Seasons of the Heart (31 page)

It was a perfect vacation except that nothing changed between Phillip and Ann. No new fires were lit. After a week of relaxation they returned to San Francisco no more than good friends.

This apparently was the price Ann had paid for her career. For several years, she had assumed that Phillip had adjusted to her success. She now realized that he had not; he had simply stopped opposing her. He had caved in. He no longer gave a damn—about his career or hers. The only person he truly cared for was his daughter, Evie. Seeing them together in Carmel, Ann had to acknowledge their closeness. Without intending to, they somehow excluded her. They loved her, true, but she was not the center of their lives, as she had thought she was.

A part of her wondered miserably whether they might get along just as well without her. After all, she wouldn’t be the only woman ever to leave her husband and child. But Ann could not escape that unsatisfied need that had haunted her since childhood—the need to belong. It was what really kept her from leaving Phillip. It was not just that he loved her. It was that for so many years, she had been able to console herself with the knowledge that no matter what happened, she had a family that belonged to her, and she to them.

No matter how much happiness might lay elsewhere, the thought of abandoning that safe harbor and launching herself into unknown waters was impossible. But she would have to do something, or she would never find tranquility anywhere. She would have to try even harder with Phillip, bring him to love her as he once had. That was where her security lay.

This summer, she decided, they should try to take a whole month’s vacation. It was impossible to make any real changes while she still had all the pressures and responsibilities of the business. And it was Evie’s last summer before college. The timing was perfect; she would devote herself to Phillip and Evie.

But when she described her plan to Phillip later in the week, he seemed skeptical. “You mean you’d leave your office for four whole weeks?”

“I’m not even going to use a telephone, Phillip. I’m going to put May Brubeck in total charge of the agency, and the property managers can deal with most of their problems on their own.”

Phillip almost smiled, but it was not entirely a smile of humor. Secretly, he knew that Ann Coulter could never spend an entire summer away from business.

“Okay, honey. If you say so. I certainly won’t be missed at my office”

On July 5, bright and early, Phillip, Ann, Evie, Pamela, and Consuela loaded their things into the station wagon and set off on the beginning of what Ann felt would be their most glorious holiday in over twenty-five years of married life.

It would be a new beginning for Phillip and her; she knew it in her heart.

The elegant redwood cottage she had rented was in Nevada, on Lake Tahoe. There was a tiny private beach and an outboard motorboat. For the first two weeks, Ann was true to her word, and took not a single phone call from work. They went on hikes and picnics, boated and fished, barbecued ribs out on the flagstone terrace, and generally enjoyed themselves.

Then, insidiously, business began to intrude. One of Ann’s managers quit unexpectedly, a loan needed to be rolled over, May Brubeck had questions that only her boss could answer.

At first it was only a call or two a day, and she was still able to participate in all the lakeshore activities. But as July waned, the calls increased in number, and before Ann knew it, she was spending most of the day talking to San Francisco.

Consuela packed lunches for Phillip, Evie, and Pamela, and the three of them spent long days cruising aimlessly along the lakeshore.

Often, when they returned, they would find Ann still on the phone. She would look up, cover the receiver, and whisper, “I’ll be off in a minute.” But things did not get entirely out of control until August, when an urgent call came from Ann’s secretary.

“Mrs. Coulter, Mr. Gayne’s office has been calling and calling from New York. A crisis has come up with the new syndication. You’re to telephone immediately.”

Ann called, heart pounding at the mere mention of Adam’s name. But her excitement was replaced by anxiety when Justin Roth, Adam’s partner, came on the line and told her the bad news. There was no choice; she had to fly to New York immediately.

Just then, Phillip appeared at the head of the stairs carrying his fishing rod and a tackle box.

“Phillip? Would you come here for a moment, please?” Even before she spoke she knew what his reaction would be.

“Honey, I just talked to New York. They’ve apparently discovered a fraudulent omission in the seismological survey down in Florida, and all the partners are meeting in New York tomorrow to discuss what can be salvaged of the project. I’m afraid I have to go.”

Phillip’s expression was unreadable. Then he shrugged and replied in an even tone, “It’s your life, Ann.”

Later that day, they drove her to the airport. As they neared Reno, she tried again to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Phillip darling. I hate to leave you, even for a day. But that’s all it will be, I’m sure. A day, or at most, two.”

Phillip nodded. “We’ll see. Have a good trip.”

She felt a brief stab of anger. If Phillip had been a successful lawyer, he wouldn’t feel guilty if he went to New Orleans to plead a case. Did any husband apologize to his wife as she packed his bags?

“I love you,” she called as she entered the plane, feeling increasingly guilty.

The ride into Manhattan from the airport seemed terribly exhausting, and her weariness didn’t lessen even after she had settled into her room at the St. Regis, where the office had finally managed to book her. Kicking off her shoes, she sank onto the bed, fighting off the desire to call Adam. Instead, she called room service and ordered a steak sandwich and a pot of black coffee.

After she had eaten, she placed a call to Phillip. When he answered, Ann said in her most conciliatory tone, “Darling, how are you?”

“I’m fine. How was the trip?” he asked, but it was obvious he didn’t really care. Well, she didn’t blame him. She had left him high and dry. Why should he be concerned?

Ann hung up almost wishing she hadn’t called. There was an odd note in Phillip’s voice she had never heard before.

P
HILLIP, TOO, REGRETTED ANN’S
call. Something inside him had snapped when she left this time. He knew he was being unfair, even irrational, but he felt that she had deliberately deserted Evie and him. Her work would always come first. And it wasn’t the need for more money, or for security, that drove her these days. It was sheer competitive instinct. The lust for power.

Phillip suddenly felt an anger toward his wife that surpassed any he had experienced in all their years together. He thought his chest was going to burst as he paced his room. Then he decided:
To hell with it all—I’m going out on the town
.

He put on his navy cashmere blazer and caramel flannel trousers, adjusted his horn-rim glasses, and examined himself in the mirror.
Not bad. Not bad for fifty-two
. Ann liked to tell him that he looked like Robert Taylor. But no—that wasn’t so. He stared hard at his reflection. No,
what I really look like is Mr. Ann Coulter,
husband of the famous San Francisco real estate tycoon
. He looked down at his gold Patek Philippe watch, then at his tasseled Gucci loafers. Gifts from Ann. As was the Mercedes parked outside. No, he certainly wasn’t Robert Taylor. A kept man, perhaps. A gigolo. Some used the word “pimp.”

He choked back his rage, adjusted his tie, and marched into the living room, where Evie and Pamela were watching television.

“Evie, honey—I’m going down to the South Shore for a couple of hours. Don’t wait up for me.”

Evie looked at her father with approval and winked. “You look gorgeous. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Dad.”

Phillip smiled at her: his self-assurance had returned. “I won’t, honey. Don’t worry.”

God bless you, Evie
, he thought as he stepped out the door.

Even the limp didn’t bother him tonight. He walked a little faster to the car and set off down the unlit, winding road that led to the other side of the lake.

Switching on the radio, he began to hum along with the country-music station. Before he knew it, the neon lights of the State-line casinos lined the road. He picked the second one and pulled into the parking lot.

As he threw the dice, he decided tonight would be his lucky night. He was concentrating on the game, which seemed to be running in his favor, when he heard someone speak his name.

“My God! Phillip Coulter. I can’t believe it! What are you doing in this den of iniquity?”

Phillip looked up, annoyed. At first he didn’t recognize the woman standing at his elbow. Then he remembered he had met her at a fund-raiser somewhere. He searched his mind, then remembered. Her name was Linda Holt and she’d sat next to him at a black-tie dinner at the Mark Hopkins. He remembered finding her sophisticated, charming, witty, and above all, appealingly feminine.

He smiled. “And what is a lovely politico like you doing in the wilds of Nevada?”

“Trying to soak up a little Wild West atmosphere,” she drawled, then laughed.

The croupier interrupted their conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen—place your bets, please.”

Phillip shook the dice and threw….

Linda had bet along with him, and when they finally went to cash in their chips, Phillip felt like a conquering hero. Together they had won over three thousand dollars.

“You’re a positive genius!” Linda said, laughing. “I don’t know what your system is, but I started with only twenty dollars tonight, and look at all this loot! I’ve never won anything before in my life.”

Maybe that’s what I needed
, Phillip thought.
To win for a change.

“Haven’t rattled the ivories since college,” he said. “Maybe you were Lady Luck.”

“I hardly think so. You were ahead before I came along. Let me at least buy you a drink.”

“Thanks, but to tell you the truth, I’m starved after all that action. Would you care to have supper with me?”

“I’d love to.”

They found a table in the restaurant atop Harrah’s, looking out over the midnight-blue lake. The starlit sky, the flowers, and the dimly lit room made Phillip feel even more buoyant and young. Admiring Linda’s blond good looks, he began drawing her out, listening to her life story with close interest.

Linda had married right after being graduated from Bryn Mawr and had moved to Washington, D.C., where her husband had worked for the Securities and Exchange Commission. Even though they’d been unable to have children, she had been more than content to be a wife and homemaker, and they had been happily married for nearly fifteen years.

Then, without any warning, her husband had dropped dead on the golf course, leaving only a small insurance policy. She had almost broken down from the shock, but after two painful years, she had pulled herself together. An opportunity had come up to work for a large brokerage house in San Francisco, and the geographical change had been just what she needed.

“… And this is my first vacation. Now, what about you?”

“There’s not a lot to tell. I graduated from U.C., went to law school there, got married, spent a little time in the Pacific, came home. Ann and I—Ann’s my wife—have a daughter named Evie. I’ve been with the same law firm since after the war. Now, I don’t think they could make a musical comedy out of that, either.”

Linda laughed. “I don’t think it would be so bad—if the music were right.”

They continued to chat as if they’d known each other for years. By the end of the meal, Phillip decided that Linda was not only entertaining, but just what he needed.

“How long are you staying in Tahoe?” he asked casually.

“I’m up here for another week.”

“Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

She hesitated, but only because he was a married man. That was a rule she didn’t want to break, no matter how attractive Phillip Coulter was and how much she would have loved to see him again.

“I really don’t think so. But thanks so much for the wonderful evening. And for all that loot!”

He didn’t speak again as he walked her to her car, but back in his room he lay awake for hours thinking about a way to change her mind. Tonight, for the first time in years, he had felt like a man. It was not a sensation he would give up easily.

By morning he had made up his mind. At nine o’clock he called Linda’s hotel, hoping she was already awake.

“Listen, I would really like to take you out tonight,” he said without preamble. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Phillip, you’re married.”

“Linda, please. All I want to do is buy you dinner. My wife is away on business, and I would simply like the pleasure of your company.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” Linda said, suddenly deciding that rules were made to be broken. “We can always talk politics.”

That was why Phillip wasn’t at home when Ann called to say she would have to stay in New York a few more nights. The developers were being difficult.

“Oh, Mom, you don’t have to tell me why,” said Evie, who answered the phone. “I should have known better than to expect you.”

“Darling, this is one of those impossible situations that—”

“—that comes along once in a lifetime. Right, Mom? Okay, what do you want me to tell Dad?”

“Let me speak to him myself, Evie.”

“He’s not here.”

“He’s not? Where is he?”

“Gee, Mom, I really don’t know. Dad has a life of his own. He’s a grown-up man, you know, and I think he’s entitled.”

“Stop being so fresh.”

“Well, Mom, it’s the only way I can show you how upset we are that you broke your promise.” Evie hesitated, knowing she was being unfair. In a more conciliatory voice she added, “Listen, Mom, I know it’s tough for you to be an all-around great person and still be a tycoon.”

Ann laughed. “Thanks for understanding. I really mean it, dear.”

“Well, that’s a measure of my maturity,” Evie said mischievously. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s happening?”