Danielle Steel - Fine things

“Where is she?”

“Liz didn't come. I thought I'd get you settled at your hotel first, and then she'll meet us for dinner.” It was four o'clock, and it would be five before they got to the hotel. He had told Liz to meet them at the bar at six, and their dinner reservation was for seven o'clock, which would be ten o'clock for them. With the time change, they would be tired that night, and there was a lot going on the next day. The ceremony at Temple Emanuel, the luncheon at the Alta Mira Hotel, and then their flight to Hawaii …and his parents' flight to Acapulco.

“Why didn't she come?” His mother looked prepared to be annoyed, and Bernie smiled, hoping to head her off at the pass. She never changed, but somehow he always thought that she might. It was as though he had expected someone else to get off the plane with his father.

“We've had so much to do, Mom. With the new house and everything …”

“She couldn't come to meet her mother-in-law?”

“She's meeting us at the hotel.”

His mother smiled at him bravely, and then tucked her hand into his arm as they walked to the baggage claim. But she seemed in fairly good spirits for once. There were no reports of neighbors who had died, relatives getting divorced, products that had gone amuck and killed dozens of innocent people. And she didn't even complain when one of her suitcases almost didn't turn up. It was the last one off the plane, and Bernie grabbed it with a sigh of relief and then went to get the car to drive them into town. He chatted about the wedding plans all the way in, and his mother loved the dress she had picked out at Wolffs a few weeks before. She said it was light green and it suited her very well, but she wouldn't tell him more than that. And then he chatted with his father for a little while, and they arrived at the hotel and he dropped them off and promised to return in an hour.

“I'll be back in a little while,” he assured them, like children he was leaving somewhere, and he hopped in his car and went home again, to shower and change himself and pick Liz up. She was still in the shower when he got in, and Jane was in her room, playing with a new doll. But she was looking wistful these days and he wondered if the new house was bothering her. She had spent the previous night with them, and he had promised Liz it wouldn't happen again.

“Hi, there…. How's your friend?” He stopped in the door of her room and looked down at her. And she looked up at him with a small wintry smile as he walked into the room and sat down next to her. And then suddenly she laughed at him.

“You look just like Goldilocks.” She giggled and he grinned.

“With a beard? What kind of books do you read?”

“I mean 'cause you're too big for the chair.” He was sitting on one of her little chairs.

“Oh.” He put an arm around her. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“What does that mean? You worried about the monster under the bed again? We can check it out, if you like. But there's nothing there, you know.”

“I know that.” She looked at him haughtily as though she could never have said such a thing. Only babies did that. Or kids who wanted to spend the night in their mothers' beds.

“Then what's up?”

She looked him squarely in the eye. “You're taking my mom away …and for such a long time …” There were suddenly tears in her eyes and she looked bereft as she looked at him. And he was overwhelmed with guilt at the pain he had caused her.

“It's …well, it's our honeymoon …and Aunt Tracy will take good care of you.” But he didn't sound convinced and Jane looked positively morbid.

“I don't want to stay with her.”

“Why not?”

“She makes me eat vegetables.”

“What if I tell her not to?”

“She will anyway. That's all she eats. She says dead animals are bad for you.”

He winced, thinking of the dead animals he was about to eat at L'Etoile, and had been looking forward to. “I wouldn't put it quite like that.”

“She never lets me eat hot dogs or hamburgers or any of the good stuff I like …” Her voice trailed off miserably.

“What if I told her she had to let you eat what you want?”

“What's this all about?” Liz was standing in the doorway, wrapped in a towel, looking down at them, her blond hair cascading over her damp shoulders, as Bernie looked up at her with passion.

“We were just discussing something.” They both looked guilty when they looked at her.

“Are you still hungry, Jane? There are some apples and bananas in the kitchen.” Liz had already given her dinner, and a huge dessert.

“No, I'm okay” She looked wistful again and Liz beckoned to him.

“We're going to be late if you don't hurry up. She's okay, sweetheart.” But once the bathroom door was closed, he whispered to her.

“She's upset that we're going away for three weeks.”

“Did she tell you that?” Liz looked surprised as he nodded at her. “She hasn't said anything to me.” And then she smiled at him. “I think she's figured out that you're a softie.” She slid her arms around his neck with a smile. “And she's right.” The towel fell and he groaned as he felt her body against his.

“If you do that, I'll never get dressed.” He slowly took off his clothes, intending to get into the shower, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and his interest was obvious as he stood naked in front of her. She fondled him with lingering caresses, and he pressed her against the stack of towels next to the sink, and moments later he was kissing her and she was stroking him. He reached over and locked the door and turned the water on, and the bathroom filled with steam as they made love, and she had to fight not to scream, as she always did when she made love with him. It had never been like that for her before, but it was now, and they both looked pleased afterwards, as he stepped into the shower with a boyish grin. “That was nice…. First course … or hors d'oeu-vres?”

She looked at him mischievously. “Wait till you get dessert tonight…” He turned the shower on and sang to himself as he lathered up, and she stepped into it with him, and he was tempted to start all over again, but they had to get ready in a hurry. He didn't want to be late, or his mother would be annoyed when she met Liz, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

They kissed Jane good night, told the babysitter where everything was, and hurried out to the car. Liz was wearing a dress Bernie had bought for her, a pretty gray flannel with a white satin collar, and she wore it with a rope of pearls he had picked up at Chanel for her, and gray flannel Chanel shoes with black satin toes, and her huge engagement ring, her golden hair swept up, her makeup faint but impeccable, and pearl and diamond earrings on her ears. She looked alluring and demure and very beautiful and he could see that his mother was impressed when they met her in the hotel lobby. She looked at Liz searchingly, as though wanting to find something wrong, but as they walked downstairs to the bar, and Liz took his father's arm, she whispered to her son.

“She's a nice-looking girl.” From her, that was high praise.

“Bullshit,” he whispered back. “She's gorgeous.”

“She has nice hair,” his mother conceded. “Is it natural?”

“Of course,” he whispered back again, as they took a table and they ordered drinks. His parents ordered their usual, and he and Liz each ordered a glass of white wine, and he knew she wouldn't take more than a few sips of hers before they went into the other room for dinner.

“So.” Ruth Fine looked at her, as though she was going to pronounce sentence or tell her something terrible. “How did you two meet?”