03 The Long Road Home (15 page)

Beneath their polished, immaculately turned out exteriors, both sisters were warm and friendly.  Just like Matt.  Somehow it didn't do much to ease Margaret's tension.  All around her were signs of wealth and breeding that went back several generations and separated her from them like a deep chasm.

Shown to an enormous bedroom, Margaret stared at her reflection in the mirror, and then leaned closer.  Her hair seemed more lank today and five freckles seemed to have made their appearance since this morning.  Margaret sighed.  The three nights she was to spend here seemed to stretch ahead of her endlessly.  No matter what she did, she would never fit in, let alone prove anything to Matt.

Margaret lifted her chin.  Two parts nervousness, one part pride fueled her.  She was going to get through this visit as best she could.  In Inchwater, she would have plenty of time to grieve over her lost dreams of a future with Matt.

When Margaret rejoined Matt's sisters in the living room, Hook entered to announce lunch would be served in a few minutes.

"Where is Matt?" asked Susan.

"His car's not out front," said Patricia.  "He must have some business to take care of."

"It's always business with him.  I hope we're going to see a bit more of him than we usually do," grumbled Susan. 

The sound of the doorbell made her face brighten, and she turned toward the door as Matt walked in, holding a smiling little girl by the hand.

This had to be Melissa Ann, Margaret thought, as Susan hurled herself into her brother's arms for a hug and a kiss, to be followed by Patricia.  There was no doubting the affection the trio shared.  An arm around each of them, Matt smiled at his sisters and Margaret swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Mommy, I'm here too," said Melissa Ann.

"So I see," said Susan, picking her daughter up and giving her a kiss.  "Who invited you?"

"Uncle Matt told Mrs. Dolby I could come to lunch," Melissa Ann announced importantly.  "He said it would be more fun with me here."

As their gazes met, Margaret wondered if Matt had guessed her earlier tension.  It was easier with Melissa Ann around.  The child was an ice-breaker and kept the conversation rolling with her questions. 

"I'm caught up with arrangements for the gala for the rest of the day," said Patricia over lunch.  "But please make yourself at home and ask Hook for anything you need.  He will take you wherever you want to go.  He knows the best places for sightseeing, shopping, and eating."

"I have to get a dress for the ball," said Margaret.

The sisters exchanged a look, and then Patricia said quickly.  "It's going to be a masked ball and we're all going to wear costumes from Shakespeare's period."

There was a moment's silence before Matt said with a frown, "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"

Susan looked guilty.  "Trish and I thought you might not show up for it, if we told you Matt.  You know how fussy you get about dressing up."

The sisters exchanged another quick look and then Susan turned to Margaret, "Haggerty's in downtown L.A. has the best costumes for rent.  Patricia and I picked out a few extra costumes when we got ours, and asked Poco Haggerty the owner of the store to hold them for us.  Hook will take you there after lunch."

"Can I wear a costume too?" asked Melissa Ann anxiously.

"Yes," said Susan.  "After your nap, you can put on your fairy costume."

"I'm a good fairy," the little girl informed them.  "When Daddy comes home, I'm going to change him into a frog.  Then, when Mommy kisses him, he's going to change back into a prince.  My Mommy likes kissing my Daddy."

Everyone laughed, while Susan blushed.

"Margaret, do you like kissing Uncle Matt?" asked Melissa Ann looking directly at her.

Margaret's face flamed, while three adults sprang into action around the table.

"Come see the new fish in the pond," said Hook, who was removing their plates.

"I'll get dessert," Patricia was on her feet, and out of the room.

"It's time for your nap," said Susan in a firm tone.  "Now."

Melissa Ann's chin wobbled for a minute before she turned to her uncle quickly and said, "Uncle Matt will you read to me before I take my nap?"

"Of course," said Matt. 

"And can I ride on your shoulders all the way home?"

"Yes," Matt stood up and reached for his niece.  "Let's go now."  Looking at Margaret, he said, "Excuse me.  I'll see you tonight at Susan's."

"I'm sorry," Susan apologized as she made to follow her brother and her daughter.  "I never know what she's going to say next."

""Don't worry.  I'm used to children," said Margaret. 

After lunch, Hook drove her to Haggerty's.  Margaret looked around in awe.  Hundreds of costumes lined the walls of a large showroom.  Salespeople glided across the floor as if the soles of their formal shoes were oiled.  Hook came in with her and handed the girl at the front desk, Patricia's card. 

"Please sit down," said the receptionist, rising quickly when she saw the name on the card.  "Mr. Haggerty has been expecting you."

A few minutes later Haggerty came out to meet them.  Margaret had a hard time not letting her mouth fall open as she took in the greased ponytail, the inch long false eyelashes, and the powder on the man's face.

"Miss Browning.  Charmed."  He extended a limp hand for her to shake.  "Come into my private salon, please.  Any friend of Trish and Susan's is a friend of mine."

Margaret followed him feeling like Alice in Wonderland.

"These are the four costumes Trish asked me to keep for you," said Haggerty as they were brought in by an assistant.  "After you make your selection, we can pick out the accessories."

Margaret looked at the rich, heavy dresses with their enormous skirts and matching wigs and made no move to touch them.  She couldn't see herself in any of them and she wasn't about to wear one simply to fit in with the crowd.  Thinking of the theme of the ball gave her an idea.

Haggerty turned to Margaret, one penciled eyebrow raised.  "And which would you like to try on first?"

"I've decided to make my own costume," Margaret said quickly.  "These are too elaborate for me."

Haggerty looked insulted.  It was apparent she had slipped several hundred notches in his estimation. 

"I see," he said with a sniff.  "If you'll excuse me..." 

He floated away, and Margaret made her way to the door. 

"You didn't find anything you liked, Miss?" asked Hook opening the car door for her when she walked out of the store.

"I've decided to make my own costume.  Do you know if there's a fabric store nearby?"

She expected condescension from him as well, but Hook's expression didn't change.  "There's one four blocks from here.  Unless I'm mistaken there's a sewing machine in storage that might help you."

"Is there?" said Margaret.  Though the design she had in mind was very simple and she had a day and a half to make her dress, a machine would simplify her task.  "If it's not too much trouble to get it out, I'd like the use of it."

It would beat sewing by hand any day.

"No trouble at all, Miss."

Encouraged by Hook's manner, Margaret said, "Have you been with the Magnums a long time?"

"Ever since Matthew was born, Miss.  I watched him grow up.  Life wasn't easy for him or the others then and I don't think it is easy for them now to bury that part of their lives.  They all have a great capacity for giving love.  Believing they can receive it in return is very hard for them.  The Colonel almost lost Susan by giving up too soon." 

Margaret wondered if this was Hook's way of telling her if she loved Matt she would need patience and tenacity.

They stopped at a fabric store, and Margaret selected material and sewing aids.  Back at Trish's house Margaret shut herself in her room and spread the fabric on the bed.  Cutting without a pattern, she would have to be very careful not to ruin the heap of gauzy material.

Margaret wondered where Matt was.  She could imagine him holding his niece, her curly head resting against her chest as he read to her.  She had seen the warmth in his eyes as he looked at his sisters, but his manner to her had definitely changed.  Convincing him of anything was not going to be easy.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Patricia returned at four.  As they sat on the deck sipping iced tea, she asked Margaret about the Edward Institute.  Talking about her work and the children, Margaret found herself relaxing.

"Dr. Edwards called me a week ago, to thank me for the offer," Patricia said.  "He said he doesn't want me to plan anything yet unless he knows for sure if someone will run it as he wants it run.  He sounded very serious.  The kind of people I usually work with want to know how much I can raise for them and how soon."

Margaret thought of the quiet, gentle doctor whose work was his whole life.  "The children come first with Dr. Edwards," Margaret told Patricia, "and he won’t settle for anything but the best for them." 

Patricia's questions revealed a genuine interest in the Institute, and Margaret told her about the children and the work Dr Edwards did with them.

They left for Susan's place at six.  Margaret found it easy to relax with Melissa Ann showing her all her toys, and Pete, Susan's husband, talking about life in the army.  There was nothing in anyone's manner to make her uncomfortable, but Margaret was nervous.  Matt and his sisters stood leaning against the deck rail, chatting and she wondered what he would think of the dress she was making for the ball.

He loved the way Margaret's face lit up as she smiled over something Pete said.  Matt looked away to find both his sisters watching him.

"You love her, don't you?" said Susan quietly.  It was more statement than question. 

"Yes."

"It shows when you look at her," Trish added. 

They saw Pete move toward the barbecue and Susan said, "I'm going to show Margaret the house and garden while Pete gets the barbecue going."

Matt couldn't fathom the look his sisters exchanged.  He and Trish watched Susan, Margaret and Melissa Ann go into the house.

"Are you going to marry Margaret?"

"What?" said Matt. 

Trish didn't flinch at his tone.  "I know you're the big brother, but can I tell you something?"

"Go ahead," said Matt resignedly.

"Our father didn't only leave us his money.  He left each of us with recollections of a past that cannot be erased."

"Yes."  Denying a fact never altered it.

"Whenever you find yourself attracted to someone, you back off.  I do the same.  Marriage scares us because we think of it as a battlefield that leaves indelible scars."

"Isn't it?"  Matt asked dryly. 

Trish shook her head.  "Susan has proved you get out of marriage what you put into it.  Dad's lifestyle isn't a measuring stick for our own lives.  Nothing can change the old memories, so it's best to leave them buried, build a new life over them." 

"It's easier said than done," said Matt. 

"We have to shed the burden of the past, Matt.  Every human being needs to be loved because it is the only emotion that signifies total acceptance of another.  My therapist explained Dad's behavior as the constant search for someone who would love him for himself.  She said we have to believe someone can love us for ourselves before any relationship can work.  Without that faith we don't stand a chance." 

"How long have you been seeing a therapist?" Matt asked.

"Since I lost the man I loved."

Matt turned to look at his sister.  He hadn't known about a love affair gone awry.  "When did this happen?" he asked.

Trish shrugged.  "Around the time you moved to Inchwater."

He could pinpoint the time now.  Returning after a two month stay in Inchwater, he had commented on how much weight Trish had lost.  She had told him it was the new fashion trend.  That visit she had seemed busier than ever.

Trish sat down next to him.  "Therapy helped me see quite a few things clearly.  All three of us share the same vulnerability, the need to be accepted.  It is one reason all three of us are so involved in charity work, but that's no substitute for a permanent warm, loving relationship with the right person."

Matt said nothing, and, after a while, Trish said, "Susan and I want you to know one more thing."

"What is it?"

"Three months ago I met Alice Huntley.  Do you remember her?"

"Yes."  She had been their father's third wife.  Or was it his fourth?

"Strange as it may seem, Alice and I have become friends.  We have lunch together once a month.  She told me she left Dad because he was always trying to control everything she did.  Whom she met, where she shopped, little things that shouldn't have mattered.  Though outwardly he put on a big show of being the perfect husband, according to Alice, he was obsessed with having complete control of everything and everyone in his life.  She said all the fur coats and diamonds in the world weren't worth being manipulated as if she were a wind-up toy."

Matt frowned.  "Are you saying Dad drove the women in his life away?"

Trish nodded.  "Yes, just like he drove us away."

Matt thought about what Trish had told him as he helped his brother-in-law with the steaks.  It was too much to sort out all at once. 

After dinner, Matt turned to Margaret and said, "Let's go for a walk."

Margaret threw a startled glance around the redwood deck.  They couldn't possibly leave the minute the meal was over.  Patricia was discussing costumes with her brother-in-law.  Susan could be heard telling Melissa Ann she had fifteen minutes left before bedtime. 

"The others won't miss us."  Matt stood up and said, "I'm going to show Margaret around.  Thanks for the dinner, Sue and Pete."

Margaret echoed his thanks.  Feeling one part awkward, two parts self-conscious she followed Matt down the part.

From the side of Susan's house a path sloped down to the beach.  Halfway down on a promontory was a gazebo with wooden seats around the sides.  In the center, a heap of cushions rested on the floor.

"Shall we sit here?"  As Margaret sat on a cushion, Matt sat on the wooden step of the gazebo.

Margaret stared at the ocean.  The scents of night and the chirping of insects surrounded them.  If she turned her head, she could make out the lights of Los Angeles.  "What a beautiful spot," she said.

"It is, isn't it?"

Taken aback by the harsh note in his voice, Margaret kept quiet.  She had noticed the tension about him when she had complimented Susan on her home earlier.  What was wrong with appreciating something beautiful?

As Margaret looked at the waves glistening in the moonlight below, the pain she had sworn not to give in to surged up in her.  Matt must be comparing her to the women his father had known, thinking she was as impressed by the Magnum estate as they had once been.

Anger was a hot flame inside her as she said, "It was a mistake to bring me here, Matt."

"What do you mean?"  Matt ran a hand through his hair.  The gesture reminded her of Timmy, and convinced her Matt was deeply upset.

"I feel like a fish taken out of my nice safe bowl and tossed into the ocean.  Being here has proved to me we don't have anything in common.  I know now what that last missing link keeping us apart is.  It's the difference in our backgrounds."

"It is not," Matt ground out.  "It's the thought I might let you down, that I might not have what it takes to sustain a marriage."

"You're keeping your memories alive by feeding them with your fears," said Margaret, angrily.  "You think every woman is like the ones your father knew, that no woman can love you for yourself.  Are you going to let what happened to your father control the rest of your life?"

Matt stared at her.  "What do you mean?"

"You've got answers for everyone's problems, why don't you take a good look at your own?"  Margaret demanded.  "Susan and Patricia share the same memories you have, but I don't see them dwelling on them the way you do."

Margaret swallowed.  It was too late to stop now.  "You told me once we each place ourselves in personal cages, that Bedouin freed you from yours.  He did to a certain extent.  Only you can free yourself totally Matt."

He didn't say anything and Margaret stared out at the water through the tears that filled her eyes.  "No matter how much you have in the way of money and assets, Matt, you'll always be poor unless you can open yourself up to love.  I hope
someday you will get over your fear and trust someone enough to share your life with them."

Leaving the gazebo, Margaret climbed the path leading back to the house.  She heard Matt behind her but didn't turn around.  If she said anything more now, she wouldn't be able to regain control.  Matt followed her to Patricia's door, opened it for her, and then left without a word. 

Margaret went to her room, thankful Patricia was still at Susan's.  She didn't want to face anyone now.  She felt as if she had just lost something that mattered a great deal to her.  She was glad she had said what she had, though.  Matt had to face his past.  Only he could open the door of his personal cage and set himself free.

Matt stared at the rising tide from where he sat on the rock.  It swirled in like the eager flow of his bitter thoughts carrying him back into the past.  Picking up a stone, he flung it as far as he could into the water.  Like his efforts to break free of his memories, it was immediately lost. 

Margaret was right. 

He had to let go, but he wasn't sure he knew how to.  Every time he returned to the house, memories smothered him.  Some of his were like the ones Margaret had of her parents.  They could be taken out and shaken, to free them of the dust that clung to them.  Others were so deeply ingrained in the very fabric of his being Matt didn't know how to get rid of them.  There was no viewpoint that would alter them.

Matt picked up another stone, hurled it away from him.  He thought of everything Trish had told him, searching his heart and soul for answers.  It was a while before he rose and climbed up the hillside to his lonely house. 

Late the next evening, Matt rang the doorbell of Trish's house.  He ran a finger along his collar to ease the stiffness.  The carmine cloak of his costume billowed out behind him, and the crown on his head was awry.  Melissa Ann had told him he looked like Snow White's father, which did nothing to appease his mood.  He looked and felt silly.  Dressing up was for kids.

Patricia opened the door, and the smile on her face slipped a bit as she saw the crackle of irritation on his face.

"Come in.  The others are all here."

The sight of Pete, uneasy in his nobleman’s outfit, helped to ease Matt's mood a bit.  At least he wasn't going to suffer in solitude.  Exchanging a sympathetic smile with his brother-in-law, Matt looked at his sisters.  Susan was going as a tavern wench, Patricia as Portia, the young lawyer who had fought for her husband's innocence.

"Where's Margaret?" Matt asked. 

She had been on his mind all day.  He'd wanted to call her from work but he hadn't, because what he had to say had to be said in person.  He had to apologize for the way he had been lately and discuss his fears with her before he lost her.  The thought he had hurt Margaret disturbed him deeply and Matt had found it impossible to concentrate on work.  At an afternoon meeting, he had been called upon thrice, before he had been able to answer a question.

"Margaret will be here soon," Patricia said.  "She's making a last minute adjustment to her costume.  Wait till you see it."

"It's absolutely gorgeous," added Susan.

They heard the sound of a door opening and Margaret's footsteps.  She paused in the doorway of the living room, and her gaze flew to meet his.

Matt stared.  She wore a dress that floated dreamily about her in some soft material.  Knotted at her shoulders, the dress hung straight to the floor, the points of the hem barely sweeping the floor.  Her shoes seemed to be covered with the same material as her dress. 

The wonderful green color reminded Matt of shiny new leaves in spring.  As she moved he glimpsed the silky sheath she wore under the green chiffon.  Her hair hung down her back controlled by a coronet of crimson berries nestling amidst dark green leaves.  Her mouth returned his smile, but the distant look in her eyes didn't change.

"Titania, Queen of the Fairies," announced Susan.  "Margaret is going to be the belle of the ball."

"You look absolutely wonderful," Patricia added.

Matt followed them silently out to the limousine that was to take them to the ball.  There was something different about Margaret tonight.  A confidence he had never seen before was evident in the tilt of her head, in the way she moved.  She looked about to cast a spell on everyone she met.

Margaret felt a wonderful satisfaction as she stepped into the limousine.  The dazed look in Matt's eyes as he'd looked at her had made all the trouble she'd taken with her costume worthwhile.  She wasn't going to fight him on the decision he had made about marriage, but she was going to correct the impression he had of women.

Margaret watched the crowd swirl and separate as a live band supplied music.  She sat with Pete, Susan and another couple, at a table on the edge of the dance floor, noticing the costumes and the elaborate hairdo's that went with them. 

Margaret searched the dancers for a tall figure in a carmine cloak.  She had shared the first dance with Matt, not really sure why he had asked her to dance.  Other than hold her close, he hadn't talked to her at all.  Matt probably felt it was a token gesture his sisters would expect of him.  Convention satisfied, he had disappeared.