Cypress Point (26 page)

San Francisco, 1959

“S
he's my right arm,” Lloyd Peterson said, his hand on Lisbeth's shoulder. “I'm not sure if I can get along without her that long.”

He was looking across the reception desk at Gabriel, who had come to the office as they were closing up to plead with Lloyd to let Lisbeth take a vacation. Lisbeth had already told Gabriel she could not possibly take a whole week away from the office in the middle of the summer, when she was the only girl working, but Gabriel was not one to give up easily.

“You need a break,” he'd told her as they walked back to his place from the cinema the night before. “You work too hard.” They'd just seen
Some Like it Hot,
during which Gabriel had whispered to her that he'd take her over Marilyn Monroe any day. Those flattering words were still on her mind as she listened to Lloyd and Gabriel's amiable argument
over the possibility of her taking some time off. He wanted to go to the coastal town of Mendocino with her for a week's vacation. Although Lisbeth longed for a week alone with Gabriel, she knew Lloyd could not spare her. Still she decided to let the two men—the two old friends and tennis partners—duke it out.

“Let's talk about this over a beer,” Gabriel finally said to Lloyd, who nodded in agreement, and the two of them left her alone to close up the office.

Lisbeth had to smile as the men walked out the door. She doubted Gabriel would win this one, but it was sweet of him to try.

She turned on the radio on her desk, as she always did when she had the office to herself. Switching the station from Lloyd's favorite, where the Kingston Trio was singing “Tom Dooley,” to the Negro station Gabriel had introduced her to, where the music was earthier and made her want to dance, she set about filing the charts that had been used that day.

Gabriel had become almost fanatical about wanting to take a vacation in Mendocino. He'd been talking about it ever since Alan and Carlynn honeymooned there after their wedding nearly two years earlier. They'd raved about the peace and quiet and the natural beauty of the location, saying how perfect it was for a romantic getaway. It would be different for her and Gabriel, though, Lisbeth knew. Whenever they stayed in a hotel, they had to get two separate rooms. Someday, Gabriel promised her, they would be married. She now wore a spectacular diamond and sapphire ring on her left hand, but they had not yet set a date. She trusted their relationship, its depth and its love, but she knew Gabe still harbored the fear that marriage to him would cost her more than he was worth.

She'd certainly thought about the price she was paying for being with Gabriel. She had not visited Cypress Point since
Carlynn's wedding, and she missed the mansion and the view from the terrace in a way that could cause her actual physical pain. Sometimes at night, she yearned for her old bedroom, where the open windows let in the sound of the waves slapping against the rocky shore.

She thought, too, about the financial cost a marriage to Gabriel would mean for her. She would lose a fortune if she was cut out of her mother's will. That only meant, she tried to reason with herself, that she and Gabriel would live like most couples, dependent on only themselves and their own resources to get by. They would never be rich, but between her small salary and Gabriel's larger one, they would be in better shape than many people they knew. She should need nothing more than that.

It was not fair, though. Not fair that Carlynn, who had gotten the best of everything as a child, should still receive it now, as an adult. It was a struggle for Lisbeth not to shift the anger she felt toward her mother onto her sister's shoulders. When Carlynn would return from a visit to the mansion, Lisbeth could barely look her in the eye, she was so jealous. She knew that her twin fought with Delora to allow Lisbeth to visit Cypress Point, but there was no way she could win that battle. Delora had all the power.

Although Lisbeth had not set foot in the mansion in two years, Carlynn made regular trips to see their mother, whose eyesight was worsening and who was developing other aches and pains, as well, even though she was only in her fifties. Carlynn would be upset after those visits, because, although she possessed the ability to heal total strangers, she seemed unable to rid her mother of her ailments.

Carlynn was upset over other matters, as well, Lisbeth knew. After two years of marriage, she was still not pregnant, and Lisbeth heard the frustration in her sister's voice every
month when she'd call to announce she had, once again, gotten her period.

Lisbeth, though, had decided she didn't want children, and she thought Gabriel seemed relieved by that decision. He still worried about how their half-white, half-Negro children might fit into the world, but Lisbeth's reasoning went even deeper than that. Her own childhood had been so unhappy, and her memories of herself as a little girl so excruciating, that she couldn't bear the thought of watching a child of her own endure anything that might be hurtful. She still used a diaphragm to keep from getting pregnant, but Carlynn had told her that within a year or two, birth control pills would be on the market. Lisbeth had kept her joy over that news to herself out of sensitivity to her sister, who might never need a pill to avoid getting pregnant.

Little Richard was singing about Miss Molly when Lloyd and Gabriel surprised her by returning to the office. Lloyd wore a look of defeat on his face, but Lisbeth knew him well enough to see the smile behind it.

“Your boyfriend drives a hard bargain,” Lloyd said to her, and she looked at Gabriel.

“We're going?” she asked, surprised.

“This Saturday,” Gabriel said. “For an entire week. I already called to book two rooms for us at the same inn where Carlynn and Alan stayed. Right on a bluff over the water.”

Lisbeth walked around the desk to give each man a hug. She could hardly wait to call Carlynn to tell her the news.

 

Mendocino was a small, stunning village, perched on a bluff high above the Pacific, and in some ways it reminded her of the area around Cypress Point. As they drove into the town in Gabriel's open convertible with its fins and whitewall tires, she wondered if that might have been the reason he had so wanted
to bring her here. Maybe it was his attempt to give her back a bit of what she'd lost.

The architecture ranged from Victorian to early Californian, and the homes and shops looked bright and clean in the afternoon sun. In the distance to their left, a group of people stood at the edge of a bluff, staring out to sea.

“What's going on out there?” she asked, and Gabriel followed her gaze to the bluff.

“Everyone's dressed in black,” he said. “It's probably a funeral service of some kind. Maybe they're scattering someone's ashes into the sea.”

She thought he was right as she, too, noticed the dark clothing and somber demeanor of the group silhouetted at the edge of the cliff. “What a glorious location,” she said, and it was a moment before she could tear her gaze away.

The inn was small and lovely, set back just a bit from the bluff and surrounded by a gorgeous coastal garden in full bloom. They walked together into the small office at the side of the inn, and Lisbeth was relieved when the woman behind the counter greeted them with a wide smile, as though she had interracial couples checking in every day of the week. Lisbeth wondered if they might have been able to get away with a double room instead of two singles, but Gabriel would never have agreed to that. He was more protective of her honor than she was.

“No keys,” the innkeeper said after they had paid and signed the guest book. “You have the two rooms on the second floor. Just turn right at the top of the stairs.”

Gabriel thanked the woman, and they left the office, gathered their luggage from the car and entered the front door of the inn. At the top of the stairs, they turned right and opened the first of two doors.

The room was small and cozy, with a white iron double bed
and a view of the bluffs. Lisbeth set her suitcase down and walked over to the open window, its white, gauzy curtains wafting into the room on the soft breeze. She could see the dark-suited throng walking away from the cliff, some of them with their arms around one another.

“I think this room is mine,” Gabriel said.

She looked at him in surprise. “Why don't we look at both of them before we decide who gets which?” she suggested.

“All right.” He set his own suitcase on the floor. “Let's look at the other one,” he said, walking back into the hall.

She was first to enter the room and her gaze instantly fell on a wedding dress hanging from a hook on the closet door. “Oh,” she said, drawing back quickly. “This must be someone else's room.”

Gabriel stood right behind her, preventing her from exiting. “No,” he said, his lips against her ear. “I think it's yours.”

Lisbeth felt a chill run up her spine. That dress. She suddenly recognized it as the dress she had tried on two years earlier when shopping for Carlynn's wedding dress with her. She could never forget that magnificent arrangement of satin and lace.

“I…I don't understand, Gabe,” she said.

He turned her toward him, smiling at her. “Will you marry me?” he asked. “Here? Tomorrow? Out there?” He nodded toward the view outside the window. “On the bluff overlooking the ocean?”

For just an instant, she felt torn, thinking of the wedding she'd long dreamed about, where she and Gabriel would be surrounded by family and friends. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that she would become Gabriel's wife. Tomorrow night, they'd be able to share a hotel room for the first time. She would be Lisbeth Johnson.

She threw herself into his arms. “Yes, of course I will!” she said. “How on earth did you know about the dress?”

“Does it matter?”

“No…except that I'm thinner than I was when I last tried it on.”

“It will fit,” he promised. “And I'll find someone here who can take pictures of you in it, so you can show everyone back home how beautiful you looked.”

 

The minister was to meet them on the bluff at eleven the following morning, and at ten, Lisbeth put on the dress and styled her hair, which would probably fall flat once she was out in the damp, cool air above the ocean. But she didn't care. There was no full-length mirror in her room, but she knew the dress fit perfectly, and the beauty of wearing it was more in the
feeling
than in the
seeing.
Carlynn had something to do with this, of course. How else would Gabriel have found the right dress, in the right size for her? She had no flowers, though, and her hands felt a bit awkward, with no place to rest. Gabe had probably not given a thought to flowers.

At ten of eleven, Gabriel knocked on her door. She pulled the door open, and Gabriel's eyes glistened behind his glasses when he saw her. “You are the most beautiful bride I've ever seen,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said. “And you look beautiful yourself.” He was wearing a white tuxedo she had never seen him in before, a red carnation in his lapel.

He put his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes. “I wasn't going to tell you this,” he said. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I know how sad you must feel that Carlynn's not here with you. So, I'm going to tell you that she is.”

Her mouth dropped open. “She is? Where?”

“She and Alan will meet us on the bluff, okay?”

“Oh, yes!” she said. “Thank you so much, Gabe.”

“And she has flowers for you,” he added.

She laughed, slipping her hand through the arm he offered her.

It took them a few minutes to get down the narrow stairs of the inn. Her dress was perfectly tailored with a narrow cut that hugged her slender body, but Gabriel had to carry the long train in his arms to prevent them both from falling headlong down the stairs.

They started walking toward the cliff overlooking the water, Lisbeth searching for three people—Carlynn, Alan and the minister—but she was distressed to see another crowd on the bluff, as there had been the day before. Probably another scattering of ashes, she thought, and it was only as they neared the throng of people that she began to make out faces. Carlynn. Alan. Lloyd Peterson and his wife. Gabriel's mother and sister, aunts and uncles and cousins from Oakland. Their boating friends. All of them standing there on the bluff, grinning at the stunned look on her face.

Gabriel clutched her hand where it rested on his arm.

“Surprise, baby,” he whispered to her. “We've been planning this for months.”

She was unable to take another step forward as she began to cry. Carlynn ran out from the crowd to hug her, hard, and handed her a bouquet of red roses, and the Negro minister from the Johnson family's Oakland church walked toward her and Gabriel, since Lisbeth seemed unable to move herself.

“We assumed you wouldn't mind if I was your matron of honor,” Carlynn whispered as she took her place next to her.

Lisbeth shook her head numbly, noticing that Alan stood next to Gabriel as his best man. She floated through the ceremony, touched beyond words that Gabriel had planned this, going back in her mind over clues she'd missed: Lloyd allowing her to go on this trip after pretending to be against it; Carlynn asking her a month or so ago if she thought they were
exactly the same size now; the Fourth of July celebration at Gabriel's mother's house, when the chattering in the kitchen had stopped the moment Lisbeth had walked into the room.