Part 28 (1/2)
He got out of bed bragging, ”I make delicious eggs Benedict.”
Thank you, Jesus.
Chapter Twenty.
A Daughter's Goodbye May 23 Upper East Side, New York City Jose had driven alongside Seventy-Ninth Street through Central Park to her parents' building while anxiety cooled Taddy's thoughts. The Brillfords resided in the San Remo, a twenty-seven-story luxury high-rise, home to Manhattan's elite. Staffed with servants and guards, the building was primed for celebrities who sought privacy in the Big Apple.
The summer Taddy's b.a.s.t.a.r.d child rumors had circulated, she'd overheard San Remo's doorman discussing Irma's past affair. They'd mentioned she'd fallen in love with another man in the building. Notable residents at the time included Steven Spielberg, Bruce Willis and music band U2's lead singer Bono. She'd created a birthfather list in her head but conceded that no one could replace her dad, Joseph Graf. Maybe he couldn't love her as his own but she'd always loved him.
Taddy glanced out the Cadillac's window, feeling Warner resting his face against the back of her neck.
”You okay?”
”I hope to be.” She turned to look at him and kissed his cheek. Then she sat forward to talk to her driver. ”Jose, this is it.”
Jose pulled up front, parked the SUV and opened the door for her and Warner. ”Good luck, Miss Brill.”
”Thank you. I'll call when we're leaving for you to come back around.” Drawing her sungla.s.ses up into her hair, she noticed Warner staring at her. He was worried.
”Come here.” He hugged her and whispered in her ear, ”I'll help you through this, as much as you want me to.”
”I can lean on you?” she asked.
”Yes.”
”Any final advice before we go in?”
”Listen to what your mother has to say. Focus on what she says.”
”I intend to.”
”We can leave whenever you're ready.” His arms cinched tight around her waist.
Having a guy with her for emotional support was new for her. It felt pretty d.a.m.n good. Taddy hoped to get used to having Warner at her side. He gave the doorman their names, and he buzzed them up.
When the elevator doors opened, Taddy smelled a familiar cleansing agent the maids wiped the walls with. Built in the 1930s with mediocre ventilation, the staff used tea tree oil was used to keep the building fresh. She stared at the double doors for a minute. The sign read ”26EFG”. The cooperative occupied three units. Half in eagerness, half in terror, she rang the bell. Her pulse throbbed as childhood memories came back to her.
Taddy did her best to drop the self-preserving defenses she'd used in the past so she could remain open to whatever her mother wanted to talk to her about. Standing in this building felt awkward but she had missed her home. How could they have let so much time elapse? Why had they done this? Maybe soon she'd have the answers she finally longed for. And maybe then the hole she'd felt in her heart would finally be filled.
When she rang the doorbell a second time, she could hear the chimes on the other side echoing through the penthouse. The door opened and, to her surprise, Mr. Constance wasn't the one to greet them.
Countess Irma stood before her.
Irma must've been about five foot two. Her mother's fingers fluttered around her collarbone as if she was uncertain whether she should offer a hug or a handshake. ”Tabitha Adelaide...” She put her arms out for an embrace, as much as she could. Taddy felt it was cold and lacking, but it was a start.
Her mother wasn't as she'd imagined. Irma barely resembled the woman Taddy remembered. Somehow she'd shrunk. Irma was flat-chested, her body frail and her face sunken. Her black eyes had hollowed, reflecting her emptiness.
Obviously, Irma didn't subscribe to the cosmetic surgical maintenance procedures Birdie used to keep up. Sure, Irma wore designer clothes, certainly this season's Escada. Her makeup was caked into a mask, a perfect illusion. Underneath her overpriced clothes and t.i.tanium dioxide face were many imperfections. Nothing a beauty day could fix or cover. Her pain felt palpable to Taddy.
Unsure what to call her, Taddy said, ”Mom, this is Warner.”
A soft gasp escaped from Irma's lips.
Taddy deflected any attention from herself. She wasn't comfortable with her mother looking her up and down. Everything suddenly felt even more awkward.
Warner and her mother shook hands.
Irma escorted them into the front living room.
She wasn't surprised to see the home was decorated much like a showroom. It was cold and sterile and didn't reflect any warmth. Everything was just to impress those looking in from the outside. There were no pictures from her childhood. Nothing in the home spoke of family, not the kind she once knew. She wondered if they'd been happy before Irma's affair began.
”Where's Dad?”
”Germany. Joseph's speaking at a conference for work in Heidelberg.”
”Did you tell him you invited me here?”
”No.”
They sat in silence. Irma pushed a teapot forward. It was a china pattern that reflected a delicate gold tree branch. Taddy couldn't take her eyes off it. She remembered the service set from her childhood. The bone china had yellowed in places it shouldn't. Taddy hugged her Birkin bag, putting distance between them.
”You okay?” Warner whispered in her ear and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. She nodded.
Irma poured them each a cup. ”I caught you on the news. You've grown into such a beauty, Tabitha Adelaide.”
”I'll be thirty before I know it.”
”Where does Taddy's middle name come from?” Warner asked.
”Her middle name came from a friend in the building. A Texas natural-gas heiress named Adelaide de Menil.”
”How is Miss de Menil?” Taddy asked. That woman had been a force in the photography world and had showed her and Lex how to take pictures.
”We stopped speaking years ago, when the Eastons left the building.”
Birdie and Eddie had moved downtown. Claiming they wanted to relive their youth, they'd bought a loft in Soho. With Eddie always on tour and Lex in boarding school, Birdie despised living in such a ma.s.sive penthouse. She'd also stated, on numerous occasions, that she hated the Upper West Side snootiness.
”Makes sense.” Taddy shrugged. Her mother didn't have many, if any, friends left to keep her company, except m.u.f.fie.
”m.u.f.fs always talks about your PR firm. Your aunt is so proud of you.”
Taddy figured her mother would start with small talk.
”I didn't realize just how successful you'd become.”
”I enjoy it.”