Рита Браун - Scarlet Fever

“Betty, why? The brothers told him to clean out the junk; their words, according to Harry. If that’s what they thought, how can they come back later weeping and wailing? His exact word, junk. ”

“That may be so but no one likes their ignorance made plain, do they?” Betty touched on human vanity. “And then again, Harry was in a business where a four hundred percent markup isn’t unusual. I’m not saying antiques dealers are crooks but they can slap on whatever price the market will bear.” She paused. “I guess that applies to anyone.”

“Art galleries are worse. Dulcie and I tread carefully.”

“You have such extraordinary work, but you and your wife specialized.”

Dulcie beamed. “We love sporting art, most especially of dogs. When we started collecting it was such a tiny group of people and the work was pooh-poohed by the modern art set. We got hooked. There’s a world of talent in those paintings, as well as emotion.”

As if on cue, a magnificent Gordon setter padded into the room to stand by Dulcie.

Her hand dropped to its well-proportioned head. “Living art.”

Gray smiled. “Sister feels the same way about her hounds.”

Sister inclined her head, saying to Dulcie, “Don’t we all love our animals and think they are the best?”

Dulcie nodded then asked, “Did you buy that Louis XV desk? Oh, Sister, those inlaid flowers, that marquetry. Really divine.”

“How did you know about that?” Sister noted Gray’s slight intake of breath.

“Oh, you know Harry. He called me down to look on his big computer at the American Kennel Club gallery museum. He said if I ever or we ever wanted to sell any of our collection there was a growing market. He knows the AKC director; of course, Harry knows, or knew, everybody. I can’t get used to putting him in the past tense.”

“None of us can, honey.” Chalmers put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“Fate? His time? I don’t know. But I do know as I grow older these goodbyes do not get easier. If anything they cut deeper,” Sister replied.

“The human condition.” Gray reached for her hand even as he wondered about the desk.

As the foxhunters left with thank-yous, Gray lingered to talk to Chalmers about a D.C. legal firm they both knew; Sister, outside, took Betty by the elbow, vigorously propelling her toward Betty’s trailer. “What is the matter with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Harry was not a cheat. The Taylors got what was coming to them.”

“He was hardly a saint.”

“Well, who the hell is?” Sister’s eyebrows raised.

“I believe he did take advantage of people. And maybe the Taylors had it coming, given their social pretensions, but still. He could take advantage of people.”

“Only if he disliked them.”

Betty had to smile. “There is that. I always thought we should have bought Drew’s mother a tiara, the queen of western Albemarle County.”

They both laughed as they reached the truck cab. Gray had walked out of the house.

Sister, under her breath, “Do not say a word, one word, about the Louis XV desk.”

“I didn’t know anything about it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Betty, I’m suffering the tortures of the damned over it. I was working up my nerve. I can’t throw money around like that.”

Hand on the door handle, Betty, voice low, “How much?”

“Starting at twenty thousand. I might have whittled it down. But still.”

“A lot. Then again, you have never gotten over your uncle’s desk being stolen. I don’t know. I can’t hardly pay the damn electric bill for the shop and then the house. Gets higher and higher every winter. But if I had the money, you know what, I’d buy whatever I damn well wanted.” She opened the door, climbing into the cab. “I’ll drop off Magellan. Outlaw had a fit this morning when I tacked up his pasture mate instead of him. Spoiled brat.”

“He’s a great horse.”

Betty smiled, ear to ear. “He is. I’m spoiled, too. Hey, I’ll clean tack tomorrow. I’ve got to run to the shop because clients are coming in for wedding invitations. Mother of the bride and bride are not in agreement. I can’t stick Bobby with two warring women.”

“Wise. I’m glad to hear true invitations are coming back. You said business was picking up.”

“Thank God. Nothing looks as good as a beautiful piece of paper, exactly the right color with exactly the right font and ink color cut into the paper. None of this computer or thermographed stuff. It’s cheap and it looks cheap. For the great moments in life you need correct invitations.”

“That’s why you and Bobby do the hunt ball invitations. Okay, see you tomorrow.”

Sister opened the door to her dually, ten years old and in great condition because she fanatically took care of it.

Betty drove off in front as Gray fired up the engine. “Louis XV.”

“Well, I didn’t buy it so I saw no point in bringing it up.” What a fibber she was right then.

“Janie.”

She shifted her weight in the comfortable seat. “All right. I would have told you but I can’t buy it.”

“Is it as beautiful as Dulcie said?”

“Ravishing.”

“Ah.”

They rode in silence, the farm was at the most now twenty minutes away hauling horses, going the speed limit.

“Honey, it is your money.”

“And you are an accountant.” She smiled at him because she knew it took a lot for him not to make a judgment. “I often wonder why it is that the two men in my life were and are money men. My father was good with money, as well.”

Gray, eyes on the road, thought about this. “Well, when you deal with money you see how easy it is to lose it. Ray,” he named Sister’s husband, who died in 1991, “could make money. He was a stockbroker. He had a kind of aggressiveness about money that I don’t have. I’m not a risk taker, not with money, anyway. I’m not cheap, at least I don’t think I am. But I’m careful. Sam is careful, since he cleaned up his life. Mercer was more than careful. Mercer was shrewd, but Aunt Daniella? Now, there’s a gambler at heart.”

They laughed, for Aunt Daniella proved fearless in all respects.

“What I think is funny is that both the men in my life were, are very masculine.”

“Toxic?” He turned slightly toward her.

“I try to avoid those ever-evolving ideologies,” Sister answered. “For whatever reason I am attracted to manly men. Broad shoulders. Little hips. Hard muscles. Strong faces. Big egos. Well, enough ego to succeed. I mean, Gray, does anyone get anything done without an ego? I have one. I’m better at hiding it.”

“You’re a woman. You’re better at a lot of things. But are you smart to hide your ego? You are.”

“Those heated replies from young women about how the qualities that make a man successful are derided in a woman, how a man can be called driven, while the woman is a bitch. That sort of thing. It’s true but it’s changing.”

“It’s changing, honey, because men can’t get the job done anymore. In truth, I don’t know if anyone can. But back to men and women. You do look good, sugar; oh, you do look good and you affect me. I’d be a liar if I said you would have the same impact if,” he paused, “you had not been blessed by nature. We are animals, after all.”

“You sweet thing.” She smiled. “Yes, we are animals. In some ways that’s as it should be. In other ways, a difficulty. But then again, we are of a certain age. For my generation a man needed a ‘can do’ attitude. He needed to carry the weight willingly in his way and we needed to carry it in ours. Of course, it is different now but I’m no different.”

“For which I am grateful. We’re supposed to change with the times but some changes…” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”