Memories of a Marriage by Louis Begley Read Free Book Online

and carried our plates and glasses to the dining room.
    I suppose you’ve been seeing her, said Lucy after we sat down. Don’t ask who: of course I mean her, Jane the celebrity! She’s probably interviewed you, so at least you have a professional reason to be polite. She seems to entertain on a grand scale. I follow it on Page Six. That’s what he always wanted. Café society. Jamie goes to dinner there every time he comes to New York even if he brings the Chicana, and they stayed with them while Thomas was alive. Do you think it’s right for her to invite him now that Thomas is dead? I think it’s tactless and cruel, rubbing in all her advantages.
    She added: I suppose she invites you all the time.
    I couldn’t help laughing and told her I doubted that Jane even knew I was in the city.
    You had better let her know before she goes to the Hamptons for the summer, Lucy continued. That’s if you want to be invited. Or interviewed!
    She still has her house out there? I asked. As you see, I don’t really keep up.
    It’s his house, Lucy corrected me, she had the good sense not to marry him until he was rich. Yes, she’s kept the house and cavorts with my old friends, people he met through me.People he met in Little Compton too, not only the city and Hamptons crowd!
    Perhaps because she could no longer disregard the look of growing distress on my face, she stopped the onslaught abruptly. After a moment of silence, she said, All right, I can tell you want me to shut up. In that case why don’t you pour me some wine and put the rest of the chicken and rice on the table.
    I did as I was told, and for some minutes we ate and drank in peace. Since she made no move to clear the table after we had finished, I took the plates and platters into the kitchen and came back with the dessert plates, the cheese, and the tart.
    That’s good, she said. Don’t bother about the dishes. The maid comes in the morning.
    She didn’t take coffee or tea except for breakfast. It made her too nervous. But the coffeemaker worked, and if I wanted coffee there was a can of Medaglia d’Oro in the refrigerator. Making coffee in her kitchen was just about the last thing I wanted. I decided I’d say goodbye right after dessert.
    No coffee for me either, I replied. I have a lot of work and have to make this an early evening.
    She took that in, pursing her lips and nodding. Well, well, well, she said. You act surprised to hear how bad things were between Thomas and me. I find it difficult to believe that you didn’t see what a rotten marriage it was and that you didn’t see it coming. Didn’t you know that I should have never married him? Never! Would you like to know why? I supposeyou don’t care. You didn’t care back then, and you don’t care now. You just found it amusing, in your perverse way. Why not? You had a front-row seat at the undoing of Miss Lucy De Bourgh. Just the kind of story you like. I should have seen through you.
    I said all that was perfect nonsense. I liked her; I had been her friend then and still was. To the extent I had had a tangential connection with the events she was talking about—really limited to meeting Thomas when she introduced him to me in Paris—it was ancient history of which I had only a dim recollection. Afterward, in New York, when she and Thomas were still together, our contacts had been superficial. A small number of perfectly pleasant dinners or drinks. That was all!
    Well, well, well, she said once again. So you think that’s all you know. Would you like to know more? Hear my story to satisfy your professional curiosity? Aren’t decadent New England families a subject that interests you? You’ve made money writing about us.
    I nodded and said, Of course.
    It’s a long story, she replied, but it’s not dull, and I have plenty of time on my hands. We can start now.
    I glanced at my watch. It was past ten. Did she think she had to nail me down right then and there because otherwise I’d never