The Grand Design by Joy Callaway

Author:Joy Callaway
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harper Muse
Published: 2022-05-17T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

December 3, 1946

“Darling. Darling, wake up.” I opened my eyes to Lee. He was cradling me in his arms. “Are you all right? You fell out of bed.”

I felt bruised, and my heart was still racing, my pulse rushing through my veins.

“Yes, of course. I just had a nightmare is all.” Though it wasn’t exactly a nightmare. It had been horrible and wonderful. We had been in the midst of a war, and bombs were dropping on the hotel. I’d been running through the halls, trying to find the suite for refuge, when Enzo had appeared out of nowhere.

“Tell me about it,” Lee said. “It helps to talk about it.”

“Another war.” It sounded ridiculous, but I’d lived through two wars and I wasn’t used to peace. Lee lowered me to the bed and kissed my forehead, finding his way beside me. His fingers stroked the damp hair away from my face.

“You’re safe.” Lee pressed against me and his mouth fell on mine. I let him kiss me, let his hands dip into my silk gown. I closed my eyes as his mouth dropped down my neck to my collarbone. “I’m here,” he whispered. “There’s no separation between us, no room for war or fear. No dark secrets.”

Secrets. At once, I was only vaguely aware of his touch, of the way my body rose up to meet his. I thought of the stacks of papers on the discarded desk. The men still thought they might have a reason to hide. Did the risk of war persist?

I stopped Lee, placing a hand on his chest.

“There’s no need to try. I won’t be able to go back to sleep.” I sighed and sat up. My body ached from the fall, but I dared not tell Lee. He collapsed against the pillows beside me.

“Is it too much?” He almost whispered the question. I knew why. Ordinarily, I’d give him a verbal lashing for a sentiment like that, but I couldn’t muster the strength. “It’s a large resort, Dorothy, a massive undertaking for anyone. You’re just coming off of the enormous Quitandinha project, too, and you must be tired. I understand the company needs this to survive, but, darling, you can’t kill yourself to make sure the rest of us stay afloat. I think the stress is—”

“I’m used to pressure,” I said. I sighed. “But I’m impatient too. I want all of it done immediately and done well so I can have the check in hand, but that can’t be. And there’s the matter of Elisabeth just showing up.” I looked at him, hesitating to tell him the rest, to show him how I really felt, but he kissed my forehead and my resistance crumbled. “She’s won everything,” I whispered.

I remembered it clearly, the day I realized Elisabeth had stolen my children from me. George, Diana, Penny, and I had been having a rare picnic in Central Park, complete with the loveliest cucumber sandwiches and fresh orange juice and eclairs, celebrating that they were all home for a weekend together for the first time in eight years.

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