Come Pour the Wine (17 page)

She took the sardines out and put them into the cupboard, stacking them alongside the two-pound can of Hills Brothers coffee.

“I take it sardines shouldn’t be frozen,” Bill said sheepishly. “But at least you’ve got to give me an A for effort. I’m just learning.”

And I’m learning a lot about you, Janet thought. This is a country mile from the Bill of a few months ago. “Suppose you go inside and fix a drink, turn on the stereo and I’ll do what women were supposedly born to do. Get supper.”

He kissed her and did as she said.

As Janet came into the living room carrying a large tray, he said, “Here, let me take that.”

“It’s not heavy,” she said, placing it on the coffee table.

“That looks beautiful, Janet.”

“Don’t it just. And it was so taxing,” she said, smiling as he looked at the platter of cold cuts, cheese and bread.

They talked and laughed, and in the contentment of the mood Bill confided in her about the postcards his friend had mailed for him as a ruse to escape the usual family visit on that first weekend they’d shared.

She told him about Effie, with all of her well-meaning complaints—eliminating, of course, the part about marriage and children—and about her starry-eyed teen-age cousins whom she hadn’t had the courage to disillusion about the glamor of modeling. Which was an unpleasant reminder that the time had come for her to pack her overnight case and go home. She had to be up at six in the morning.

Taking the last sip of her wine she stood up and started to remove the tray.

“Don’t do that now,” Bill said. “We can clean up later. Sit down here next to me.”

“I wish I could, darling, but the witching hour has come. Tomorrow is blue Monday and we working girls have got to get our rest.”

He stood up, took her in his arms and kissed her into silence. Or tried to. Between kisses she said, “I’ve got … to … go. It’s … ten—”

“No, you don’t. Stay … please.”

“Can’t—”

“Please …”

“No, I can’t.”

He released her gently, took her face in his hands. Almost whispering, he said, “Please, I think you owe it to me.”

“Why?”

“Because you loused up my whole weekend. You weren’t here.”

There was an awkward silence as the surprise of his admission hung between them.

Janet was the first to recover.
You loused up my weekend. You weren’t here …
The words still rang in her ears as she answered, “Well … how can I make it up to you?”

“I’ll think of something,” he said, and picked her up in his arms.

O
N MONDAY SHE WAS
so exhausted that she merely went through the motions of being alive. They hadn’t fallen asleep until after three, and when the alarm clock went off at six she had wanted to throw it out the window. Edna St. Vincent Millay had nothing on her. She was burning her candle not only at both ends, but in the middle. A few more nights like that and she’d have to give up modeling and take up basket weaving.

When she joined Kit for lunch that day she was greeted with “Wow, you look like you just came out of a wringer.”

“That’s the way I feel. I can’t wait for today to be over.”

Kit laughed. “Listen, kid, sex is great, but like anything else, overdose can be hazardous to health.”

Janet blushed. Even with Kit she felt embarrassed. “What did you do over the weekend?” she asked, anxious to change the subject.

“Well, on Friday night I had a drink with Bill.”

“Oh … ? Strange he didn’t mention it—”

“Nothing strange about it. It wasn’t all that important. I didn’t have anything to do and I was feeling a little restless, so I gave him a call. He’d just gotten home from the airport.”

“Did he say anything about me?” Janet asked tentatively.

“Yes. He said he thought you were a terrific lady.”

“That’s it?”

“What else did you think he’d say?”

“I don’t know, Kit … The truth is, when I’m with him I get the feeling he really cares for me … a great deal. Not that he says so in those words, but—”

“Don’t get hung up on what you want to hear … or think you’re hearing. Guys can be nuts about a girl but have no intention of going beyond an affair. I told you that.”

“Is that what
he
said?”

“No, we didn’t really discuss you all that much.”

Kit knew that hurt, but not nearly as much as it would hurt when Bill checked out of the affair. She couldn’t just stand by and let Janet build up all kinds of romantic notions about walking down the aisle. If only Janet knew the real story of that long conversation …

“Listen, baby, take the goodies while they last. Look, we all go through this.” Kit gave a sympathetic shake of her head. “Now, Saturday I’m having a small dinner party, so don’t make any other plans.”

During the week Janet and Bill had an early dinner, which left him rather out of sorts. By the time they’d finished dinner it was nine o’clock, and since Janet had to be up early the next morning the evening was practically over. He respected Janet’s aversion to love on the run, her feeling that it was somehow sordid and cheap, but he couldn’t help feeling as if he’d been left high and dry, in more ways than one, when he dropped her at her hotel. Still, he had to admit when Friday came the waiting had been worth it.

There was still, though, the matter of Sundays to be settled, and he made a decision. The weekends belonged to him and Janet—mama or no mama. He knew it would be no easy job to break it to his mother but he hadn’t suspected just how hard it would be until he sat across from her in her living room after broaching the subject.

At first she didn’t seem to comprehend. “You mean it’s just this coming Sunday you won’t be here—”

“No, mother, I mean from now on I can’t make Sunday a standing day to come to—”

“Bill, … you can be honest with me. Is there a special girl?”

“Yes,” he answered, surprised at his courage, then suddenly ashamed that it should take any courage.

“Oh … and is she your—?”

“Mistress? No.” He denied it not just for the sake of his mother’s sensibilities … when the time came for them to meet he wanted to spare Janet any possible embarrassment.

“But she must mean a great deal to you if you prefer her to your very own family. Are you … in love?” She swallowed hard, waiting for the answer.

“I’m not sure, but I know I like her a great deal, and so will you.”

“You mean you intend to bring her here?”

“Yes, I do, mother.”

Her tone was suddenly adamant as she said, “Bill, I’d prefer that you didn’t.”

“Well, in that case, I’m afraid I won’t be seeing you very often.”

She looked at him and suddenly saw a hint of Jason in his determination. Jason was gone. And now Bill too … ? Her voice softened as she said, “Is she a really
nice
girl? I mean, the sort you would
be proud
to—”

“Yes.” Jesus, this was a soap opera.

“What is her profession?”

Profession? He wanted to say brain surgeon. “She’s a high-fashion model.”

Silence, then a clearing of the throat. “Model?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound like a terribly respectable profession to me, dear.”

“Modeling has changed a lot since the days of the
Police Gazette,
mother. Take my word for it, she’s not only in a respected profession but she’s one of the best. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Violet let it pass. “Tell me about this young woman.”

He hated being questioned. This was going to be like a cross-examination on the witness stand. “What would you like to know, mother … ?”

“Where does she come from?”

“Kansas. Wichita, Kansas.”

“I hope she’s not Catholic.”

What the hell did that mean? “No,” he snapped back, “as a matter of fact she’s part Jewish.”

Silence prevailed. “Jewish?”

Bill sat in shock.

What the hell was wrong with her. She wasn’t anti-Semitic. She had never been anti-anything, for that matter, unless it threatened her little world. His father’s firm had started with the name of Unger & McNeil and Abraham and Rosalyn Unger had been accepted as family. She was using this as a ploy. He hadn’t realized how really devious she could be until now. The echoes of Kit … “Your mother’s devious, Bill …” He had rejected it before but he was beginning to believe it now … “Just part Jewish, mother, but you’ll be happy to know that Janet’s family are good Protestants … same as we are and much more churchgoing. Any other questions?”

Violet sat quietly. When she did not respond, Bill said, “In that case I’ll be seeing you soon. Take care.” He walked out, slamming the door behind him….

Alone, Violet let the tears come down. He was his father’s son, all right. And she was losing him again, maybe irrevocably this time….

Driving back to Manhattan, Bill sat behind the wheel hating himself. Yes, his mother was manipulative, maybe even devious, but he shouldn’t have hurt her so badly … or at least been so rough on her. Sure she’d made him mad. But she was still his mother and he loved her … but God, the time had come when he had to be a free adult man, belong to himself. Life could sure push you into the corners … trading off someone else’s happiness for your own … He pressed down the accelerator. Hard.

The magnificent antiques Kit had acquired from her mother were gleaming in the flickering light cast by tall tapers on the rose marble mantel. Two large arrangements of exotic flowers completed the festive setting, their perfume lightly scenting the air.

Kit sat at one end of the dining room table, looking radiant with shimmering crystal beads at the neck, and Nat, sitting opposite her, looked especially handsome and happy tonight.

Bill looked from Kit, the dark-haired olive-skinned beauty, to Janet, exquisite in a dress of hyacinth tissue taffeta, heightening the effect of her violet blue eyes, her fair, delicate skin and that wondrous mane of silk.

Then he switched his attention to Charles’s wife Carol and wondered what it was that made their marriage work so well. The differences in their personalities were startling. Carol bordered on the shy, just pretty enough not to be unattractive, and Charles had always been so outgoing, had always had his pick of girls, was a great conversationalist and so forth. What was the chemistry that went on, Bill wondered? Better not to know …

Janet’s thinking was not so different, though with a variation. She too looked around the table … at Kit and Nat, Charles and Carol. Kit and Nat seemed especially in tune with each other tonight, and now that Janet was getting to know Carol better she saw the essential gentleness of her nature and her look of quiet pride and love when she turned to her husband. And what wife wouldn’t be pleased to have a husband as attractive, warm and open as Charles? They seemed to complement each other almost perfectly.

It was amazing, really, that Kit and Nat or Charles and Carol had somehow managed to find each other among the multitudes of men and women. Was it accident, something predestined, that had brought them together? And what about herself and Bill? The last time this group had been together was that disastrous night of Kit’s birthday party, when Janet would have bet her life that she and Bill were never meant even to be civil together. But tonight …

When the table had been cleared for dessert, the maid filled the hollow-stemmed champagne glasses and Charles launched into one of his jokes. As the laughter subsided Kit stood up and tapped a spoon against her glass for silence. Smiling at Nat, she said, “Here’s to you, darling. To a long life filled with joy, and a few friendly fights so we can appreciate the good things even more.”

And then Kit announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here to tell you that we were married yesterday before sundown in the rabbi’s study.”

Complete silence for a moment, then everyone seemed to talk at one time and Charles said, “How come you didn’t tell your own brother, so I could give you away?”

“No one had to give me away. Nat took me the way I am.”

“Yes,” Nat said, putting his arm around her, “but it took me two years to talk you into it.”

“Don’t ever say I didn’t warn you,” Kit replied.

Janet got up and kissed her friend. “Kit, I’m so happy for you.” Kit gave her a warm hug, suddenly sensitive to the hopes Janet must be feeling about her relationship with Bill at this moment. Janet, hung up on a man who acted as though Independence Day had been created with him alone in mind …

Charles was shaking hands with Nat. “Congratulations. You married yourself quite a woman. And I’m proud of you, Kit, for picking the best.”

“We Barstows always had a lot of class. Look at you and Carol. You couldn’t have done better.”

Carol kissed her new sister-in-law. “Kit … Nat, I hope you’ll be as happy as Charles and I have been.”

“Even half as happy would do,” Kit said, her eyes suddenly moist as she remembered what Carol had meant to Charles after the death of their parents; it was Carol who had helped him out of those long, long nights of despair.

Bill was standing in front of Kit. “You know what I wish for you, don’t you?” he said, thinking of how she had always been there, strong and sympathetic, when the going got rough.

She knew he wanted the best for her. And in a curious way she had him to thank for making her appreciate what she had with Nat.
You’re a taker, Bill, not a giver, but I love you in spite of it all… and God help Janet.

Bill kissed her, then shook hands with Nat. “You’re a lucky man.” As he sat down, though, he suddenly felt a sense of loss, and envy. His two best friends were married. And where did that leave him … ? He looked briefly at Janet, then quickly away….

Janet lay snug in Bill’s arms that night, but she hardly felt secure. Staring up at the ceiling in the dark, she could still see Kit standing alongside of Nat as they cut their wedding cake after the big announcement. Kit’s hand had shaken badly but Nat’s had steadied it. It was a sight she would never forget. Kit had revealed a side of herself that few had ever seen. The conversation still rang in her ears …

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you were getting married,” Charles had said.