The Wapshot Chronicle - John Cheever [100]
“I want to marry Melissa.”
Justina touched that façade of black hair that was like the Cartwright Block and sighed.
“Then why don’t you? Melissa is twenty-eight years old. She can do what she wants.”
“We would like your approval.”
“Melissa has no money and no expectations,” the old woman said. “She owns nothing of value but her beads. The resale value of pearls is very disappointing and they’re almost impossible to insure.”
“That wouldn’t matter.”
“You know very little about her.”
“I only know that I want to marry her.”
“I think there are some things about her past that you should know. Her parents were killed when she was seven. Mr. Scaddon and I were delighted to adopt her—she has such a sweet nature—but we’ve had our troubles. She married Ray Badger. You knew that?”
“She told me.”
“He became an alcoholic through no fault, I think, of Melissa’s. He had some very base ideas about marriage. I hope you don’t entertain any such opinions.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Mr. Scaddon and I slept in separate rooms whenever this was possible. We always slept in separate beds.”
“I see.”
“Even in Italy and France.”
“It will be some time before we can hope to travel,” Moses said, hoping to change the subject.
“I don’t think Melissa will ever be able to travel,” Justina said. “She’s not left Clear Haven since her divorce.”
“Melissa’s told me this herself.”
“It seemed a confining life for a young woman,” Justina said. “Last year I bought her a ticket to go around the world. She was agreeable, but when all her luggage had been brought aboard and we were drinking some wine in her cabin she decided that she couldn’t go. Her distress was extreme. I brought her back to Clear Haven that afternoon.” She smiled at Moses. “Her hats went around the world.”
“I see,” Moses said. “Melissa’s told me this and I would like to live here until our marriage.”
“That can be arranged. Is your father still alive?”
“Yes.”
“He must be very old. My memories of St. Botolphs are not pleasant. I left there when I was seventeen. When I married Mr. Scaddon I must have received a hundred letters from people in the village, asking for financial help. This did nothing to improve my recollections. I did try to be helpful. For several years I took some child—an artist or a pianist—and gave them an education, but none of them worked out.” She unclasped her hands and gestured sadly as if she had dropped the students from a great height. “I had to let them all go. You lived up the river, didn’t you? I remember the house. I suppose you have some heirlooms.”
“Yes.” Moses was unprepared for this and he answered hesitantly.
“Could you give me some idea of what they are?”
“Cradles, highboys, lowboys, things like that. Cut glass.”
“I wouldn’t be interested in cut glass,” Justina said. “However, I’ve never collected Early American furniture and I’ve always wanted to. Dishes?”
“My brother Coverly would know more about this than I,” Moses said.
“Ah yes,” Justina said. “Well, it does not matter to me whether you and Melissa marry. I think Mrs. Enderby is in her office now and you can ask her to set a date. She will send out the invitations. And be careful of that loose stone in the floor. You might trip and hurt yourself.” Moses found Mrs. Enderby and after he listened to some frowsty memories of her youth on the Riviera she told him that he could be married in three weeks. He looked for Melissa but the maids told him she had not come down and when he started to climb the stairs to her part of the house he heard Justina’s voice at his back. “Come down, Mr. Wapshot.”
Melissa didn’t come down until lunch and this meal, although it was not filling, was served with two kinds of wine and dragged on until three. After lunch they walked back and forth on the terrace below the towers like two figures on a dinner plate and looking for some privacy in the gardens they ran into Mrs. Enderby. At half-past five, when it was time for Moses to go and he took Melissa in his arms, a window in one of the towers flew open and Justina called down, “Melissa, Melissa, tell Mr. Wapshot that if he doesn