Remembrance Page 0,67

a surprise.”

His mother's voice was glacial. “I assume she's pregnant.”

Slowly Brad was beginning to burn. Nothing ever changed. No matter how old they got, she still treated them the same way. Like naughty, demented little puppets. It was what had driven him away years before. He always kind of forgot that part of it and he was realizing that things were no different now.

“No, you're mistaken.” For Serena's sake he went on as though all were well. “Her name is Serena, and she's blond and very beautiful.” He felt faintly crazy as he said it all, and all he wanted was to get off the phone. “And we're very happy.”

“How enchanting.” His mother's words shot into the phone like bullets. “Do you expect me to applaud? Is it possible that this is the girl Pattie told me about in November?” His mother's tone would have cracked marble. “I believe she mentioned that the girl was a maid in the place where you lived. Or is this someone else?” By what right do you ask, damn you, he wanted to shout at her, but he controlled himself as best he could and attempted not to fly into a rage.

“I don't think that's something I want to discuss with you now. I think when Pattie was in Rome she saw things with jaundiced eyes—”

“Why?” His mother cut him off. “Because she broke off the engagement?”

“Is that what she told you?”

“Isn't that what happened?”

“Not exactly. I told her that things had changed and I wanted to call off the engagement.”

“Not by the account I heard.” Margaret Fullerton did not sound as though she believed her son. “Pattie said that you were having an affair with your scrub girl, and when she caught you at it, she gave back the ring and came home.”

“It's a nice tight little story, Mother. The only trouble is that it's not true. The only thing true about it”—he realized that it made sense to admit at least that much to his mother, in case she heard something later on—”is that Serena was working at the palazzo. Her parents owned it before the war. But her father was among the aristocracy against Mussolini, and both of her parents were killed early on in the war. It's a long story and I won't give you all the details now. She's a principessa by birth and spent the war at a convent in the States, and when she returned to Italy last summer, she found that the rest of her family had died, she had no one and nothing left, so she went back to the palazzo to see it, and was taken in by one of the maids. She's had a grim time of it, Mother.” He smiled at Serena. “But that's all over now.”

“How charming. A little match girl. A war bride.” Her tone was venomous. “My dear boy, do you have any idea how many nobodies are wandering around Europe now pretending that they were once princes and counts and dukes? My God, they're even doing it over here. There's a waiter in your father's club who claims that he's a Russian prince. Perhaps,” his mother suggested sweetly, “you'd like to introduce your bride to him. I'm sure he'd be a much more suitable companion for her than you are.”

“That's a rotten thing to say.” His eyes flayed. “I called to tell you the news. That's all. I think we've said enough for now.” Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Serena's eyes fill with tears. She knew what was happening and it tore at his heart. He wanted to make everything right for his wife and he didn't give a damn what his mother said. “Good-bye, Mother. I'll speak to you again soon.”

His mother offered no congratulations. “Before you go, you might like to know that your brother Gregory just got engaged.”

“Really? To whom?” But he didn't really care now. He was too incensed about his mother's behavior and her reaction to the news of his marriage to Serena. Only one thing struck him odd before she told him, and that was that Ted hadn't said a word about Greg.

“He got engaged to Partie.” She said it with pleasure, almost with glee.

“Atherton?” B.J. was stunned.

“Yes, Pattie Atherton. I didn't write to you because I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to cause you unnecessary pain.” Bullshit. She wanted to maximize the shock. B.J. knew his mother better than that. “She began seeing him almost

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