Claire at Sixteen

  “It could be,” Claire said. “Who’s your favorite?”

  “For serious stuff, Melville,” Scotty replied. “For relaxation, Louis L’Amour. Who do you like best?”

  “Colette,” Claire said.

  Scotty laughed. “I should have known,” he declared. “You are definitely not the Louisa May Alcott type.”

  “I’m not the Jane Austen type, either,” Claire said. “And I hope this won’t upset you, but I’m not the Melville type or even the Louis L’Amour.”

  “I bet you’re great at l’amour,” Scotty said. “I bet you know all the rules.”

  “I’m sure there are things you could teach me,” Claire replied, trying to decide if she wanted to go to bed with him. On the one hand, it would be fun, especially knowing that Thea still didn’t have any idea what was going on. And Scotty was good-looking and nice and well-to-do, an admirable combination. But if she let Scotty sleep with her, then he’d never respect her again. And while in the long run she didn’t care if Scotty respected her, for the next few days it might come in handy to have him think of her as at least a halfway decent girl.

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Scotty said. “I’m dying to get there.”

  That decided it. Claire was not about to be a quick roll in the hay. “Scotty, please listen to me,” she said, and she wished she looked younger, looked more like Megs. “I don’t want you to think I’ve been misleading you.”

  “About what?” Scotty asked.

  “About our making love,” Claire replied. “I want you so much, but not today, not like this.”

  “You mean in the car?” Scotty said. “It wouldn’t be in the car. Why do you think I’m taking you to my house?”

  “That’s it,” Claire said. “I want you to be taking me there because it’s important to you, because it’s your home, not just some place that’s cheaper and more convenient than a motel.”

  “I don’t like teases,” Scotty said.

  Who does? Claire thought. “That’s why I’m being honest with you,” she replied. “I’ve dreamed about us being lovers. For years that’s all I’ve wanted.”

  “It’s what I want, too,” Scotty said.

  “No,” Claire said. “You want us to have sex. That’s only part of it.”

  “You want flowers too?” Scotty said. “Boxes of candy? You want me to take you to the movies first? I didn’t think that was your style.”

  It wasn’t, and Claire had to give Scotty a couple of points for perceptiveness. “I want us to know each other better,” Claire said. “That’s all. I want to see your home, see where you grew up. You have an advantage over me. You know my family, I don’t know yours. I want us to share our lives, just a little bit, before we share a bed.”

  “I like the ‘just a little bit’ part,” Scotty said. “You busy tomorrow?”

  “No,” Claire said. “Yes. We’re going to visit Aunt Grace. But I’ll be free in the evening.”

  “Do you want me to turn around?” Scotty asked. “Take you away from bedrooms?”

  “I trust you,” Claire replied. “And I would love to see your home. You made it sound so special.”

  “It is,” Scotty said. “I used to love spending time there. I hated leaving it all the time.”

  Claire pictured Scotty’s long lonely childhood and wished she had more time to be sympathetic to him. She’d bought a day’s reprieve, but that might not be enough. And there were things she had to get from Scotty, information if nothing else. “Did you get to spend a lot of time with your grandparents?” she asked. “I always thought it must be nice having grandparents.”

  “You’re welcome to mine,” Scotty said. “My grandparents aren’t exactly the warm cuddly kind.”

  “Even the legendary Sebastian?” Claire asked. “How could someone with a name like that not be perfect?”

  Scotty laughed. “It’s nicer as a last name than a first one,” he said. “He has a real cruel streak. He used to make me cry sometimes with the things he said.”

  “He’s still alive?” Claire asked.

  Scotty nodded. “All four of my grandparents are still alive. Granny, my mother’s mother, is pretty nice. They’ll be up for a visit over New Year’s. We’ll all be together then.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re looking forward to it,” Claire said. So Sebastian Prescott was going to be in town. She wondered how Evvie would react if she knew. “Isn’t the house big enough?”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Scotty said. “Your family is so close. But I don’t have that much in common with mine. My mother worships Schyler, I guess because he looks like her, and my father, well, he’s cold, like his parents. I never fit in. But there were times I’d dream about being in a normal family, the kind where everybody lives together and loves each other. The normal American kind. That’s what our house looks like, a stage set for that family. Well, you’ll see what I mean. Here we are.”

  They drove into a curving driveway, and Claire looked at what was a genuine mansion. The house was stately and white, and she could see even in winter how well tended the grounds were. If Claire owned a house like that, she’d never leave it.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said as she and Scotty got out of Clark’s sports car. “It looks like a dream.”

  “It is a dream,” Scotty said. “Be careful. The steps are icy.”

  Claire held on to him as they walked to the front door. Scotty opened it, and she followed him in. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “If Thoreau had lived here, he never would have moved to Walden Pond.”

  Scotty laughed. “Let me turn the heat up,” he said. “It’s an old house, so it’ll take a while to warm up. You might want to keep your coat on.”

  “Thank you,” Claire said.

  “For what?” Scotty asked.

  “For bringing me here,” Claire replied. “And for understanding.”

  “You’re worth waiting for,” Scotty said. “And you were right. We shouldn’t rush. You’re not cheap, and neither am I.”

  Scotty really was nice. Claire marveled again at how foolish Thea was.

  “Will you give me the tour?” she asked. “I want to see everything.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure,” Scotty said. He reached his hand out, and Claire took it, then moved closer and kissed him. “Sorry,” she said when they had finished. “I thought I saw some mistletoe.”

  “I have a garden of it in my bedroom,” Scotty said. “Hanging trellises. It grows out of my ceiling like ivy.”

  “Or mildew,” Claire replied. “I just had to kiss you then. But that’s all.”

  “That’s all,” Scotty said, kissing her back. Claire was breathless by the time they finished. Maybe she was being too cautious. How cheap could it be to make love in a mansion?

  “Claire,” Scotty said. “Oh, Claire. You drive me crazy.”

  “I drive myself crazy,” Claire said, and she realized that was the first completely truthful thing she’d said to him. “I’m sorry, Scotty. It’s just I want everything.”

  “That’s what you deserve,” he said. “All right. Let’s get this tour going while we can still think.”

  Claire nodded. Scotty led the way into the living room.

  “Isn’t it lovely,” he said, gesturing at the decorating-magazine perfection of the room. “As kids we were never allowed in here. My mother was afraid we’d get things dirty.”

  Claire sympathized with Scotty’s mother. If she had a room that pretty, she wouldn’t let two boys anywhere near it. “Where were you allowed?” she asked.

  “In the family room,” Scotty replied. “Here, I’ll show you.” He led her through a maze of rooms, each as perfect as the last until they reached a room that only by the Hugheses’ standard could be called a family room. It too was without blemish, only the TV was there, and the VCR, and a pool table, and a model train set, and an upright piano.

  “You have a piano,” Claire said. They had been supposed to get one, but Sybil had gotten
hurt instead.

  “We have two,” Scotty replied. “The baby grand is in the music room upstairs.”

  “Of course,” Claire said. She walked over to the piano, and checked out the photographs on it. There was Scotty in short pants, and standing next to him an older boy she assumed was Schyler. He was handsome, but Scotty was cuter. There were pictures of a couple she assumed were Scotty’s parents, including one of them standing with Clark. And there was a picture of Nicky, as a very young man, standing with a woman Claire didn’t recognize.

  “My grandparents on their honeymoon,” Scotty said. “The legendary Sebastian, as you called him.”

  Claire stared at the picture and hoped she wasn’t giving anything away with her reaction. Of course it wasn’t Nicky. The picture was at least fifty years old; she could tell that from the dress the woman was wearing.

  But she had seen snapshots of Nicky on his wedding day, and the resemblance between the two men was extraordinary. And one way or another, they shared the name Sebastian.

  And then Claire realized the kernel of truth Sam had tossed into his story that morning. There were no secrets about Schyler. That was a lie. But Evvie knew the name Sebastian Prescott from the summer she met Schyler, the summer she spent with Aunt Grace at Eastgate. And that meant Aunt Grace would know for sure what Claire was beginning to suspect.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Behave yourselves,” Evvie whispered to Claire and Thea as they stood in Aunt Grace’s front parlor waiting for her to greet them.

  It seemed to Claire all she’d been doing lately was behaving herself, but she kept her opinion to herself. Besides, Evvie probably wouldn’t agree.

  “Aunt Grace scares me,” Thea said. “How long do we have to stay?”

  “Five minutes,” Evvie replied. “Seven tops.”

  Claire smiled. Aunt Grace didn’t scare her any. Why Thea should be scared of a ninety-year-old escaped her. Not that she’d care to spend much time with the old lady. But what time she spent, she intended to use wisely.

  “Girls,” Aunt Grace said, walking into the parlor. She used a cane, and looked a little steadier on her feet than Sybil did. “I see you’ve come as you said you would.”

  “Aunt Grace,” Evvie said, walking over to her to exchange a perfunctory kiss. Thea followed, and then Claire. Of the four of them, only Claire was smiling.

  “You look like your father,” Aunt Grace said to Claire. “Grinning that way.”

  Claire had never seen Nicky grin, although she knew he used his smile to great effect. She doubted she was grinning, either, but there was no reason to quibble. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll try to be more somber.”

  Aunt Grace harrumphed, and sat down on a Victorian love seat that looked old, mean, and uncomfortable. They belonged together, Claire decided, sitting on a chair that wasn’t the kind a person lingered on. Thea and Evvie sat next to each other on a couch.

  “Where’s that Steinmetz boy?” Aunt Grace asked. “The one you drag along on your visits to me.”

  “There’s only one Steinmetz boy,” Evvie pointed out. “And he’s on his way to Long Island right now to visit his grandparents.”

  “Dare I hope this means the two of you are no longer together?” Aunt Grace asked.

  Evvie shook her head. “Don’t dare,” she replied. “We intend to be together for the rest of our lives.”

  Claire marveled at how matter-of-factly Evvie said that. When Nicky and Megs pledged eternal love, they got operatic. Claire definitely preferred the no-nonsense approach.

  “So,” Aunt Grace said. “Thea. How is college?”

  “Fine, Aunt Grace,” Thea squeaked.

  “I never went to college,” Aunt Grace declared. “In my day, attending finishing school was all a really well-bred girl required. Of course, your breeding lacks the social amenities, to be polite about it.”

  “You’re not being polite,” Evvie said. “And nowadays, they don’t even have finishing schools.”

  “A shame,” Aunt Grace said. “Perhaps at a finishing school, you might have learned some manners.”

  “I doubt it,” Evvie said. “How are you feeling these days?”

  “Very well, thank you,” Aunt Grace replied. “It should be many years before my will is read.”

  Evvie laughed. “I’ll tell Nicky not to wait, then,” she said. “But try to give us two weeks’ notice.”

  “I see your affiliation with that Steinmetz boy has done nothing to improve you,” Aunt Grace said. “And you, Claire. What do you think about all this?”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling well,” Claire replied. “And I hope I’ll be in your will.”

  Thea stared in horror, but after a long terrible moment, Aunt Grace laughed. “An honest answer,” she said. “Perhaps you’re not completely your father’s daughter, after all. And how is Sybil?”

  “She’s at another rehab center,” Evvie said. “They’re running more tests.”

  “There’s a foolish business,” Aunt Grace said. “I’d gladly pay for treatment if I could be sure that Nick wouldn’t find some way to embezzle the money and use it for his own purposes.”

  “That’s totally unfair,” Thea said. “Nicky loves Sybil and he would never hurt her.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Aunt Grace said. “He refuses to accept any aid from me. Perhaps because he cannot abide my terms. I don’t know why the man should expect to be trusted when his life is a lie and he corrupts the very souls of all he claims he loves.”

  “You are feeling well,” Evvie said. “I haven’t heard you this nasty in months.”

  “Having all of you beside me brings it out in me,” Aunt Grace replied. “Especially you, Claire. One would never know you were in any part a Winslow.”

  “An accident of genes,” Claire said.

  “Claire’s lucky to look like Nicky,” Thea said. “Nicky is so handsome.”

  “And you are so foolish,” Aunt Grace said.

  Thea looked as if she was going to start crying. Evvie looked fairly pained herself. Only Claire and, presumably, Aunt Grace were enjoying themselves.

  The largest cat Claire had ever seen strolled into the parlor. He stretched out languorously, and nestled on top of Aunt Grace’s feet.

  “Shoo,” Aunt Grace said, waving helplessly at the cat with her cane. “Get off me, you terrible animal.”

  Evvie laughed. Trouble, the cat, looked up at Grace, purred, and rested his head against her left ankle.

  “Stop laughing,” Aunt Grace said. “It’s bad enough you and that Steinmetz boy are still together. Did this damn fool cat have to live as well?”

  “The way you feed him, he can’t last much longer,” Evvie said. “How many cans of cat food does he get a day?”

  “No cat of mine would eat cat food,” Aunt Grace declared. “Not even this one. He eats what I eat, and if he doesn’t like it, then he can simply go hungry, or catch a mouse, or take the train to Cambridge and ask that Steinmetz boy to feed him.”

  Evvie laughed even harder. “He seems to like what you eat,” she said. “He’s only four. Doesn’t he ever exercise?”

  “He gets exercise enough bothering me,” Aunt Grace replied. “Sleeping on my bed, clawing at my furniture. He ruined a Louis Quinze chair that’s been in the family since before the revolution.”

  “Which revolution?” Claire asked. “French or American?”

  “American,” Aunt Grace said. “And therefore French as well.” But she gave Claire a grudging look of admiration. Claire tried not to grin.

  Trouble swatted lazily in the vicinity of Aunt Grace’s big toe. She kicked him and he purred some more.

  “The cat thrives on abuse,” Aunt Grace said. “Not unlike Margaret.”

  “That does it,” Thea said. “I didn’t come here to hear my parents insulted.”

  “I was not insulting your mother,” Aunt Grace declared. “I wasn’t even insulting your father. I was simply speaking the truth.”

  “Evvie, can’
t we go now?” Thea pleaded. “How long do we have to stay and listen to this?”

  “Aunt Grace,” Evvie said. “You know you don’t want to chase us out like this. You know you like seeing us. You’re always complaining to Clark that I don’t visit you often enough, and this time I brought Thea and Claire as well.”

  “I don’t care for your visits,” Aunt Grace replied. “It’s that Steinmetz boy I enjoy seeing. He brings me things: books, and flowers, even this cat. He’s wooing me. It isn’t that I care for him particularly, but I like the things he brings me.”

  “I brought you Thea and Claire,” Evvie said. “The two together are almost as good as Trouble.”

  “You overestimate them,” Aunt Grace said. “I’ve had my look. I see Thea is still as pretty as she ever was, and every bit as foolish.”

  “I am not foolish,” Thea said.

  Aunt Grace raised her eyebrows scornfully. “And this one,” she said, gesturing toward Claire. “She might have some intelligence, I suppose, but it doesn’t matter, encased in her appearance.”

  “I think you’re right,” Claire said. “At least that’s what I’ve always assumed about myself.”

  “Claire!” Thea said. “You’re more than just a pretty face.”

  “I know,” Claire said. “You’re a pretty face. I’m a beautiful one.”

  “That does it,” Thea said. “Evvie, I’m leaving. I do not need stereophonic insults.”

  Evvie nodded. “Aunt Grace, I’m sure you’ll understand if we go now,” she said. “Before we start challenging each other to duels.”

  “You have no inner strength,” Aunt Grace declared. “There’s weakness inside you. It comes from your father.”

  “Fine,” Evvie said. “Come on, Claire, we’re leaving.”

  “I think I’ll stay a while longer,” Claire said. “You two go now. I’ll meet you back at the apartment.”

  “What are you talking about?” Thea asked. “Why do you want to stay here?”

  “I like Aunt Grace,” Claire replied. “And she can abuse Nicky to her heart’s content as far as I’m concerned. I’ll get home somehow. Maybe Aunt Grace’s chauffeur can drive me.”