Danielle Steel - Fine things

“George. George Murphy. I'm married and I have seven children in the Bronx. Want to go to a hotel with me?”

The man next to them at the bar stared in fascination. The place was full of men looking for a quick lay, but most of them didn't talk about their wives and kids.

“Why don't we go home and make another one?” She suggested brightly.

“Great idea.”

He hailed a cab on Third Avenue that took them to Scarsdale by the quickest route, and they got home before his mother came home with Jane. His father was still at the hospital. It was nice being home alone with her. It was nice being anywhere with her, especially in bed, he decided as they slipped between cool sheets. He hated to get up again when his mother and Jane got home. And he hated even more leaving New York and going back to California again. But he had spoken to Paul about it again, to no avail.

“Come on, Paul. I've been there a year. Fourteen months in fact.”

“But the store's only been open for ten. And what's your hurry now? You have a lovely wife, a nice house, San Francisco is a good place for Jane.”

“We want to put her in school here.” But they wouldn't take her application, they'd discovered, unless it was definite that they were coming back. “We can't just hang in limbo out there for years.”

“Not years …but let's say just one more. There's just no one else as competent for the job.”

“All right.” He sighed. “But then, that's it. Is that a deal?”

“All right, all right …you'd think we'd left you in Armpit, West Virginia, for chrissake. San Francisco is hardly a hardship post.”

“I know. But this is where I belong, and you know it too.”

“I can't deny that, Bernard. But we need you out there right now too. We'll do our best to bring you back in a year.”

“I'm counting on it.”

He hated leaving New York when they did, but he admitted that getting back to San Francisco wasn't so terrible. Their little house was nicer than he remembered it, and the store looked good to him on his first day back. Not as good as the New York store did, but good just the same. The only thing he hated about being back was not being with Liz all day long, and he turned up in the cafeteria at her school at lunchtime their first day back to share a sandwich with her. He looked very citified and grown-up and elegant in a dark gray English suit, and she was wearing a plaid skirt and a red sweater they had bought together at Trois Quartiers, with shoes she'd bought in Italy, and she looked very pretty and young to him, and Jane was very proud to see him there.

“That's my daddy over there, with my mom.” She pointed him out to several friends and then went to stand next to him, to show that he belonged to her.

“Hi there, short stuff,” he said, tossing her up in the air, and then doing the same to three of her friends. He was a big hit in the cafeteria, and Tracy came over to say hello to him. She gave him a big hug and announced that her daughter was pregnant again. And he saw the hungry look in Liz' eyes and squeezed her hand. She was beginning to worry that something was wrong with her, and he had suggested that maybe it was he, since she had had a child before. And they had finally both decided to relax about it for a while, and they were trying to, but it still came to mind a lot. They both desperately wanted a baby.

And in June he had a surprise for her. He had rented a house in Stinson Beach for two months, and she was thrilled. It was the perfect place for them. A bedroom for them, one for Jane, a guest room for friends, a huge spacious living room with a dining area, a sunny kitchen, and a sheltered deck where they could even sunbathe nude if they wanted to, not that they would have if Jane were at home. It was perfect for them, and Liz couldn't have been happier. They decided to move there for the two months, and he would commute every day. But they had scarcely been there for two weeks, when Liz came down with the flu, and it took her weeks to get over it. He mentioned it to his father when he called, and Lou thought it was probably her sinuses and she should see someone about starting antibiotics right away. Her head felt heavy all the time and she was nauseous at the end of the day. She was exhausted and depressed and she couldn't remember ever feeling that terrible. It was a little better the second month they were there, but not much, and she hardly enjoyed the place, although Jane was having a ball with all her friends, and she ran on the beach with Bernie every night, but Liz could hardly walk down the street without feeling sick. She didn't even feel up to going into town to try on her dress for the opening of the opera. She had selected a slinky black satin Galanos that year, with one shoulder and a ruffled cape of its own, and she was shocked when she finally tried it on right after Labor Day.

“What size is this?” She was stunned. She was generally a six, but she couldn't even close the dress they had sent her. She looked amazed as the salesgirl glanced at the tag and looked up at her.

“It's an eight, Mrs. Fine.”

“How's it look?” He poked his head in the door and she glared at him.

“Terrible.” She couldn't have gained weight. She'd been sick since July. She'd finally made an appointment to see the doctor the next day. She had to start school in a week and she needed her energy back. She was even ready to take the antibiotics her father-in-law thought she should try. “They must have sent the wrong size. It has to be a four. I just don't understand it.” She had tried the sample on when she ordered it, and it had swum on her. And that had been a six, and this was larger than that was.

“Did you gain weight at the beach?” He came into the fitting room to look. And she was right. The zipper wouldn't come near to closing at her waist and down the side. There were a good three or four inches of her suntanned flesh separating it. He glanced at the fitter standing by quietly. “Can it be let out?” He knew how expensive the dress was and it was a sacrilege to alter it very much. It was better to order it in another size and let that one go, except that now they didn't have time. She'd have to wear something else to the opening if it couldn't be let out. The fitter took a look and shook her head, and then felt Liz' waist and glanced at her questioningly.

“Madame has gained weight at the beach this summer?” She was French and Bernie had brought her from New York. She had worked for Wolffs for years, and Patou before that.

“I don't know, Marguerite.” She had worked with Liz before, on her wedding dress and last year's opera gown, and other things she had bought. “I didn't think I had.” But all she'd been wearing were loose old clothes, jogging suits, sweatshirts, baggy old shirts, and she had even worn a shapeless cotton dress into the store, and suddenly she looked at Bernie and grinned at him. “Oh my God.”

“You okay?” He looked worried, but she was smiling at him. Her face had gone white, and now it was bright pink, and she started to laugh at him. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him and he smiled, as the salesgirl and fitter discreetly disappeared from the fitting room. They liked working with her. She was always so pleasant to them, and they were so much in love. It was nice to be around people like them. “What's up, Liz?” He looked puzzled as he glanced at her, she was still smiling blissfully, in spite of the lost dress, or because of it.

“I don't think I'll take those antibiotics after all.”

“Why not?”

“I think he's wrong.”

“A lot you know.” He smiled at her.

“You can say that again.” She had missed all the signs. Every one of them. “I don't think this is a sinus infection after all.” She sat down on a chair and looked up at him with a broad grin and suddenly he understood. He stared at the dress and then back at her, amazed.