She Wanted It All - Kathryn Casey [37]
Days after he dropped the divorce, Steve put the house up for sale. The plan was that they’d live at the lake house while he built a new home. To friends, he said Celeste saw the house as Elise’s, not hers. He wanted her to have a home of her own.
In September, Richard Oppel relocated from D.C., where he’d been Washington bureau chief for Knight Ridder newspapers, to take the editor’s job at the Austin American Statesman, the city’s daily. Oppel and his wife, Carol, drove by the house and jotted down the address. The following day they were waiting on the doorstep with their realtor when the door swung open and Celeste glared at them. After persuading Steve to sell, she didn’t want to give the house up.
“Go away. We don’t want to sell,” she snapped.
The realtor argued, “It’s listed on the market, and I made an appointment.”
Then, Steve pulled Celeste out of the doorway from behind and ushered the Oppels and their realtor inside. For the rest of their house tour, Celeste remained out of sight. Oppel found Steve, in his Sansabelt slacks and golf shirt, an affable host. Enthralled with the view of the city, the Oppels made an offer, and negotiations produced an agreement. Before the closing, they stood in the study while Steve sat at his desk, ordering Celeste to retrieve items he needed. “He was clearly in charge,” says Oppel. “Very much the elderly gentleman.”
On another preclosing visit, Richard and Carol again found Steve, dressed in slacks and an open-collar plaid shirt, sitting at his desk in the library. This time he had a large checkbook in front of him. As they talked, Celeste shuffled in, wearing sandals, shorts, and a loose shirt. “Steve, Kristina and I are having so much fun on the jet ski up at the lake,” she said. “While you’re writing out checks, we really need another one.”
“Honey, those cost a lot of money,” Steve answered.
Celeste leaned over his shoulder, playfully wrapped her arms around his chest and said, “Oh, honey, you’ve got a lot of money.”
Without further comment, Steve laughed and wrote her a check.
As well as he appeared to be adapting to the move, Steve had a deep sadness about leaving a home that held so many happy memories. One day, after the Oppels moved in, Steve stopped by. Inside the house, he stood before a window in the bar that overlooked the orchid house, where Elise had spent many happy hours. Pointing at an orchid etched on the glass, he said, “That was a gift to my first wife.”
Years later, Oppel remembered the melancholy look on Steve’s face that day. “He was clearly very much in love with Elise,” he says. “He was still visibly sad at losing her.”
As Mrs. Steven Beard Jr., Celeste segmented her life into two distinct slices: time in Austin and at the lake house. While his friends remained cordial to Celeste, they never welcomed her into the group. It was with women more like those she’d come of age with that Celeste bonded. At Tramps, an upscale salon frequented by many in Austin’s old guard, she befriended her hairdresser, Denise Renfeldt. A small woman with the figure and the enthusiasm of a teenager, Denise immediately liked Celeste. “We were a lot alike,” she says. “We both liked to have fun.”
Over the years, Denise became Celeste’s confidante. In a station in the center of the salon—a busy establishment that smelled of shampoo and nail polish—Celeste talked of her life. In her account, Steve met her at the club and fell head over heels in love with her. “He offered me two million dollars to marry him,” Celeste told her. Calling Steve fat and old, she complained about having sex with him. Others overheard her, and the stories spread. “Austin is a big city, but it’s like a small town. Talk travels,” says Denise.
If Austin had a fast-paced edge, life at the lake took a more leisurely turn. Celeste spent much of the day in sandals, T-shirts, and shorts. The house was small for Celeste, Steve, Kristina, and the two dogs—Steve’s Meagan and Celeste’s constant companion, a black and white cocker spaniel named Nikki.