The Perfect Happiness(5)
They all stared at their tests. Then they all stared at Kate.
“Any negatives?” Letizia asked hopefully. They all shook their heads.
Kate sank onto the bed. “Hell! What am I going to do?”
“What do you want to do?” asked Letizia, sitting beside her and putting her arm around her again.
“You don’t know how hard I’ve worked for this stomach,” she exclaimed, then burst into tears. “Now I know, I can’t even have a fucking cigarette or a glass of wine. I might as well enroll in a convent!”
“It’s a little late for that!” said Candace.
Kate put her hand on her belly. “If I could be sure it was Pete’s, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? But what if it’s not Pete’s. I mean, he’ll know. Men always know. Babies always look like their fathers, don’t they?”
“Not always,” said Letizia.
“Oh, they always do. That way the fathers don’t eat them,” Candace retorted.
“You don’t have to make your mind up now, Kate,” said Angelica, aware that she was now running very late indeed. “Think about it for a few days.”
Kate ran her rheumy eyes over Angelica’s dress. “You need a belt,” she said with a sniff.
“I put one on and Olivier said I was emphasizing the widest part of me.”
For a moment Kate was drawn out of herself. “He said what?”
“I hope you cut off his balls!” said Candace.
“No, I took off the belt.”
“You sop! What are you? A doormat?” Candace laughed fondly. “What are we going to do with you?”
“I think I need a new body.”
Letizia sighed. “No, darling, you just need a new husband.”
Kate managed to stagger over to her chest of drawers and pulled out a belt. “Don’t argue with me. I’m dangerous when drunk.” She slipped it around Angelica’s waist. “This is not the widest part of you, whatever Olivier says. You look fabulous!”
“You really do,” agreed Letizia. “Olivier should be ashamed of himself. You should have married an Italian. They love curvaceous women.”
“The widest part of you, my ass! His ego’s so wide he can barely make it out the door! Tell him that and see how he likes it.” Candace smiled at her affectionately. “Go knock ’em dead!”
“Now we’ve sorted you out, let’s talk about me,” said Kate.
Candace gave her a big hug. “Angelica’s right. Sit on it for a few days. Call me in the morning. Letizia will put you to bed.”
“You’re leaving?” said Kate in a small voice.
“I’m not,” said Letizia, stepping in dutifully.
Candace beckoned Angelica with a brisk wave. “Come on, honey, we’re out of here.”
Angelica put her arms around Kate, whose face crumpled like a child being left at boarding school. “I’ll call you in the morning—if I’m still alive!”
“Thank you for coming, you two. I really appreciate your support.”
“I know,” cried Candace as she hurried down the stairs. “We expect huge rewards in heaven! Birkin bags and Louboutin shoes by the truckload—in every color!”
“What a mess!” Angelica sighed as they stepped onto the pavement.
“This time it really is a mess,” agreed Candace. “Where do you have to go?”
“Cadogan Square.”
“I’ll take you.” She summoned her driver with a wave. The glossy black Mercedes pulled out into the street.
“But you’re late for the theater.”
“I’ll say I crept in at the back—what’s the difference? He’s mad already. Anyway, you know what? I’ve seen enough theater for one night.”
“You think she’s acting?”
“Her whole life is theater, God love her. And we do love her, don’t we!”
As they climbed into the car, Kate’s front door flew open and Letizia hurried down the steps waving Angelica’s bag.
“Oh Lord!” Angelica sighed. “Not again!”
“If your brain wasn’t in your head, you’d be leaving it all over the city,” said Candace.
“You sound like Olivier.”
“No, honey. Olivier doesn’t think you have a brain!”
2
Buddha says that pain or suffering arises through desire or craving and that to be free of pain we need to cut the bonds of desire.
In Search of the Perfect Happiness
Angelica arrived to find the dinner had already begun. She was led by a young man in a black Nehru jacket through the candlelit hall to the dining room, where the sound of chatter and clinking glasses rose into the lily-scented air. When she entered, those she knew called out and waved, teasing her for being late. She dared not catch Olivier’s eye; it was enough that she could sense his staring at her furiously from the far end of the table. The hostess in tight leather trousers and shiny black boots was more forgiving. She leapt up and strode around the table to embrace Angelica affectionately, wrists jingling with bracelets and bangles.