Chapter 11

Bolton

I believe my life was always destined to be complicated. Sure, I drove expensive cars and my clothes were tailored, but I never wanted for anything, at least never anything material. The problem with that is that I didn’t value anything material. And what was more, I couldn’t understand people who did.

That was not to say that they had a shortcoming. In many ways, they were the lucky ones. They didn’t ask for much, because there wasn’t much to be had. That made life simple for them, and it made it simpler for them to embrace life and love and a sense of family. I knew I was generalizing, but that’s how it appeared. When you didn’t have much, you clung to family.

I’d always been jealous of people who have big families. As the only child, I was the litmus test for parental success. My mother could not have been a better parent, and my father could not have been worse. I knew there were things about him that I might never know, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I knew he had done horrible things, unconscionable things, and I knew instinctively there was nothing in his past that would make me proud. I didn’t trust him. And yet, there I was, asking a woman to trust me when I couldn’t even give her a guarantee that I’d always be at her side. Did that make her the better person? Or, did it mean she’d been raised never doubting she was loved? That was something I could never know, and I had to be content with that. The problem was, I wasn’t always sure how to show love.

I knew I was in love with Lilly, maybe even from the first day. Certainly that first night, as we made love on her rickety old deck in the pouring rain. It wasn’t just the romance of the setting—it was a genuine need to touch and be inside another human being and to give in return. That’s what she brought to me. If I could do anything to help her or those she cared about, it was a drop in the bucket to what she brought into my life.

I knew it would be different to have someone living with me. There would be the normal period of adjustment, aligning our sleeping patterns and learning what the other one likes or doesn’t. I was prepared for all that. Neither of us was old enough to be inflexible yet, and I knew that when I was around her, my life was instantly enriched, in a way that money could never do. My primary concern was whether she could live with me. I was the one who was bringing mystery to our relationship. I didn’t blame her for feeling insecure, but I couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know. Instead, I was determined to surround her with so much love and security that she would never doubt that leaving her caused me great regret.

Lilly insisted on keeping her studio open. I didn’t blame her. I knew she wanted something to fall back on if things didn’t work out. In my own mind, I knew I would never leave her stranded, no matter what happened between us. She didn’t know that though, and just as Natalie needed something of which to be proud, so did Lilly. I did talk her into a reduced schedule, just three days during the week. She was reluctant, but she went along with it.

The first thing we did was to clear everything of hers out of the old apartment. That took about one hour—she didn’t have much. What she did have were memories of her parents. I bought her a leather-bound chest with a keyed lock, and I designated the bedroom next to my office as her office. I took her shopping to pick out office furniture, and when it was delivered, she got quite excited at the idea of putting up wallpaper and prissy curtains that seemed to make her feel like a woman should feel. The chest went in her office, and that’s where she put all her memories. She told me she would continue to add to the chest by adding the memories that she and I would make together. I swore to her they would be happy ones.

I had flown with Natalie to Savannah, to get her settled and make sure she wasn’t afraid. In many ways, despite her weaknesses, she was far stronger than Lilly. I attributed that to the fact that she only worried about herself. She was not as generous of heart as her younger sister. Nevertheless, she wasn’t a bad woman, only misguided. The clinic gave her a large bedroom to herself. There was a balcony that looked out over the wetlands that led to the ocean. It was the perfect place to contemplate, and I found myself in a small way jealous that I never thought of creating such a place for myself. It would’ve appealed to me greatly when I was younger and my father was giving me so much trouble. And then, again, after I’d left the government service.

I remembered that black time, when everything evil in the world weighed on my heart and there was no one with whom I could talk. My mother had seen something was very dark and unhappy within me, and she countered this with parties and introductions to pretty young girls. The time of my life for pretty young girls had passed the night that Carmella died. I would never be that innocent again.

I forced myself back to the present with a reminder that Lilly and I were planning to go shopping for her that afternoon. Her wardrobe was appalling, but I never told her that. I knew it was the best she could do, but she was such a gorgeous woman and nothing she wore complemented that beauty. I had asked around and learned that a wardrobe was not something to be purchased in one day, at one store. At least not the kind I wanted her to have. I had already visited several small boutiques that specialized in ordering and stocking clothes for particular clients. I had opened accounts at each of these in her name with the bills to come to me. That was where we started.

The first shop rode above the clouds in one of Louisville’s few skyscrapers. Its clients tended to be executives’ wives, and then again, sometimes their girlfriends. I escorted Lilly to the shop and sat in a viewing room furnished with tufted salmon-colored furniture, obviously intended for a feminine appeal. The sales associate, or consultant as she preferred to be called, accompanied Lilly back to the dressing rooms. As she tried on each dress or slacks outfit, she came into the viewing room to get my opinion. I could tell she was economy-minded, for she often asked the price. The sales consultant blushed at Lilly’s obvious faux pas. We left with two choices, and I took Lilly to lunch.

“Sweetheart, this wardrobe is something that I want you to have, not because you’re required to dress a certain way, but because you are a beautiful woman, and I want you to take pleasure in that. I want to spoil you and for other men to be envious that you’re on my arm and not theirs. Can you understand that?”

Her hair was twisted and pinned high on her head, and she had taken the time to wear makeup. I could tell she was self-conscious of her appearance, and yet I had no idea why. I wanted to be more understanding. I wished so badly that my mother was there, for she would’ve taken Lilly in hand and the two of them would have shopped a fortune away. That’s when it occurred to me that I was not the appropriate shopping partner.

“Do you have a girlfriend, another woman to shop with? Someone who might make you feel more comfortable?”

“I’m comfortable with you.”

“Yes, and I’m grateful for that, but I understand that women like to surprise their men. If I see you in the showroom, that sort of takes the surprise out of it, doesn’t it?”

I was desperately trying to work around the concept that she wasn’t dressing up to her potential. Being as sensitive as she was, she surprised me when she said, “You know, I’ve never had an unlimited budget before. I’m not sure of what I’m doing. Do you suppose I could hire a personal shopper, someone who knows the right stores and the right designs that would flatter me and make you proud of me?”

I could have kissed her right there in the restaurant. She understood exactly what I was getting at. “I think that’s an excellent idea. I’ll make the arrangements.” I couldn’t help myself but stood up and went around to her side of the table, wrapping my arms around her from the back and kissing the crown of her head. “Do you have any idea how happy you make me?”

“I hope that never changes.”

I made some inquiries and found a personal shopper who fit the bill. From that day on, she and Lilly spent two days a week for two months shopping. They didn’t just limit themselves to Louisville but went to Lexington, Cincinnati, Nashville. I knew one day I wanted to take her to Paris, but I wanted to save that.

The new wardrobe seemed to improve her spirits greatly. She spoke daily with her sister by phone, and evidently the clinic was working well because Natalie had become cheerful and positive. They chatted about the old apartment, and Lilly shared that I had offered to redecorate. Apparently, Natalie loved the idea and the two girls talked about the possibilities. Over a series of evenings, Lilly and I went to the old apartment and stripped off fifty-year-old wallpaper, tore out old carpeting, and took a sledgehammer to the cracked and mildewed tile in the bathroom. I could’ve easily hired all that done, but we enjoyed working on it together, and it gave us a common goal. When it came to replacing those items, we took care of the shopping part. I let her dictate what she wanted, and most of it I believe had come from Natalie. But that was fine, because it was making Lilly happy. We ordered workmen to install it and I had to say, when we were done, it was vastly improved. Lilly seemed happy with the result and commented several times that she couldn’t wait for her sister to come home. I hoped against hope that Natalie’s return would exceed Lilly’s wildest expectations.

The dark cloud on the horizon was my father. He had heard through the grapevine that Lilly had moved in with me, and I knew he wasn’t pleased. I hired a security firm to install surveillance cameras and a key card monitoring system to keep the gates locked. They had strict orders not to let my father through unless I personally approved it. I couldn’t take the chance that he would show up one day, drunk and abusive, and Lilly would be there alone. I would never let him hurt her the way he had hurt my mother.