Chapter 6
The suite Dominique and Bill got at the hotel in Courchevel was even nicer than the
ones they had had before. It had a big living room with a beamed ceiling, oversized
comfortable furniture, a huge fireplace, a beautiful view of the mountains, a bedroom
with a canopied bed, and two luxurious marble bathrooms with deep bathtubs. The
service was excellent, and the food in the restaurant outrageously expensive but worth
it. There was transportation to take them to any of the three valleys that Courchevel had
access to.
And there was champagne waiting for them when they arrived, with a tray of
sausages and cheeses, cookies, petits fours, and a box of delicious chocolates.
Dominique ate one as they walked around the room, and smiled checking it out. The
management said the room had been recently redone as part of a renovation, and
everything looked fresh and brand-new. The staff called her “Mrs. Smith,” which she
enjoyed hearing every year for two weeks. She felt a little like Cinderella at the ball,
but for now the glass slipper fit, even though the clock would strike midnight in two
weeks and she knew it. She could revel in being with him night and day until then.
Bill kissed her when the bellboy left the room. Their bags were set up on stands in
the bedroom, and Dominique had declined the offer to unpack them. She liked unpacking
her own bags, and could do Bill’s too.
She flopped down on the couch, ate another chocolate, and smiled at Bill.
“I love traveling with you,” she said, feeling young and romantic. It felt like a
honeymoon every year. It was already evening when they got to the hotel.
“Do you want to eat in the room or go to the restaurant?” he asked her. She thought
about it for a minute and opted for the room. It had been a long day, and it was cozier
being in the suite with him. It seemed like too much trouble to get dressed up, to show
off with the other guests. The European women who stayed there wore jazzy après-ski
clothes and a lot of jewelry at night. Dominique brought very little, and she was
wearing gold bracelets Bill had given her. She didn’t want to worry about big jewelry
at the hotel. They had noticed over the years that there were two kinds of women there.
There were sexy, much younger gorgeous girls, who were either hookers or the
mistresses of older, very wealthy men. And there was a group of older, much less svelte
women who used little or no makeup, wore ski clothes of quality but with less style, and
didn’t have glamorous-looking hair or wear sexy, romantic-looking fur hats, who were
the wives those men had brought with them. The two groups never mixed, and
Dominique realized with a start the first time they stayed there that she was one of the
former group, a mistress and not a wife, though she was twice the age of the girlfriends
and mistresses and a respectable woman, even if she was the girlfriend of a married
man. She felt like a misfit when she thought about it. She couldn’t help but notice the
longing looks of the men with their wives toward the sexier single women, or the
inviting glances the young women cast at the men who hadn’t brought their wives,
hoping for a golden future. The men were often just as unattractive in one group as in the
other, but there was a distinct difference between the two groups of women. The wives
pointedly ignored the high-class hookers and mistresses, and the younger, sexier women
shot superior looks at the wives. The object of the ambitious young women’s game was
to collect as many men and expensive gifts as they could during their stay, purchased at
the many expensive boutiques crowded along the streets of Courchevel. There was
Chanel, Dior, Cartier, Van Cleef, Hermès, and a multitude of jewelers. The mistresses
won all the prizes during their stay, some of which they sold afterward for the money.
And the wives got to keep the men, and the lifestyle that went with them. Many of the
women in the more glamorous category would never see the men again, if they had been
hired or invited just for the trip. It was a lucrative pastime for the sexy girls, as
Dominique called them to Bill, and he laughed at her descriptions, guesses, and
interpretations. The wives usually didn’t go home with any prizes or monetary reward,
but they had a nice vacation with their husbands, and they had their status as respectable
married women to keep them warm.
“So are you my sexy girl?” Bill asked her as he sat next to her on the couch and
kissed her neck and sent a thrill rippling through her.
“Whatever you’d like,” she said, teasing him, and he suddenly wanted her
desperately. They hadn’t ordered dinner yet and he no longer cared. She was much more
appealing than any meal. They had all the time they wanted to make love. He didn’t
have to leave, go to work, or get home. He had two full weeks with her, which was a
vast luxury to both of them, and especially precious since it was only once a year.
He led her to the bedroom then and took her clothes off while she undressed him
sensuously and slowly, and they slipped between the perfectly pressed sheets on the
enormous bed, and made love with all the luxury of time, and the joy of being together.
It was late when it was over, and Bill said he was ravenous. Dominique was dozing
and sated when he ordered dinner, and she woke up and put on a thick brand-new hotel
terry cloth robe to join him at dinner in the living room of their suite. She had only
ordered soup and a salad, which was enough for her. Bill had ordered a hearty meal,
and leaned over and kissed her again when the waiter had left the suite after setting up
the dining table. It was always a luxurious experience being there, and a treat for both of
them.
“I love making love to you,” he said in a husky voice, admiring her. Her efforts to
stay in shape paid off, she had the body of a much younger woman, and he was in good
shape too. He played tennis and squash at his club three times a week, which was a
grueling routine.
“So can I stay the full two weeks?” she asked with a grin. “You’re not going to trade
me in for one of the other sexy girls?”
“Not in a million years. I’m keeping you. What was your name again?” he teased her
back.
“Brunhilde,” she said innocently, and ate her salad. He had ordered an excellent
bottle of wine to go with the meal, and they sat in front of the fire afterward, talking.
They had all the time in the world while they were there. They had both slept on the
flight so they weren’t tired, and the meal had energized them. It was one in the morning
by then.
“I should call my mother,” she said, glancing at the clock on the mantel. “It’s too late
now, I’ll call her tomorrow. She likes knowing when I’m on the same side of the world
as she is.” She had no intention of calling her daughters and intruding on them, and she
didn’t expect to hear from them. But Marie-Aurélie was older and alone, and
Dominique felt it her responsibility to call her and check in.
They went to bed a little while later, after room service came to remove the plates
and Bill finished his wine.
She lay peacefully in his arms as she fell asleep that night, cuddled up next to him.
When they woke up in the morning to bright sunlight pouring into the room, they could
see the mountain squarely in front of them through the window. It looked like a postcard
or a photograph. They both smiled when they saw it and Bill leaned over and kissed
her.
“That’s a mighty pretty sight,” he said, “and so are you.” She got out of bed naked,
and slipped the robe back on that she had left next to the bed, and she went to run a bath
while he ordered breakfast. He got in the bath with her, and they got out together half an
hour later when the breakfast arrived. He had ordered a hearty breakfast since they
would be skiing all day, and they were both eager to get to the slopes. They were going
to take the shuttle bus to one valley over, where they knew the trails were harder, since
they’d been there before.
An hour later, they’d eaten breakfast, dressed, and had their ski equipment, which
they would leave downstairs for the rest of the trip. The first day was always exciting,
to see how the snow was, and get back in the groove of skiing together. They were a
good match. He was a powerful, excellent skier, and her style had a little more finesse
but she was just as competent on the slopes as he was. They loved skiing together,
which was why they came back every year. Dominique’s children were proficient skiers
too. She had taken them skiing frequently when they were young, and got them lessons.
Tommy had been on a racing team in college. She skied almost as fast as Bill as they
completed their first run, and had time for another one before lunch. They finished the
morning with a feeling of freedom and victory. She was wearing a white fur hat and a
white parka, with black ski pants, and she looked very elegant and graceful as she skied
alongside him and had no trouble keeping up with him. He tried to race her a few times,
but she was as fast as he was.
“I almost beat you on the last run,” she boasted, and laughed as she said it.
“That’s just because I let you,” he said smugly, and she pushed him gently as they
took off their skis, put them in a rack outside the restaurant, and walked in.
The restaurant was noisy and busy at lunchtime, with people crowded at almost
every table. The hostess found them a table where they could watch the crowd come and
go. And an hour later, they were back on the chairlift for another run. They managed
three before they gave up for the day. It had been a heavily athletic day and they had
skied hard. They were both pleasantly tired when they got back on the shuttle bus to the
hotel.
Dominique had called her mother that morning, and called her again when they got
back to their room. She sounded fine, and said she was busy doing something on her
computer and trying to figure out how it worked, which made Dominique smile. Her
mother was not adept with technology but willing to learn. Her granddaughters had tried
to help her several times, and Tommy too.
“Dinner in or out tonight?” Bill asked her, and she was tempted to stay in again, she
was tired and it had been a challenging day. But she thought she should make an effort
for him.
“Out? If you want. I’m happy either way.”
“I like going out with you,” he admitted. “I love showing you off.” He looked boyish
as he said it.
“I love showing off with you too.” It made her feel like a couple to go out with him,
as if he belonged to her and wasn’t just borrowed. They looked like a married couple,
given their ages, and they seemed so well suited to each other, and at ease.
They booked a table in the hotel restaurant, so they didn’t have to bother putting
boots on. She wore white slacks, a white sweater, and high heels, and he wore slacks, a
black turtleneck sweater, and a black cashmere blazer. Heads turned as the headwaiter
walked them to their table. They were a striking couple, and she was wearing a pair of
gold and diamond cuffs Bill had given her, and she loved, with diamond studs in her
ears. He was happy to see her wear them. He loved spoiling her and knowing she
enjoyed his gifts. Eileen had never worn anything he had given her, and had finally
admitted to him that she didn’t like jewelry, which made sense since she never wore
any. She thought it looked too showy, but Dominique knew just how to wear it, enough
to look chic, but never too much. Unlike her daughter-in-law Marlene, who looked like
an overdecorated Christmas tree when she went to Hollywood events with Tommy, in
sexy gowns with too much jewelry.
Dinner in the hotel dining room was excellent, and like every restaurant in
Courchevel, it was crowded and noisy, with the beautiful women and the plainer wives,
large groups and smaller ones. It was fun people-watching, and Dominique made Bill
laugh about them. They walked through the lobby afterward, and then went back to their
room, sat by the fire for a while, and wound up back in bed shortly after, making love. It
was the perfect end to a perfect day.
Felicity and Taylor had a good day on the slopes at Sugarbush too. They ran into friends
and skied with them for a while. Taylor was a competitive skier and loved racing
everyone. He skied faster than Felicity, but she was an excellent skier. She just didn’t
like to push herself as hard or take the risks that he did. But he was equal to the
challenges he set for himself. He introduced her as his fiancée to the people she didn’t
know. He was very proud of it, and it touched her.
Their days skiing together were fun, but their evenings were less entertaining than
Dominique’s in Courchevel. The senior Whitfields expected them to dine with them
every night, which made for painful evenings, struggling to find subjects of common
interest. What they preferred was gossiping about the people they had seen that day, and
Elizabeth loved knowing little gossipy tidbits about them. Felicity found it tiresome
listening to her. Taylor liked gossiping too, but he was more charitable than his mother.
Taylor and Felicity provided a captive audience for her, since her husband didn’t seem
to listen to anything she said. He had learned to tune her out and concentrate on his
dinner. He rarely contributed to the conversation.
Felicity asked Taylor if they could dine out one night and he said he thought it would
be rude to his parents, so she was stuck with them every evening. They were in bed by
nine o’clock, and Taylor was eager to make love to her, and was more athletic than
usual. She felt lonely being there alone with him and his parents, with no one else to talk
to. She missed talking to her mother and sister, who were hard to reach in exotic
locations in foreign time zones, so she didn’t try, but by the end of the first week, she
felt as though she’d been there for a month with no one to talk to. They skied all day and
Taylor didn’t talk to her at night, he just wanted to have sex and fall asleep the moment
he finished. It hadn’t been a terrific vacation so far, although the snow was great. They
were going to spend New Year’s Eve with Elizabeth and Phillip, although they’d been
invited to dinner by friends nearby, which Taylor declined so as not to offend his
parents. Felicity felt as though she was marrying them as the days went by.
Jamie and Violet were having the perfect vacation in St. Barth. They were staying at the
Cheval Blanc on Flamands Bay, with a heavy discount and Jamie’s promise to get them
a mention in the press. In exchange they had a private villa with its own pool, and were
languishing in total luxury with a butler to serve them, in perfect cloudless weather.
They sunbathed naked and made love whenever they wanted. The butler only came
when they rang for him, and the rest of the time, they had total privacy in exquisite
surroundings. It was paradise, and Violet loved being with him. They talked a lot, and
made each other laugh. Jamie had a sharp mind and a great sense of humor and she was
an even match for him, and he loved making love whenever they wanted on vacation. He
was a passionate and considerate lover, and it was impossible not to be happy in the
luxurious accommodations he had gotten for them. Violet felt like a princess in a fairy
tale, “or a high-class porn movie,” she said, and he laughed. “Do you realize we made
love four times yesterday?” she said as they lay by their pool, having just made love
again.
“I wasn’t counting,” he said, “but now that you mention it, I think it was five or six.
Are you complaining?” he asked innocently. “Should it be more?”
“Only if you want to kill me. I’ve never made love as often as that in a week, let
alone a day.”
“It seemed about right to me,” he said, grinning, and put a hand on her breast, and
she slipped gracefully into the pool, and swam away to tease him. He jumped in and
followed her, cornering her at the steps on the far end, and she could see that he was
aroused again. She dove under the water, and put her lips around him, and after a few
minutes came up for air. He gently pulled her toward him, and they made love on the
steps in the water. “I think you’re putting an aphrodisiac in my food,” he said in a husky
voice after he came. “I’ve never made love this often either.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Definitely not. I think we’re setting world records here,” he said, as they got out of
the water, went back to their lounge chairs, and lay down next to each other. He was
smiling at her and looked like a happy man. “You’re an amazing woman, Vi. Not just the
sex, I mean everything you do, you’re smart, you’re fun, you’re brave. I’m never bored
with you for a minute.”
“Yeah, me neither,” she admitted, “with you. I’ve never been seriously in love with
anyone, but I think I might be with you,” she said hesitantly.
“Only might be? Oh God, how many times a day do we have to make love for you to
be sure?”
She looked pensive for a minute. “Maybe twenty? That sounds about right.”
“You’re a monster,” he said, and leaned over and kissed her. “I’ve never tried to
find the perfect woman, but I think you may be it.”
“You’re pretty cool too. So what are we doing tonight?”
“Let’s go dancing,” he said with a grin. “I saw a samba bar the other day. That
would be fun.” He knew she liked to dance and so did he. He was having the most fun
he’d ever had with anyone on vacation, or at any other time. He was crazy about her,
and knew without a doubt that she was the one, but he didn’t say it to her. He didn’t
want to frighten her. She always said she didn’t want to get too serious, but Jamie
already had. And he hoped she would too.
Dominique and Bill decided to spend New Year’s Eve quietly in their room, without
hordes of people around them. All the bars and restaurants would be crazy that night,
and everyone would be drunk. They loved the idea of spending it quietly together. They
had another week together after that, and Dominique didn’t want to waste a minute of
their time alone. On the stroke of midnight, they were making love, oblivious to the time
and the sound of horns and noisemakers outside. They were in ecstasy in each other’s
arms. It was the perfect way to start a new year. They heard the fireworks after they
made love, and went to the window to peek at them exploding in showers of brilliant
colors in the sky.
“Happy New Year, my darling love,” he said to her, and kissed her again. “I hope
it’s a perfect year for us.” She nodded and kissed him back, and had nothing to add to it,
except a wish to see more of him. But everything they had at that moment was all she
wanted, and she whispered to him.
“I love you, Bill.”
“I love you too,” he said, and they went back to bed in a brand-new year that
belonged to them as it began.
Taylor and Felicity made love on New Year’s Eve, after dinner with his parents, and he
was sound asleep long before midnight. Felicity couldn’t sleep, and sat on the window
seat in their room, looking out at the stars in the sky. She knew she loved him, and his
serious, traditional ways, but there were so many more things she wanted to do with
him. Dance and laugh and go to Paris, and walk around the city on a warm night. She
wanted to have fun with him, not be trapped with his parents for their holidays and
vacations. She wondered if he would want to continue that after they were married. It
had never occurred to her before to ask him. She didn’t want to be rude about his
parents, but they were total bores, and she wanted to be married to him, not them. She
had finally gotten used to the idea of being married sooner than she’d planned, but she
wanted to be sure that she was marrying him and not his family. It had suddenly become
an important question in her mind after the past week with them. It was stifling having
dinner with them every night, though Taylor seemed to enjoy it, and wanted her to enjoy
it too.
When midnight came, she was sitting alone, looking out the window, wishing she
were somewhere else in the world like her mother and sister and brother, not in
Vermont with Taylor’s parents. She didn’t know how to say it to him, but she thought she
should, to make sure that this wasn’t the life he had in mind. She slipped quietly back
into bed, beside him, and looked at him sound asleep. “Happy New Year,” she
whispered to him, and wondered what the coming year would bring.
Jamie and Violet went back to the samba bar that night for the second time. They danced
until they couldn’t dance another step, and then they went to a disco down the street with
French music. They had a drink and danced to old Charles Aznavour songs, and went
back to their villa. Jamie poured them each a glass of champagne at their pool. They had
given the butler the night off.
They sat down and looked up at the stars in the sky, and when she looked at him, he
was smiling at her. He looked like the happiest man on earth. And she felt the same way.
He was smiling because he knew he was going to do something with her that he had
never done before, if she was willing.
“You look like you have a secret,” Violet said, grinning at him. He wasn’t drunk, but
they’d both had several rum drinks, and were happy enough.
“I want to do something special with you tonight,” he said seriously. She looked
worried for a minute.
“If it involves video or photographs, forget it,” she said firmly, and he laughed.
“It doesn’t, but that’s not a bad idea.”
“Yeah, not with me, Bozo. You’re a sex addict,” she accused him jokingly.
“If I am, it’s all your fault. I think you put a spell on me.” He kissed her after he said
it, and she didn’t resist him. She was totally at ease with him. They shared a kind of
bond and trust that she had never had with anyone else.
Then he rolled off his deck chair with an easy gesture, and was on his knee next to
her, and spoke earnestly, looking straight into her eyes. “Violet Walker, I love you. Will
you marry me?” She was totally shocked for a minute and couldn’t speak, and after he
said it, he took something out of his pocket and put a huge ring on her finger. It looked
like a joke of some kind and she thought he was kidding.
“Holy shit, for a minute, I thought you meant it. What is that thing?” She looked at the
huge ring on her finger, laughing, but he stayed serious.
“I do mean it. That’s an exact replica of a World Series MVP ring. It’s real gold and
diamonds. I bought it because it’s so beautiful, and now I know I’ve been saving it for
you.” He had tears in his eyes and she stared at him, with the ring still on her finger.
“You can’t mean it, Jamie. You don’t mean it. It would ruin everything between us. I
told you I don’t ever want to get married. My grandparents weren’t married and they
loved each other. My grandmother still loves him almost fifty years after he died. My
parents were married and hate each other. My father has always been a jerk to my
mother, he dates twenty-two-year-olds with big tits and no brains. Marriage ruins
everything. I love you too, but I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to marry anyone. I
want to be like my grandmother.”
“Then let’s get engaged to love each other forever and never get married. How
would that work for you?”
She thought about it for a minute and looked at him. “Do people do that? Does that
sound too stupid?”
“Who cares? I just want to know that there is something more between us, an
agreement, a commitment.” He looked sheepish then. “And you can have a real
engagement ring if you want. I just brought that with me kind of as a starter. It probably
looks dumb to you.”
“No, it doesn’t. I love it,” she said, smiling at him. “I went steady with a boy in
seventh grade for a week, and he gave me his Captain Video Decoder Ring. It was very
cool, and I had to wrap a Band-Aid around the back so it fit. He took it back after a
week when he fell in love with my best friend.”
“The idiot,” Jamie said, and smiled at her. “You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met.
We can get it sized for you if you really like it.” They both looked at it on her hand and
it was enormous, but she smiled at him and looked like a child when she did. She was
all innocence and love.
“I think it’s really beautiful. I love it. Do you think we should get engaged—to not
get married?”
“I do. The first part anyway. I’ve never loved anyone like I do you, Violet. I would
love to marry you. Or not marry you until you change your mind about it. And I’d love to
be engaged.”
“I want you to meet my grandmother,” she said. They’d never been to Paris together,
so he’d never met Marie-Aurélie in the two years they’d dated. “She’s the best. I’ve
always wanted to be like her. She’s very wise. She knows more about life than anyone I
know. My grandfather was married to someone else, and she was his mistress. Her
family never spoke to her again because of it. They were aristocrats with no money, and
they thought she disgraced them. She never regretted being my grandfather’s mistress.
He acknowledged my mother legally, but he and my grandmother never married. And his
wife died after he did. I think there was a lot of that in France in those days. It was a
Catholic country, and there was no divorce, especially among fancy people.”
“What would your mother think of my family? They’re not fancy. You know them,”
he said, worried.
“They’re good people, they’re honest, and they’re real. I love them. And I love you,”
she said softly. “And maybe I’d like to be married to you one day. I just don’t want to
plan a wedding now. I hate weddings. My sister’s wedding at the Met already sounds
like a nightmare. A lot of phony people showing off. I can’t stand her future husband.”
Jamie had already met Taylor and wasn’t impressed. One of the things he loved most
about Violet was that she was real. Whatever her reasons for not wanting to be married,
whether fear or admiration for her unconventional grandmother, he was willing to be
engaged to her, with no imminent plan for marriage, or maybe ever. As long as they
stayed together, and loved each other, that was all he wanted.
“So are we engaged?” he asked her cautiously. It hadn’t gone the way he wanted, but
it wasn’t all bad.
“I think we are,” she said, smiling at him. “I need a Band-Aid for my ring to make it
fit, before it’s official.”
“Hang on a sec,” Jamie said, and walked into the villa to the bathroom he was using,
reached for his Dopp kit, and pulled out a box of Band-Aids. He had bought a box of
Incredible Hulk kids’ Band-Aids as a joke. He took three out of the box and went back
to where Violet was sitting, gazing up at the sky. He sat down next to her, slid the ring
gently off her finger, and wound the Band-Aids around the back of it until it was small
enough to fit her. It took all three. He put the ring back on her finger then, and it looked
like a giant gold turtle sitting on her hand. It was nearly the size of a golf ball cut in half.
She looked at it proudly after he finished.
“It’s perfect,” she said happily. “Way better than the Captain Video Decoder Ring
that jerk took back. They met again after college, and they actually got married, and
they’re still stuck together and have two kids, so maybe Captain Video brought them
luck.”
“I love you, Violet,” Jamie said, and kissed her gently on the lips. It had been an
emotional night for both of them. “You’re the most valuable player on my team, so
you’re wearing that ring righteously. And you’re a bigger deal to me than the World
Series.” She looked at the ring again and smiled at him.
“I think it’s beautiful,” she said. “I love it.” It suited her. It was crazy and unusual,
and beautiful, just like she was.
It had been a big night for both of them, and it hadn’t turned out as he’d expected, but
they were engaged in their own special oddball way. Engaged to not be married. He
wasn’t sure how he’d explain it to his family, but they were crazy enough themselves to
understand, and they loved Violet.
“I don’t think I want kids,” she said as she looked at him, “but if I ever did, I
wouldn’t mind having them without being married, like my grandmother did with my
mother.” But they hadn’t had a choice, her grandfather was married to someone else.
Jamie wasn’t, and he still wanted to marry her. He was hoping to convince her
eventually, but she wasn’t ready for that yet, and he wanted to respect that, because he
loved her.
“We can figure that out later,” he said gently. Then he looked at his watch. It was
twelve-twenty. “Well, we missed the stroke of midnight. Happy New Year, Violet,” he
said, and kissed her. It was a long, heartfelt kiss with all of his love for her, and hers for
him.
“Happy New Year,” she whispered back. They went into the villa then, to celebrate
their engagement. There was nothing traditional about it, or about her, but they had
managed to create something that worked for them. She kept her World Series ring on
while they made love, with the Incredible Hulk Band-Aids to keep it in place. She
could get it sized later and she liked it just the way it was. They were engaged, and it
was the happiest night of Jamie’s life. He had found the love of his life, his soul mate.