One Fifth Avenue - Candace Bushnell [206]
“Come upstairs and tell me about it,” Annalisa called to her below.
In a few minutes, Enid arrived on the terrace, panting slightly as she fanned the air in front of her face. “It’s so hot. I can’t believe how hot it is for September. They say it’s going to be ninety degrees on Saturday. And we’ll probably have a thunderstorm.”
“We’ll be fine,” Annalisa said. “We have the tent and the whole apartment. I’ve cleared out most of Paul’s things from the ballroom, so we’ll have that space as well.”
“How is Paul?” Enid asked, by rote.
“Exactly the same,” Annalisa said. As she always did when she spoke about Paul, she lowered her voice and solemnly shook her head. “I saw him this morning.”
“My dear, I don’t know how you can bear it,” Enid said.
“There’s always the slight chance that he’ll recover. They say miracles do occur.”
“Then he could end up being another Stephen Hawking,” Enid said reassuringly, patting Annalisa on the arm.
“I’ve decided to donate money to the facility for a wing in Paul’s name. Even if Paul never comes out of the coma, it’s possible, in ten years, someone with similar injuries will.”
“It’s the right thing to do, my dear,” Enid said, nodding approvingly. “And you still go to see him every day. It’s so admirable.”
“It’s only thirty minutes by helicopter,” Annalisa said, moving into the cool of the apartment. “But tell me all about Sandy.”
“Well,” Enid said, taking a large breath equal to the importance of her news. “He’s been sentenced to five years.”
“That’s terrible.”
“The prosecutor wanted to make an example of him. He’ll serve less time, I’m sure. Maybe two and a half years. Then he’ll get out, and everyone will forget about it. They always do. What I don’t understand is how Sandy Brewer got the cross in the first place.”
“Don’t you know?” Annalisa asked.
“No, my dear. I don’t.”
“Come with me,” Annalisa said. “I have something to show you.”
She led Enid upstairs to the master bedroom. There, on the top of her bureau, was the crude wooden box Mrs. Houghton had left Billy. “Do you recognize this?” Annalisa asked, opening the lid. She took out the jewelry she’d bought from Mrs. Houghton’s estate and, pointing to the hinge at the back, held out the box to Enid. “It has a false bottom,” she said.
“Oh my goodness,” Enid said, taking the box and examining it. “So that’s where she kept it.” She handed the box back to Annalisa. “That would be very Louise. Hiding it in plain sight. How did you get the box, dear?”
“Schiffer gave it to me. After the King David gala. She was moved by what I said about Billy, and she insisted I take it.”
“But how did she get it?”
Annalisa smiled. “You don’t know that, either? She took it from Billy’s apartment on the day she found him.”
“Clever girl,” Enid said. “I’m so happy she and Philip are marrying at last.”
“Let’s go upstairs,” Annalisa said. “I want you to see the ballroom.”
“Oh my dear, it’s marvelous,” Enid exclaimed, passing through the large double doors. The floor had been restored to its original black-and-white marble checkerboard, the aquarium was gone, and the marble mantelpiece was newly polished, revealing the intricate carvings telling the story of the goddess Athena. Luckily, Paul had never touched the ceiling, so the painting of sky and cherubs still remained. Scattered around the room were little tables and chairs and vases filled with sprays of white lilies and lilacs. The room smelled heavenly, and strolling to the fireplace, Enid examined the detailed carvings. “Wonderful,” she said, nodding in approval. “You’ve done so much in such a short period of time.”
“I’m very efficient,” Annalisa replied. “And of course, I needed something to keep me busy. After Paul’s accident. It still isn’t appropriate to be seen out in public.”
“Oh no, my dear,” Enid said. “Not for another six months, at least. But a private affair in your own apartment is a different story. And it’s only seventy-five people.”
“I did invite Mindy and James Gooch. And Sam,” Annalisa said. “I