up like a peach or something. The only time I saw them kiss each other was on their anniversary, and it was as mechanical as could be. Now, with him being an invalid, they are unable to do anything together again. Sometimes, I get the feeling they had separate bedrooms on their honeymoon, and it wasn’t to make it more romantic, either.
“Elizabeth always said he snored so loudly that he woke the dead, but don’t you worry. You’ll have privacy. In fact, you’ll love Wyndemere. Wait until you see the grounds. There are more than fifteen acres, and the lake is five miles long. We have rowboats and motorboats. It’s always been too cold for me, but my husband swims in it.
“The dining room seats twenty, although we haven’t had a dinner like that since my father-in-law became a severe diabetic. He has a full-time nurse caring for him now. That doesn’t slow down my mother-in-law, however. Elizabeth Davenport attends one charity event after another and always seems to have a lunch date. She still has dinner parties, too. Sometimes I avoid them, claim I have a headache or something, especially when I know the doctor won’t be there because of some medical thing or another. No one would bother saying much to me. I don’t move in her circles.”
She leaned over to whisper again.
“She thinks she looks fifty at most. She’s seventy-four but has had so much plastic surgery she’s practically opaque. Her true self is buried under surgery. I know she can’t close her eyes fully anymore and has to sleep with blinders. But don’t give her a second thought. She won’t even notice you’re in the house. She won’t look at anyone who’s worth less than three or four million. I ‘yes’ her to death.
“Frankly, to disagree with her only prolongs the conversation, and she’ll always find something wrong with something I’m doing, whether it’s the shade of my shoes with a certain dress or the way I sit. Any other daughter-in-law would explode, but I look at the doctor and see the amusement in his eyes and think to myself, Samantha, just pretend she’s one of the ghosts she swears she’s heard walking the corridors.”
“Do you always call your husband ‘the doctor’?”
She laughed. “He’s not terribly fond of his given name, Harrison. He thinks it makes him seem too stuffy, but I do call him Harrison. I just don’t refer to him that way when I’m speaking about him with strangers or the servants, of course. But you won’t be a stranger. After a while, he’ll probably prefer you call him Harrison,” she predicted, although not with complete confidence.
“Anyway, when you see the house, how big it is, you’ll understand why you don’t have to be too concerned about my mother-in-law. You can go days without seeing her. Before my father-in-law became more or less an invalid, he used to tease his wife by telling her one of their houseguests never left.
“Oh. Let’s have something to eat,” she said. “I’m starving.”
I was happy for the short intermission. I was beginning to feel bowled over by one wave after another at high tide. As it turned out, it was the longest lunch I’d had in New York, or anywhere. We were there until almost three, when she suddenly realized the time and signaled the waiter in a panic.
“The doctor is always prompt,” she explained. “Remember what I told you about how he feels about time. I think it comes from the tasks he performs during heart surgery. A moment is a life, after all.”
“My father believes time is money and money is life,” I said.
“Sometimes, I get the feeling my husband hates money—but don’t make him wait. That he hates more.”
She was right. We returned to the apartment house just two minutes after three, but her husband was already there, waiting in the living room with Leo. Despite being quite skeptical and undecided about it all, I was surprised at how nervous I was when we entered. I was less nervous auditioning for a Broadway role.
Dr. Davenport was seated in Leo’s chair, his legs crossed, leaning back, but sitting perfectly straight, stiffly. He was in a dark-blue suit and matching tie. When we entered, he turned slowly, the way a man who was careful about all his moves might turn. He didn’t smile. His sterling-silver-gray eyes focused entirely on me with an intensity that made me feel naked. I thought he was very handsome and quite distinguished-looking.