Sex and Vanity(54)
“It was,” Lucie said softly. She didn’t have the heart to tell him how she truly felt. Every word of her grandmother’s toast carried a veiled insult. It was an insult to her mother, it was an insult to Cecil and Reneé, and it was a dagger in her heart. To Granny, no matter how graciously she behaved, no matter what she accomplished, she would always only ever be the poor little china doll. But, thankfully, none of that mattered anymore. Commiserating with Cecil on the roof garden above her grandmother’s apartment, she was more convinced than ever that she had made the right decision in choosing him as her spouse. Yes, he had his eccentricities, but she was well prepared to handle them. Despite everything that had just happened at the party, she knew that tonight, she was sending a subtle, elegant message to everyone downstairs who had ever pitied her, judged her, or underestimated her: I’m going to be Mrs. Cecil Pike, and I don’t give a damn what you think anymore.
CHAPTER FOUR
Outlook Avenue
East Hampton, NY
Auden moved a few paces back, scrutinizing the canvas from afar. “It’s astonishing, Lucie. Simply astonishing. Why aren’t you showing your work to gallerists and curators?”
“I don’t want to muddy the waters. People in the industry have begun to know me as a trusted adviser. I don’t want them to get confused by trying to show them my own work. It wouldn’t be appropriate,” Lucie replied, standing in the back corner of the barn that she used as her painting studio.
“So you’re content to just let these masterpieces sit here and collect dust?”
“You are much too generous, Auden. These aren’t masterpieces. I’d call them experiments. I’m happy to show these to friends and give them away, so please choose the one you want.”
“They’re all so good, I’m stumped. I’d be happy to have any of them. May I come back after lunch to contemplate these paintings a bit more?”
“Of course, I’ll leave them out. And yes, let’s get to lunch before my mother sends a search party out.”
They walked out of the barn and took the garden path that led up to the rambling Cape Cod–style house with a wraparound porch that looked out onto Sedge Island and Gardiners Bay beyond. Auden stopped for a moment on the porch and stared out at the placid waters reflecting the crisp blue sky. “You know, everyone loves the ocean view, but I’ve always thought the bay view more special. This, to me, is the best view in all of East Hampton.”
“I agree,” Lucie said with a little sigh. “I wish I could spend the whole summer here like I used to. Now I’m just another one of those grunts who tries to squeeze in forty-eight hours of detoxing from the city before having to head back again to repeat the vicious cycle.”
“Well, at least you have this piece of heaven to detox in. I find it’s one of the few houses left that retains its original charm and hasn’t been decorated to within an inch of its life.”
“My great-grandfather bought it as his little escape from the big house in Southampton, and my parents didn’t change a thing. Cecil isn’t crazy about it, though. He keeps trying to talk me into buying a house on Georgica Pond or, at the very least, redecorating this place.”
“He wants to unleash Kelly Wearstler on the place, I suppose.”
“Not quite. There’s this Belgian architect he’s currently obsessed with who does this wabi-sabi thing and only decorates in shades of mud. Like every wall should look like a rainy day in Antwerp. Cecil wants to fill the house up with antiques that look at least a thousand years old, and we’ll have to walk around wearing wooden clogs and burlap sacks as if we have seasonal affective disorder. He thinks that’s a cool look for a country house.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think it’s an interesting visual exercise, but I would probably want to murder him after a week. Anyway, it’s all moot, because the house isn’t ours. It’s Freddie’s, don’t you know? This house has been passed down through the Churchill men for four generations.”
“How very … typical.” Auden sighed.
“Well, the good thing is Freddie loves it exactly the way it is, and he won’t change a thing either.”
“Until his wife gets a hold of it.”
“You know, I can’t imagine Freddie ever getting married, but I suppose it will happen one day. Hopefully she’ll appreciate the same things about it as he does: the creaky old floors, the sun-bleached wicker, Dad’s seashell collection.”
They arrived at the terrace overlooking the pool, where they found Marian and Freddie seated at an old French enamel-top fold-out table.
“There you are! I thought you had completely forgotten about lunch. I know how you two can go on and on about art,” Marian said.
“Apologies. I was blown away by Lucie’s latest series and completely lost track of time,” Auden said.
Freddie was already half finished with his lobster roll. “Sorry, I couldn’t wait. I was starrrrrrving. I just came from a full morning of tennis.”
“Is this all from Circle Pond Farm?” Auden said, admiring the spread in front of him. There were platters of fresh lobster rolls, macaroni salad, curry chicken, chopped kale salad, chocolate fudge brownies, and ice-cold bottles of freshly squeezed raspberry lemonade.