that made me feel shaky and numb. Mommy and Winston went inside, and when I returned I did, too, but I didn't find them immediately. I sat and watched some television in his entertainment center, and about an hour later Mommy appeared.

  "We'd better get home. Grace. It's been a big day."

  "Where's Winston?"

  "He had to make some phone calls. The limousine is waiting for us."

  "But shouldn't I thank him?"

  "You can do that tomorrow," she said.

  "Tomorrow?"

  "He's taking us to dinner, someplace very special," she said. There was an impish twinkle in her eyes.

  "You're skipping another night of work then?" I asked as we started out,

  "Yes. Dallas is fine with it."

  She dozed as we were driven home. Her beautiful new Rolex twinkled in whatever light invaded the limousine. I sat looking out the window at the brightly lit streets of Palm Beach and then the bridge and the restaurants, nightclubs and gas stations we passed as we traveled through West Palm Beach, back to our condo development. Our apartment never looked as small to me.

  "This is like a closet in Joya del Mar." I remarked after we had entered.

  Mommy laughed. "Exactly," she said. "We're not staying here forever. That's for sure."

  I hadn't meant it to sound as if I was suffering or ashamed of our home, but that was how she had taken it. Anyway, she was r
ight about the day. Even though it was a day of total enjoyment, it was tiring. I wasn't in bed five minutes before I drifted asleep and slept contentedly, maybe for the first time in a long time, until the sunlight exploded in my room and opened my eyes.

  I was surprised to see Mommy in my room. She was looking in my closet.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "Just thinking about what you should wear to dinner tonight." she said. "I don't think you have the right sort of dress."

  I sat up.

  "What? What time is it?" I glanced at the clock, "It's only seven-thirty in the morning!"

  "I know, silly. I was worried about it. and I'm right, We're going shopping."

  "Today?"

  "The store I want to go to opens at nine-thirty today." she said. "You're going to need some new shoes. too." She turned to me. "I might get myself something new as well," she said. "Get up soon so we can have breakfast."

  I watched her leave, wondering if I was still asleep and dreaming the whole thing.

  After we ate and dressed we headed out to the shop. Mommy knew exactly where she wanted to take us. It was back in Palm Beach and just reeked expensive. What was she thinking of?

  We were looking at clothing in the high hundreds and thousands, designer dresses and shoes. I wondered if the saleswomen who rushed about finding garments to show us had any idea what sort of income level we were on. None of that seemed to matter.

  "Mommy." I whispered when she insisted I try on a Coco Chanel black dress. It had a dozen gold Chanel logo buttons on the bodice and two on each cuff and a gleaming gold belt with a buckle etched with Chanel, tuxedo lapels, and two slash hip pockets. "It's too expensive."

  "But it's so practical." Mommy insisted, "You can wear it to most anything."

  "Practical?"

  Maybe it was less expensive in other stores, but here they wanted $995! She was already looking for the shoes to match the outfit. I half hoped it would look terrible on me, but when I stepped out of the fitting room and gazed at myself in the mirror there was no hope of that. Even some other customers stopped to compliment me.

  Mommy beamed, "Perfect," she said.

  The shoes she found were almost as much as the dress. I couldn't speak. Had she gone totally mad?