Toxic Bachelors (30 page)

The woman prattled on endlessly about the performance, and said she had liked the previous season's production of it better. She went on ad nauseam about the strengths and weaknesses of the dancers, and then fixed her gaze on Charlie with beady eyes, and made a cryptic comment that meant nothing to him when she first said it.

“Well, you've made quite a coup, haven't you,” she said, sounding both knowing and nasty. Charlie had no idea what she was talking about as he stared at her, wishing Carole would come back. As angry as he was at her, standing awkwardly next to her was a lot more pleasant than being trapped by this dreadful woman and her mealymouthed husband, both of whom were glued to him because of who he was. “I hear she nearly had a nervous breakdown when her husband left her. I don't know what she needed him for anyway, the Van Horns have a lot more money than he does. All he ever was was new money. The Van Horns are the oldest fortune in the country.” He had no idea why she was talking to him about the Van Horns. He knew Arthur Van Horn himself, though not well. He was one of the most conservative men he'd ever met, surely the most uptight, and definitely the most boring, and how much money they had was of absolutely no interest to Charlie.

“The Van Horns?” Charlie asked blankly. She sounded like a madwoman as she spewed gossip and details of a situation that completely bemused him. She was talking about some woman whose husband had left her who had apparently been a Van Horn. It all sounded more than a little crazy to Charlie, as she looked at him as though he were completely stupid.

“The Van Horns. I was talking about the Van Horn girl. Wasn't that who I just saw you with when I walked over?” She looked at him as though he were demented, and then suddenly as he looked at her, he realized what she was saying. He felt as though he had been struck by lightning.

“Of course. I'm sorry. I was distracted. Miss Van Horn, of course.”

“Are you two seeing each other?” she asked him boldly. Women like her had no shame about asking questions. They thrived on gathering information to use later to impress others that they were insiders in the social group, though more often than not they weren't. They were acquainted with the “right” people, but disliked by all.

“We're business connections,” he said, nodding. “The foundation has been involved with her children's center. They're doing a great job with abused children. What was her married name, by the way? Do you remember?”

“Wasn't it Mosley? Or Mossey? Something like that. Dreadful man. He made an absolute fortune. I think he married a girl even younger than Carole after her. It's a shame it shook her so badly.”

“His name wasn't Parker, was it?” Charlie was now a man on a mission. He wanted to know the truth, from whatever source he got it. Even from the likes of this repulsive social climber.

“Of course not. That's her mother's maiden name. The Parker Bank, in Boston. Not quite as big as the Van Horn fortune, but very handsome. Nice for Carole she has two fortunes to inherit from, not just one. Some people are just born lucky,” she said, as Charlie nodded, and he saw Carole approaching. It was easy to spot her in the crowd in high heels, and he signaled to her that he would join her where she was, as he thanked his informant and departed. He had discovered so many lies in the past two days, that he no longer knew what to believe about Carole.

“I'm sorry I left you with that awful woman. I figured if I stuck around, she'd stay forever. Did she chew your ear off?”

“Yes,” he said succinctly.

“She always does. She's the biggest gossip in New York, all she ever talks about is who married who, who someone's grandfather was, and how much money they inherited or made. God knows where she gets her information. I just can't stand her.” He nodded, and they followed the crowd back to their seats. The curtain went up immediately, and Charlie sat, leaning away from her, looking wooden. Carole's fatal flaw, he had discovered in the past few days, was not the obvious one that she came from a different world, and a simple background, and was uncomfortable in his world, or even that she was a fraud, as he had thought on Wednesday. Her fatal flaw, as it turned out, was a much simpler one. She was a liar.

When the performance ended and the curtain went up, she smiled at him, and thanked him.

“It was really lovely. Thank you, Charlie. I loved it.”

“I'm glad,” he said politely. He had promised to take her to dinner afterward, but he no longer wanted to. What he had to say to her he didn't want to say in public. He suggested they go back to his apartment. She smiled at the suggestion, and said she could make him scrambled eggs. He nodded, and barely managed to make idle chitchat with her on the short ride back to his apartment. She had no idea what was wrong with him that night, but it was very obvious to her that he was upset about something. And she didn't have long to wait to find out what it was.

He opened the front door for her, turned the lights on, strode into the living room with her following him, and didn't even bother to sit down. He turned to face her with a look of outrage.

“Just what exactly did you think you've been doing all this time with all your goddamn pretentious bullshit about not liking eating clubs and the social scene, and people with money? Why the hell did you lie to me? You're not just some simple girl who devoted herself to slaving away to save the poor in Harlem. You come from the same world I do, you went to the same school I did. You're doing the same things I am for the same reasons I am, and you're every goddamn bit as rich as I am, Miss Van Horn, so don't give me any more lofty bullshit about how uncomfortable and ill at ease you are in my world.”

“Where did all of that come from? And it's none of your goddamn business how rich I am. That's the whole point, Charlie. I don't want to be admired and pursued and respected and kowtowed to because of who my grandfather was. I want to be respected and liked because of who I am. And there's no goddamn way on earth to do that with a name like Van Horn. So I use my mother's name. So what? So sue me, for chrissake. I don't owe you or anyone else any explanations.” She was as angry as he was.

“I didn't want you to lie to me. I wanted you to tell me the truth. How am I supposed to trust you if you even lie to me about who you are? Why didn't you tell me, Carole?”

“For the same reason you didn't tell me about your yacht. Because you thought it would scare me or shock me or put me off, or maybe you were afraid I was after your money. Well, I'm not, you idiot. I have my own. And everything I said about being uncomfortable in your world is true. I hated that world all my life, I grew up in it, I had it coming out of my ears. All the pomp and ceremony and bullshit and pretentious garbage I want no part of. I love what I do. I love those kids. And that's all I want now. I don't want a fancy life. I don't need it. I hated it when I had it. I gave it up four years ago, and I'm a lot happier now. And I'm never going back to that world, for you, or anyone else.” She nearly had steam coming out of her ears.

“But you were born there. You belong there, even if you don't want to be there. Why was I crawling around apologizing to you? You could have at least let me off the hook on that one. You could have at least told me who you are instead of making a fool of me. When were you going to tell me? Ever? Or were you going to pretend to be Little Miss Simple forever, and make me crawl around on my hands and knees apologizing to you for what I have, and who I am, and the way I live? And now that I think about it, I don't believe you live in a studio apartment either, do you? You own that whole house, don't you?” His eyes blazed at her. She had lied to him about everything. She bowed her head for a moment and then looked at him.

“Yes, I do. I was going to move to Harlem when I opened the center, but my father wouldn't let me. He insisted I get that house, but I didn't know how to explain it to you.”

“At least someone in your family has some sense, even if you don't. You'd have gotten yourself killed up there, and you still could. You're not Mother Teresa, for chrissake. You're a little rich girl, just like I was a rich boy, at way too early an age. And now I'm a rich man. And you know what? If people don't like it, screw them. Because this is who I am. Maybe one of these days you'll stop apologizing too. But until that happens and you figure out that it's okay to be who we are, you can't go around lying to people and pretending you're not who you are. It was a stupid, rotten thing to do, and you made me feel like a fool. I called the goddamn Princeton alumni office this week and told them they'd made a mistake and dropped you off the roster. They told me you'd never gone to school there, because I thought your name was Parker, of course. And then I thought you were a fraud. As it turns out, you're not a phony, you're just a liar. In relationships, people owe it to each other to be honest, no matter what that is. Yes, I have a boat. Yes, I have a lot of money. So do you. Yes, you're a Van Horn. So fucking what? But once you lie to me like that, I don't trust you, I don't believe you, and to tell you the truth, I don't want to be with you. Until you figure out who you are, and who you want to be when you grow up, I don't think there's a damn thing left for us to say to each other.” He was so upset he was shaking from head to foot, and so was she. She hated the fact that it had come out this way, but in some ways, she was relieved. She had hated lying to him. It was one thing not telling people who she was at the center, but it was an entirely different thing not telling him.

“Charlie, I just wanted you to like me for me, not because of my father's name.”

“What did you think? That I was after your money? That's ridiculous and you know it. You turned this whole relationship into a farce, and your lying to me about any of it was a complete disrespect to me.”

“I only lied to you about my name, and about where I come from. It's not important. I'm still me. And I apologize. You're right, I shouldn't have done it. But I did. Maybe I was just plain scared. And once you knew me as Carole Parker, it was a lot harder to explain who I really was. I didn't kill anybody, for God's sake, I didn't steal your money.”

“You stole my trust, which is worse.”

“Charlie, I'm sorry. I think I'm falling in love with you.” As she said it, tears rolled down her cheeks. In her own eyes, she had screwed up everything, and she felt terrible about it. She loved everything about him.

“I don't believe you.” He spat the words at her. “If you were falling in love with me, you wouldn't have lied to me.”

“I made a mistake. People do that sometimes. I was scared. I just wanted you to love me for me.”

“I was beginning to. But God only knows who you really are. I was falling in love with Carole Parker, a simple girl from nowhere with no money and nothing to her name. Now you turn out to be someone else. A fucking heiress, for chrissake.”

“Is that so terrible? You can't forgive me for that?”

“Maybe not. What was terrible was lying to me, Carole. That's the terrible part.” As he said it, he turned away from her, and stared out the window at the park. He stood that way, with his back to her, for a long time. They had said enough for one night, and possibly forever.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked in a choked voice.

He didn't answer at first, and then he nodded, and finally spoke. “Yes, I do. It's over. I could never trust you. You lied to me for nearly two months. That's a hell of a long time.”

“I'm sorry,” she said softly. He still had his back to her. He didn't want to see her face again. It hurt too much. The fatal flaw was hanging in the breeze.

She walked quietly out of the apartment, and closed the door behind her. She was still shaking when she got into the elevator, and when she got downstairs. She told herself that the whole thing was ridiculous. He was angry at her for being rich, when in fact he was richer still. But it wasn't about that, and she knew it. He was furious with her because she had lied to him.

She took a cab back to her house, and hoped that he would call her that night. He didn't. He didn't call her that night or the next day. She checked her voice mail constantly. Weeks later, he still hadn't called her. Finally, she realized that he never would again. What he had said to her that night was true. He had told her it was over for him, that he could no longer trust her. However good her intentions, she had broken the sacred trust between them, which was the essence of a relationship. He didn't want to see her anymore, or talk to her, or be with her. She knew she was in love with him now, but she knew that it wouldn't change anything. Charlie was gone for good.

16

T
WO WEEKS BEFORE
T
HANKSGIVING
, A
DAM AND
Maggie were spending a quiet evening at his place, when out of the blue she brought up Thanksgiving. She hadn't thought about it before, but now that they were spending so much time together, she wanted to spend it with him, and wondered if he was going to be with his kids. She hadn't met either of them yet, and they had both agreed it was still too soon. They were together nearly every night, and he loved being with her, but as he told her, this was still the test drive, and they were taking their relationship out for a spin.

“Thanksgiving?” He looked at her blankly. “Why?”

“Are you going to be with your kids?”

“No, Rachel is taking them to her in-laws in Ohio. We alternate holidays. This is my off year.”

She smiled at him then. She hoped that meant good news for her. She hadn't had a real Thanksgiving, with people she cared about, in years. Not since she was a very little kid, if then. She'd cooked a turkey with her mother once, who had been too drunk to eat it and passed out before it was cooked. Maggie had wound up eating it at the kitchen table alone. But at least her mother was there, even if unconscious in the next room.

“Do you suppose we could spend it together?” she asked, cuddling up to him, and looking at him.

“No, we can't,” he said, looking grim.

“Why not?” She took it as an immediate rebuff. Things had been going really well between them, and the brusqueness of his answer took her by surprise and hurt her feelings.