I threw open the door to the condo and went in to have a look around. I remembered the space, the building, and the location, but none of the memories of the time I’d spent there with Worth. It was as if that time had never taken place.
I rented a motel room for the interim while the condo was refurbished. I couldn’t stand to stay at the estate one day more. It was too hard to see the resigned slump in Worth’s shoulders as he tried to deal with the fact that I didn’t want to be around him. I knew it would hurt me, too, so I left quietly and immediately.
Once I moved in, Bernie would be staying with me for a couple of weeks, until I felt comfortable in my surroundings. Then he’d go back to being my assistant and I supposed, my primary intermediary between myself and my husband and son. I had to respect, however, that Bernie had a life of his own.
I decided the décor of the condo had to be completely and utterly me; feminine and without the least bow to male habitation. I needed to recover the injured me inside before I could become an addendum to someone else’s life. I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t seem to help it. I felt as though I was possessed.
We were taking measurements when there was a knock at the door. Bernie opened it and welcomed the guest. While he looked familiar to me, Bernie introduced him as Jeremy, Worth’s friend. He was an interior designer and Worth had sent him with instructions of carte blanche; to give me absolutely anything and everything I wanted. Still a bit shaky from my recovery, the idea of having someone else handle this for me, particularly someone who had connections and could oversee it in a rapid manor, appealed to me greatly.
Jeremy invited Bernie and me to lunch at a nearby restaurant and he brought out his iPad to begin giving me interior design tours to determine my taste and color preferences. I ordered everything to be French Country; lots of color and feminine touches. He seemed sort of excited at the challenge. I suspected he did altogether too many Danish moderns to really let loose his creative spirit.
Jeremy’s staff didn’t waste an hour’s time. They descended on the condo with workmen of every description. Out went carpets and flooring completely, and the modern, glass fireplace was ripped out, disappearing in a huge dumpster parked below. In came stained glass, Queen Anne and furnishings in white with splashes of coral, purple, navy and citrine. Luckily, Worth and I owned the entire building so there was no committee to get permission from. The sleek glass tiles in the bathrooms were removed, replaced by hand-painted white with elaborate murals painted on ceilings and behind the bed in what would be my bedroom. Bleached hardwood was put down throughout and then covered with Aubusson rugs that reached beneath the floral, ruffled and overstuffed furnishings. Sounds systems were embedded in the walls and a flag screen television was installed in most rooms as the back of a revolving 18th century oil painting. The kitchen was outfitted with a massive sink and a La Cornue Grand Palais range with six burners. Copper pots sparkled from their overhead rack and wine bottles filled the temperature-controlled section of the walk-in cooler with wooden door. A center island of specially-fitted butcher block gave an authentic French feel. Bay windows were installed and filled with plants while black wrought iron decorated street side windows and balconies with window boxes filled with ivy and vivid flowers.
My king-sized bed was placed on a dais and canopied with side curtains that could be drawn against the bright sunlight when I wanted to rest throughout the day. I converted one of the bedrooms into a walk-in closet and asked for upholstered benches and shelving to hold my many pairs of shoes and boots. While I wasn’t much for jewelry, I did have a wall safe installed to hold what little I had, as well as the cash I would keep on hand.
One wall in the living room was fitted with sandwich glass and a constant veil of water fell between the panes, landing in a pool with koi fish at the base. There were aviaries cut into the walls and tropical birds flitted within while huge potted palms, birds of paradise and other tropical plants filled in the open spaces.
My favorite was an overstuffed, vintage tufted sofa covered in floral silk and its matching tufted ottoman that was nearly five feet in diameter.
Heavy drapes pooled on the carpets, their linings matching the pillows scattered about. Jeremy had discovered a stuffed peacock which took a place of honor before the fireplace, its irons of polished brass gleaming in the firelight.
I was utterly delighted with the outcome and didn’t want to leave. Jeremy was even quite pleased with himself, I could tell. Bernie asked if he could live with me permanently. There could be no higher praise.
I moved in and found that everything made me feel so comfortable and so familiar. It was an excellent tonic. Bernie stayed a couple of weeks to check up on me and then disappeared to an on-call basis. I knew Worth was watching out for me, albeit through the help of other people.
***
It was then that I received quite the unexpected visitor.
Margaret LaViere Langford had become my mother-in-law when I married Worth and later my step-mother when she married my father. She had asked me to call her Margaret, and I obliged.
The doorbell rang and I peeped through the security camera lens to see her standing on my porch. I opened the door and hugged her, waving her in. I remembered her and how kind she had always been to me.
“Please, make yourself at home while I make us some tea,” I invited.
“Thank you, dear,” she nodded but hugged me again before she sat down.
Once we were settled with a hand-painted teacup each of raspberry tea and a plate of small cookies between us, she asked after me.
“How are you doing, dear?” Her voice was sincerely interested and I didn’t feel that she was there to spy for Worth.
“I’m very happy to be here at the moment,” I began. “I miss Ford, but then he’s away at school, so it really doesn’t matter where I’m living. He’ll still be out of reach.”
“You’ve done a beautiful job with the re-decorating. I loved it here, too, when you and Worth let me live here, after his father…” she trailed off the remainder of that sentence.
“Margaret, part of my recovery is that I’ve decided to allow nothing but the blunt truth in my life. I feel as though we are all throttled by politely overlooking realities. It builds up and it’s not healthy.”
“Yes, dear, I quite agree with you.” She set her cup down and patted her lips with a coral and white striped cloth napkin. “That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I think it’s time that you and I talked. I know Worth fills in the gaps for you as best as he can, but he has a bit of bias. I thought you might appreciate a woman’s point of view.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything better. No holds barred?” I suggested.
“Go for it,” she agreed.