Son of Stone

44

S tone and his party took the big round table at the rear for their party of seven: Dino, Ben, Peter, Hattie, Hattie’s parents-Sean and Margaret Patrick-and Stone. He seated himself between the parents. The chat was immediately warm and friendly, and it was clear to Stone that he and Arrington would get along as well with Sean and Margaret as Peter and Hattie were getting along.

They covered all the usual ground: Sean had emigrated from Ireland as a twenty-one-year-old graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, and had gone to work for a stockbroker. He was in business for himself at thirty and was, judging from the size of his hedge fund, very wealthy. Margaret was an Irish-American music student when they met, and it was she who had taught Hattie all her early piano.

“You must be very proud of Hattie’s gifts,” Stone said to her.

“Oh, yes!” Margaret replied. “I’m sorry she doesn’t want to pursue a concert career, because that way I could follow her around and listen to her play all the time.”

“I’ve heard some of the music she’s composed for Peter’s film, and I was very impressed with it.”

“I understand your mother was a very fine painter,” she said.

“Yes, she was,” Stone replied, “and my father was an artist, too, but he expressed himself in wood. I hope you’ll come to my house soon and see some of his work.”

“We’d love to.”

“My wife, Arrington, is in Virginia at the moment, moving into a house she has just built. She asked me to invite the three of you to her housewarming next Saturday night. We’ll fly down on Friday afternoon in my airplane and return on Sunday afternoon or Monday morning, if you can take that much time.”

“What a delightful invitation!” Margaret said. She leaned forward and explained it to Sean.

“Sounds great!” Sean said.

“We’ll meet at Teterboro Airport, at Jet Aviation, at two p.m.,” Stone said, “and there’ll be room for everyone to stay in the house. The party on Saturday night is black tie, and the rest of the time is very casual. There are horses to ride, or tennis if you like.”

“We’ll all look forward to it,” she said.

“We’ll look forward to having you,” Stone replied, winking at Peter, who had hung on their every word. Peter beamed, and so did Hattie.

Dino leaned across the table. “Ben’s getting time off from school so he can come down, too. We’re flying down with Mike Freeman and Bill Eggers.”

“Perfect,” Stone called back. “I was getting short of seats in the Mustang. We’ve got one more, if Ben wants to ride with Peter and Hattie.”

Ben nodded.

“Just be at my house at one o’clock,” Stone said to the boy, “and don’t forget your tuxedo.”

The evening turned out to be a smashing success, and Stone felt that he and Arrington had made their first new friends.

On Monday afternoon Stone took Peter to the Ralph Lauren store on Madison and got him a tuxedo. It surprised him that the boy had moved up a size and from regular to long, and that the new size fit him perfectly. Stone found a tweed hacking jacket for himself in another department, and then they went downtown to a riding equipment store, where Stone bought riding boots, socks, and the tight-fitting pants that Arrington had requested. All their new gear would be delivered in time for their departure.

Kelli Keane woke early at David Rutledge’s loft downtown and crept out of bed so as not to wake him. She had been there since Saturday night. She tiptoed to the beautiful bathroom, with its twin sinks, shower, tub, and bidet in a space as large as the bedroom in her apartment. He had done a spectacular job of transforming the formerly industrial space into a large duplex apartment of more than six thousand square feet.

She was in the middle of her shower when David joined her, and she was tall enough that they could easily make love standing up. She had lost track of how many times they had done it-or something-since Saturday night. David had left very little room for expansion in her repertoire. She was getting the feeling that this one was a keeper, and she had not been previously acquainted with that feeling. Take it easy, she said to herself, and see how it goes.

She scrambled some eggs for them, and he ate them hungrily.

“You’re the first woman ever to spend a whole weekend in this apartment,” David said.

“I don’t believe that for a moment.”

“I’ve only been in it for five weeks.”

“I still don’t believe it,” she said.

He laughed. “Next weekend really ought to be fun. Oh, and by the way, the boss has sprung for the company jet, so we won’t have to fly the airlines. It’s always a pain in the ass when you have half a dozen cases of photographic equipment, plus personal luggage.”

“That’s great news,” she said.

“A car will pick you up at seven Friday morning. That way, we’ll have most of the day to work and the following morning, as well.”

“Are we going to get an invitation to the big do on Saturday night?” she asked.

“We’ll just have to see if that happens,” he said, “but you might bring a suitable dress, just in case. It’s a dressy event.”

“I can do that,” she said.

“If you’re free this evening, I’ll cook us some dinner.”

“Oh, you cook, too? My God!”

“And bring your toothbrush,” he said, smiling.

At work, Kelli made a beeline to Prunella Wheaton’s office. Prunie poured her a cup of coffee. “I hear you had a very pleasant weekend,” she said knowingly.

“How did you know?”

“Sweetie, you’re going to have to get used to the idea that I know everything. No one can hide anything from me, if I really want to find out.”

“I believe you, Prunie,” Kelli said. “Yes, it was a wonderful weekend. That apartment!”

“Well, he trained as an architect,” she said, “and he does work at Architectural Digest, doesn’t he? He has to hold up his end, and the staff there always know where to find the most beautiful things.”

“I’ve never known a man with that kind of taste and style,” Kelli said. “You wouldn’t believe the state of most men’s living quarters these days.”

“I expect it’s not much worse than when I was your age,” Prunie said, “and it’s probably much better!”