Danielle Steel - Remembrance

15

Two days later Serena awoke before her husband, and scampered quickly out of bed to find the two boxes she had concealed in her dressing room the night before. And as he looked at her, sleepy-eyed and happy, stretching lazily as she came toward him, he held out both arms.

“Come to me, my lovely wife.” She did so gladly, and held him for a moment, the presents still clutched in her hand.

“Merry Christmas, my darling.”

“Is it Christmas?” He feigned surprise and a lapse of memory as he pulled her back into bed beside him, her warm flesh smooth against his own. “Isn't it tomorrow?”

“Oh, shut up, you know it isn't!” She was giggling at him, remembering all of the wonderful gifts he had bought her. “Here, these are for you.”

This time his surprise was genuine. “When did you do that, Serena?” He had been so intent on his shopping for her that he hadn't noticed when she had purchased them at Cartier, while he bought her earrings. “You are a sneaky one, aren't you?”

“For a good cause. Go on, open them.”

He kissed her first, and then slowly unpacked the first present with an enervating lack of speed. He was teasing both her and himself and she laughed at him, until at last the wrapping fell away and the smooth silky beauty of the gold cigarette case lay in his hand.

“Serena! Baby, how could you?” He was shocked at the fortune she must have spent. He hadn't even known if she had that kind of money in her reserves. And he knew all too well that if she did he was now holding the last of it in his hand. But a gold cigarette case had always been, in Europe, a standard wedding gift for a young man, and an important one. It was the same wedding gift she would have bought him if her parents had been alive. The difference would have been, perhaps, sapphire initials, or an elaborate message engraved inside. And there might have been an additional gift of sapphire cuff links, or studs for his dinner jacket in black onyx with handsome diamonds sparkling inside. But Serena's gift of the simple gold case was both handsome and impressive and B.J. was touched beyond words as he leaned over to kiss his bride. “Darling, you're crazy!”

“About you.” She giggled happily and handed him the other gift, which he opened with equal delight.

“Good God, Serena, you spoiled me!” For a fraction of an instant the huge green eyes looked sad.

“I wish I could have spoiled you more. If—” But he took her in his arms before she went on.

“I wouldn't be happier than I am now. I couldn't be. You're the best present I've ever had.” And as he said it he disengaged himself slowly from her arms and hopped out of bed to go to his own chest of drawers in a far corner, as she watched him with interest.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe Santa Claus may have left something for you.” He looked over his naked shoulder with a broad grin.

“Are you crazy? After all the presents you bought me yesterday?”

But he was walking determinedly toward her, with a small silver-wrapped package in his hand. It had a narrow silver ribbon, and the box was intriguingly small as he extended it to her. “For you, darling.”

She shook her head with disapproval then. “I don't deserve more presents.”

“Yes, you deserve the best—you are the best. Got that?”

“Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute and her eyes grew enormous as she began to unwrap the present. Even the wrapping looked expensive, and the small black suede case looked more so, and when she opened it to reveal the shining black lining and what lay nestled on it, she could only gasp. Her hand trembled and she looked almost frightened as she saw it. “Oh, Brad!”

“Do you like it?” He took it quickly out of the box for her and reached for her trembling hand to put it on her. It was a flawless pink diamond, in an oval shape, surrounded by smaller white diamonds on a narrow gold band. The entire ring was of exquisite proportions and the color and brilliance of the ring were truly remarkable on her narrow, elegant hand.

“Oh, my God!” She was almost speechless as she stared at it. Even the size was right. “Oh, Brad!” Tears rapidly filled her eyes and he smiled at her, pleased that she was so obviously delighted.

“You deserve dozens like that, Serena. The Germans didn't leave much of that in Paris. When we get back to the States, we're going to buy what we can. Lovely things for you, pretty clothes, furs, lots of jewelry, hats, all the things that you'll enjoy. You'll be a princess—my princess—always.”

It seemed to Serena in the months that ensued that she merely passed her time all day wandering in the Bois de Boulogne, going to still-half-empty museums, looking aimlessly into shops, anxiously waiting for B.J. to come home at night. All she wanted was to see him, all that meant anything to her was her husband, and B.J. discovered in her a passion he had never even begun to suspect before. They spent hours together, lying side by side in their library, staring into the fire, talking and kissing and hugging and holding, and then racing each other upstairs like two kids. But they were far from being children once they got upstairs. Their lovemaking was expert and endless, as the winter drifted into the spring.

Brad was busy with his job, but there was far less to do now, the most pressing postwar problems had begun to be resolved, and the long-term ones wouldn't be completely taken care of for years. So what remained was a pleasant lull, a kind of easygoing limbo, in which he would actually daydream at his desk, meet his wife for lunch, go for long walks in the parks, and hurry home with her for another passionate adventure before returning to his desk.

“I can't go on meeting you like this.” He grinned at her sleepily one afternoon in May, as he lay in her arms, happy and spent.

“Why not? Do you think your wife will object?” Serena was grinning. And she looked more mature now than she had five months before when she had arrived in Paris on the train from Rome.

“My wife?” B.J. looked at her, her hair tousled. “Hell no, she's a sex maniac.” Serena laughed out loud. “Do you realize that I'm going to look sixty when I'm forty if we keep this up?” But he didn't look as though he minded, and Serena looked at him archly.

“Are you complaining, then?” But there was a strange gleam in her eye today, as though there were something she wasn't telling. He had thought that he noticed it when he first met her for lunch, but he had forgotten about it as they talked. Later he would press her about it. But first he had something to tell her. “Are you complaining, Colonel?”

“Not really. But I think you ought to know that I won't be able to do quite as much of this when we go back to the States.” His eyes were twinkling strangely and Serena cocked her head to one side.

“Is that true?”

He nodded but looked indecisive. “Well, Americans just don't behave like this, after all.”

“Don't they make love?” Serena looked mock-horrified, still with that wicked gleam in her eye.

“Never.”

“You're lying.”

“I am not.” He was grinning at her. “Hell, we can't go on making love like this when we go back. My lunch hours won't be as long.”

“Brad.” She suddenly looked at him strangely. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Yes.” He nodded with a grin.

“What?” But she already thought she knew.

“We're going home, princess.”

“To the States?” She looked stunned. She had known that it would come eventually, but she hadn't thought it would be so soon. “To New York?”