Come Pour the Wine (13 page)

Men, in
their
fashion, were really so naive. “I could hardly go back this time of day looking like I’d come from a four o’clock wedding reception, so I had to cut it off.”

“By God, that’s right.” That was one of the problems of living in a hotel he hadn’t thought about. “No one’s going to notice,” he said reassuringly. “Just too bad that lovely dress had to be ruined.”

“Do you think so?” she asked as they stepped into the elevator.

He answered by kissing her.

They were still kissing when the doors opened. They walked out of the lobby to the garage across the street and Bill helped her into his Cadillac convertible.

“I didn’t know you had a car.”

“Easier to take cabs in the city.”

“I suppose … Bill, do you honestly think I look—”

“Fine, I swear. No one will notice.”

“I hope so.”

Before she knew it, Bill was stopping at the curb in front of the hotel and turning off the ignition. She didn’t know what to say. Thank you for a wonderful … wonderful what? God, she didn’t know what to say, but when she saw that he was about to get out and come round to her side she had another worry. “Thank you, Bill, but I’d prefer to go in alone. It would be less …”

“Of course, I understand,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. Taking her to him, he kissed her. “I’ll call.”

She merely nodded and let herself out of the car. Instantly a wave of loneliness swept over her as she watched the car disappear from sight. It was as though she had suddenly been set adrift in an unfamiliar world. She turned reluctantly and went through the revolving door.

With the greatest dignity she could command, Janet strode across the lobby to the elevator. But just as she had feared, she became the focus of attention. The ladies of the Barbizon were making sure they didn’t miss one small ragged thread. She could feel eyes piercing through her, as if they could see everything that had happened to her since last night.

It seemed an eternity before the door swung back. The elevator operator slowly eyed her from head to toe. “Good afternoon, Miss Stevens.” Her tone seemed to say, Well, well, well, Miss Kansas Corn finally got laid.

As Janet stepped out of the elevator at her floor she heard, “Have a nice day, Miss Stevens.”

Her face turned crimson. She ran down the hall to her room and stood fumbling for the keys in her purse. Once inside, she leaned against the door and angrily wiped away the tears in her eyes. God, how humiliating. She threw her satin slippers across the room and ripped off her dress, then sat on the bed blowing her nose and wiping her eyes. She was weary now and felt terribly alone. God, love was pretty awful too.

She picked up the phone and called the old homestead. “It’s me, mom.”

“Janet, I’m so glad you called.”

“Well, I just got lonesome for you—”

“It’s mutual, darling … Do you have a cold?”

“No.”

“Oh? You sound a little stuffed up. Are you feeling okay?”

“Just wonderful. How are you and dad?”

“Fine, darling. Just fine.”

“… Could you and dad come to New York for a few days?”

“We’d love to but your father’s so busy and I don’t think he can take the time. Dr. Sanders is on vacation.”

“I see … Well, then I think maybe I’ll come home next weekend. I want to see you.”

There was a silent moment. “Janet, are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m sure. Just a little homesick, that’s all.”

“Well, your father and I will be happy to see you. Let me know when the plane arrives.”

“I will. Is dad there?”

“No. He’s at the hospital.”

“I see. Say hello to him. And mom … I love you …”

After hanging up she sat with her hand on the receiver. She felt rotten, and suddenly frightened that Bill wouldn’t call her again. God, he must have thought she was cheap. She hadn’t exactly protested when … the thought made her cringe. She went into the bathroom, let the water run in the tub and lathered herself with the lavender-scented soap. Then she lay back, wondering if Bill had even given her a thought …

He sat at his mother’s table now, having lunch with Harriet and Gordon. He ate mechanically, scarcely hearing a word that was said. It was the usual menu. Fresh fruit salad, capon, hot popovers, vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. The conversation too was predictable. About how busy Alice was with her children. Getting the boys ready for high school kept her hopping, and Gwen had decided she wanted to attend the Sorbonne for two years. And imagine Randy going to Yale … Good Lord, it had been like yesterday, Violet said, when she had sewn all the name tags into Bill’s clothing and he went off to military school, then to M.I.T. If only Jason could have lived to see their grandchildren grow up. And Betsy … where did she get the stamina to do all she did? It was beyond Violet’s comprehension. Imagine Betsy being president of the …

Bill wasn’t listening. “Mother, I won’t be able to be here for the next few Sundays …”

Silence. Violet sat looking at him. He had been unusually late today and vague with his excuse. But it wasn’t only that that bothered her. He had been silent throughout the meal, sitting there with an abstracted look in his eyes … “I’m sorry to hear that, dear. But I’m sure it must be important or you wouldn’t—”

“Yes, it’s very important. We have a large project going on in Galveston.”

“When did you say you were leaving?”

“I didn’t, but on Friday afternoon.”

“You’ll be staying on until the following weekend?”

He had to think fast. She’d call the office to check up. She was mighty crafty that way. She always used to catch him in a lie. But he’d double-check with his secretary. “Yes, mother.”

“Have a wonderful trip. And write even if it’s just a card.”

He had a friend who flew for Delta Airlines. Jack had mailed prewritten cards one or two times before. God, this was so damned ridiculous.

The afternoon moved on slowly as he played billiards with Gordon. By dinnertime he was ready to jump out the window. He agonized through the meal, then excused himself early, explaining that he had a big day ahead of him tomorrow and so forth …

She kissed him good-by as if he were leaving for Siberia, told him to take care of himself and be careful.

He promised he would and was off….

Violet turned to Harriet. “You don’t believe I was taken in by Bill saying he was going to Galveston, do you?”

“Why not, mother? After all, he is an engineer.”

“Yes, of course, but I always know when Bill’s not telling the truth. He’s not very good at fibbing. Never was.”

“Why should he have to do that?” Harriet asked, as though she didn’t know.

“Harriet, Bill’s carrying on with some woman and I think it’s serious.”

“Really? Well, why shouldn’t he?”

“Because he’s far too young. He has plenty of time for that.”

“Mother, for heaven’s sake. What Bill does is his own business, not yours, and you’d better get used to the idea. He’s going to marry one day and you won’t have a thing to say about it.”

“Let’s get back to our game of cribbage.”

The moment Bill got into his apartment he called Janet, but her line was busy. He kept trying every few minutes, but whoever she was talking to was surely long-winded….

The moment Janet hung up after speaking to Kit, she took up her purse and locked the door.

She was a few feet down the hall when she heard her phone, and rushed back, fumbled for the key and unlocked the door. But by the time she grabbed up the receiver the caller had hung up. It had to have been Bill. It had to … The only other possibility was Kit, and she was meeting her for dinner. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she debated whether or not to call him back.

At the very same moment Bill was thinking, damn, first it’s busy then no answer. She must have gone out. Well, he was going to do the same. Have a few drinks. He really could use it after today.

By the time Janet decided to call, he was already in the elevator and halfway across the lobby—and so no answer.

It must not have been him after all …

B
ILL WORKED IN HIS
office until eleven o’clock Monday night, sending out for sandwiches and coffee. By the time he came up for air it was too late to call Janet. She had to be up and out very early in the morning, so he’d have to wait until sometime tomorrow….

On Tuesday he called Conover’s only to be told that she was out on location and that they had no idea when she’d be back …

Well, he would try about six. She’d probably be home.

Six came, but still no Janet. Well, she did have a life of her own. He tried on and off until nine-thirty. She was out for the evening, the hotel operator finally said. Would he care to leave a message? No, he wouldn’t care to leave a message. She seemed to lead a very busy social life, he thought sullenly …

Having gone to an early dinner and movie with Kit, Janet arrived home at nine-thirty, almost to the moment that Bill had hung up. She asked the switchboard if there were any messages. The operator, who had just come on for late duty, said no.

That night she slept badly. Why hadn’t Bill called?
Face it, Janet. You were a one-night stand after all.
She was hurt, but if she had a shred of pride left it had to be salvaged. She was
not
going to call him. She’d made a fool enough of herself. She was beginning to wish she had gone by her upbringing. If nothing else, she’d still have her dignity … not to mention her virginity. She’d certainly given it away fast enough. Well, if she
ever
went beyond a casual date with another man she was going to make absolutely sure that
he
liked her as much as she liked … Except that none of these fine resolutions were one bit of comfort now….

On Wednesday, Bill had to be out of town, and negotiations on the contract he was bidding for became so involved that he didn’t get home until midnight. Damn it, too late … He set his alarm for six. He was going to get to Janet if it killed him.

At six-fifteen Janet picked up the ringing phone. “Hello.”

“Hello is
right,
” he said. “Do you know I’ve been trying to get you since Sunday night?”

Janet’s hand began to shake. All those terrible things she’d thought about him all week … “I didn’t get any messages.”

“I didn’t leave any, I thought you might be too busy to call me back—”

“Oh, Bill, I wasn’t that busy. In fact I wasn’t busy at all.”

“Really? For someone who lives such a Spartan life, it’s strange I could never find you in.”

“I’m sorry. If only you had left a message—” He wasn’t going to tell her that jealousy wasn’t only a woman’s prerogative, or curse. All irrationally, he’d
expected
her to be there when he called. Well, grow up, for God’s sake. You don’t own her and you wouldn’t want to even if you could … well, would you? God knows,
you
don’t want to be owned … well, do you? Come on, slow up, or you’ll push her right out of the ball park … “Well,” he said, “I guess it
was
foolish not to leave a message. Still friends?”

She laughed nervously. “Still friends.”

“In that case, I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

“I’d love to, but it will have to be a short evening. We start shooting early on Friday …” She smiled to herself as she hung up the phone. Imagine his caring enough to be angry … She wasn’t kidding herself that it was love on his part, but the fact that he had been angry was a sign of something—oh, stop figuring it, Janet … stop fantasizing….

At dinner they talked trivia, each happy to be in the other’s company but somehow feeling ill at ease, as if they were holding back the words and thoughts that were really in their minds.

When they were almost through with their coffee Janet asked almost apologetically, “What time is it, Bill?”

“Almost nine.”

“I hate doing this, but I really must go.”

What a hell of a profession, like taking the vows, Bill thought. The evening hadn’t even begun … finally met a girl he liked, wanted, and—

“I did say it would have to be an early evening—”

“Sure, of course. Well, how about Saturday night?”

She hesitated. “Bill, I’m going home this weekend.”

He couldn’t believe what she was saying. After all the fancy maneuvers he’d gone through with his mother to be free for two lousy weekends … The postcards already written and given to his friend Jack, the pilot, to mail. Maybe God was punishing him for lying to his mother, and maybe also for taking Janet for granted. “Do you really have to go? I mean this weekend?” He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“I really do. I haven’t seen them in three months.”

I should be so lucky.
“So when did you say you were leaving?”

“I’m taking the six-thirty flight tomorrow.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll drive you to the airport.”

“You’re very sweet—”

“That’s me. Used to be an Eagle Scout. Youngest in the troop. I’ll show you my good conduct medals.”

But Janet heard the pique in his voice, more than a tinge of disappointment, even, maybe, a smidgen of loneliness? No, she chided herself, dismissing the thought immediately as being absurd. Wishful thinking, that’s what dreams are made of … illusions and delusions….

The next day’s shooting session on location had taken longer than expected, and by the time it was over Janet was a complete wreck, filled with anxiety that she would miss her plane, that Bill might already have gotten impatient and given up waiting for her …

When Janet reached the agency, she dressed quickly, ran a comb through her hair and hurried down the hall to the elevator. She got to the street just in time to see Bill driving off. He must have been around the block a dozen times. It was the height of the rush-hour traffic and no parking was permitted. Anxiously glancing at her wrist watch, she waited and watched, praying that he hadn’t given up and gone home. After what seemed an eternity she recognized his car inching down the block in the stop-and-go traffic. Finally it came to a stop at the curb. She hastily opened the door and slid into the seat.

“Now you know why I take taxis,” he said, impatiently, grabbing her suitcase and putting it in the back seat.