Come Pour the Wine (45 page)

At precisely 5:26 of a Thursday afternoon, James Stevens ceased to exist.

As though it were happening to someone else, she sat in the chapel with her mother, her children, dearest friends … and Bill, listening to the rabbi’s eulogy. Then she watched as the casket was placed into the hearse, and it was Nat who became her solace. In her grief she had wanted her father not to have been buried so quickly. It seemed so sudden, abrupt. She wished they could have stayed just a while longer, but Nat explained that a Jew who died on Thursday had to be buried before sundown on Friday, since Saturday was the Sabbath. He also explained that in that tradition, what belonged to God must return without delay, that we came from the earth and to the earth we were obliged to return.

As Janet watched the coffin being lowered into the ground, she once again felt a deep awareness of her Jewishness, a heritage more felt than practiced, in her case. But she would create a memorial in the name of her father, his father and the father that went before them. She would never forget to say
Kaddish.
She would learn how … She and her mother lingered a short time after the others had walked slowly down the paths to wait. A final good-by from the two people most important to him in life … and now in death.

That evening friends and family came to pay their respects. Even in her bereavement Martha stood with dignity and thanked everyone for their kind words.

The next day Nat helped Janet begin the traditional week of mourning. Each evening they went to the synagogue for memorial services, and by now Janet could say,
Yis-gad-dal v’yis-kad-dash sh’meh rab’bo, b’ol ’mo
…

Sitting in the sanctuary with Nat, she silently spoke to her great-grandfather, Yankel Stevensky … “I thank you for the spiritual feeling that runs so deep in me. I promise never to forget.”

There came a time to accept … to rejoice in life and accept one’s loss at the same time….

But in spite of Janet’s plea, Martha refused to live with her. No, she would stay where she had been most happy … where she could sit quietly, speak to James, not needing an answer, knowing him so well she needed no answer … no, she told her daughter, she had to stay, to bring fresh flowers to his resting place … Her memories would keep her company through the long winter nights. They were enough. They were her life.

J
ASON, NOW A PART
of McNeil & Son, had taken an apartment in the city. So now that Janet’s children were settled in life, she was left living alone in the house with only the echoes of the past. But they had become muted and distant….

One Sunday in summer she sat on the terrace, reading the paper. A little later the house would be full. Jay was driving up with his girl friend. Nicole, now pregnant with her second child, would be coming with Mark and Gerald, Kit, Nat and Bill.

After an hour of relaxation, she was just getting up to go in for a glass of cold lemonade when the phone rang.

It was Bill. “I’m here at Nicole’s. Mind if I come over ahead of the others for a little visit?”

“Sure, come on over.”

A half hour later they sat together on the terrace, drinking lemonade and looking out over the garden.

“You know, Janet, I wonder how many divorced people stay as close as we have.”

“Not many, I’d guess.”

“… Have you ever forgiven me?”

“Bill, I thought we agreed a long time ago … the past is past, let’s not dwell on it … Did you hear the phone ringing?”

“Yes.” He would have liked to have ripped out the wires.

She got up and answered it in the living room. Through the open French door Bill could hear … “Allan! How nice to hear from you. I always find time. When will you be here? … Fine … so am I, Allan. See you then.”

Still smiling from the sound of Allan’s voice, she walked back and sat down.

Bill was not only curious but abruptly … jealous? And angry? He couldn’t push back his feelings…. “Is that your friend from Chicago?”

She looked at him. “Eavesdroppers never hear well of themselves.”

“Are you serious about him?”

“It’s really none of your business, but no … He’s a very good friend who saw me through a lot of the rough spots.”

Had she slept with him? Janet was right, though. Even if she had, what business was it of his? Still, sitting on his former terrace with his former wife made him damned … damned annoyed. He knew it didn’t make any sense, no more than anything else he’d ever done—except marrying Janet, and he’d screwed that one up with his crazy obsession about his
freedom.
What a laugh. What freedom? The only thing he was free of was his analyst. Lately he’d been thinking more and more of getting up the courage … the nerve … to ask Janet out. Crazy? Sure. Just as crazy as he was to resent that call Janet had just gotten. But damn it, it was like someone taking his … his property away. They’d been divorced five years, but face it, he
was
jealous. “Janet?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like—”

Just then they heard a car in the driveway. It was Kit and Nat.

Well, he thought, during the week was best. He’d never get her alone today.

On Wednesday he called the shop, only to be told by Renée that Ms. McNeil was having her hair done.
Ms.
McNeil … ?

That evening he called her at home.

“What are you doing tomorrow for dinner?”

She paused, not quite believing what she’d heard. “I have a date.”

“Break it.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s that friend from Chicago, right?” There was an obvious edge of anger in his voice.

Janet, in spite of herself, was rather pleased. “That’s right.”

“Oh? … I thought you said you weren’t interested.”

“It’s really none of your business, Bill, but I wouldn’t stand up a friend.”

“I see … Well, have fun.”

“I might do that.” She laughed. He didn’t.

As she hung up she wondered if maybe that shrink, as Jason called him, had finally gotten to him … the singles bars, the one-night stands. Being a grandfather didn’t seem to bother him; in fact, just the opposite. He really seemed to adore that little boy Gerald, and he talked constantly about the next addition, which he hoped would be a girl. Times certainly had changed. She remembered his resentment—and fear—of going to his mother’s, feeling so obligated and yet hating to do what was expected of him. It was what had ignited the volcano inside him. And yet lately he had been spending more than just weekends at Nicole’s; he couldn’t wait to get back to the old homestead. Well, mothers were different from grandchildren. He’d despised Long Island but now, finally, looked forward to Westchester. The prodigal grandfather returned …

On Thursday morning Janet left the shop at eleven. Renée hadn’t seen her this excited in a long time. Come to think about it, not since Nicole’s wedding.

“You got a little secret, Ms. McNeil?”

“Not a secret. I just feel … sort of great.”

“I could tell. Got a hot one on the wire?”

“Renée! Allan Blum is coming for the weekend.”

“So how come you’re this excited? You never acted this way before when he came to town.”

“Well, let’s just say it feels good just being liked by a man, having a man just interested in you.”

“I hear you but I don’t believe you, Janet. I think, you will forgive the expression, that you’re ripe for love.”

Janet pretended a frown. “Don’t get carried away—”

“And why not? Take it from a lady who knows. Mr. Allan Blum hasn’t exactly been crazy about the idea of your platonic friendship.”

“Just watch the store, Dear Abby. I’ll be at Orlane’s body shop. I need a treat and a treatment. I’m going for the works.”

“That’s the first sign.”

Janet shook her head. “You’ve been reading Erica Jong … try Shakespeare.”

“He
knew all about sex.”

It was five in the evening when Janet returned to the shop.

“My God! You look gorgeous. You really did go for the works. That makeup job and hair … he’ll flip.”

Janet looked at herself in the mirror. Today she really did like herself. She really did. Well, at least the way she looked.

“What time you meeting Romeo?”

Janet grimaced. “At six …”

“Where?”

“The Plaza.”

“He travels first class, doesn’t he? Here, I pressed your silk suit.”

Janet went to the back of the store and slipped into the suit. When Renee saw her, she said, “Wow, that color’s so delicious I could eat it. You should always wear mauve. It does something for your skin tone. Makes it glow. And your eyes are fabulous.” Renée sighed. “What a figure … Why does my mother stuff me with matzoh-balls? Boy, if you can’t make it tonight, call the undertaker. He’s got to be far gone.”

As Janet waited for Allan in the lobby of the Plaza she felt rather uncomfortable … Somehow she’d never gotten accustomed to having people stare at her, to the double-takes and admiring looks. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a little flattered. Imagine, a grandmother … forty-five, and the men still looked.

“Hi, gorgeous. Doing anything tonight?”

“Allan?”

He kissed her as she stood up. “You recognized me?”

“Barely. You grew a beard and moustache!”

“Thought I needed a new image … Like it?”

“I love it, you look simply great.”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“I adore beards, especially when they’re trimmed the way yours is …” She shook her head. “But you look so different.”

“Different than what?”

“Oh, you know what I mean … and you’ve changed your hair style.” The deep red hair was longer now, and together with the new beard it made him look even more distinguished.

“You noticed.”

She laughed. “I noticed … Allan, it’s so good to see you.”

He squeezed her hand and smiled in reply. “Now, where would you like to go?”

“You decide, please.”

“I’d like candlelight and wine, someplace quiet so we can catch up on old times.”

They sat in the restaurant’s shadows and spoke of unimportant things. How the shop was doing, about her grandson and the new one coming. How Bill had come back into the fold and had asked her to dinner. “It’s so strange, Allan. I guess he’s found his niche … being an unmarried husband. He’d like us to really be good friends once again—”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“I don’t. Bill’s become like a fixture in the family. I neither feel hurt nor anger anymore, so it’s easy for me to be charitable.”

“Is that really why you’re being so … benign toward him?”

“Well, not altogether … I think it’s important to the children that we get along together. Besides, at this point, what point would it serve to be hostile?”

Allan looked searchingly at her. “Are you sure about no longer feeling hurt or are you just being stoic? Or plain kidding yourself?”

“No … I really believe it’s all gone. What’s sort of strange … sad, I guess … is his sudden attention. Now that I’m not his wife, he wants to woo me.”

“You know what’s happening to him, don’t you?”

“What?”

“It turns out he didn’t quite make it to Camelot and now he’s having a second look at what he left behind. You’ve taken on a different dimension for him. I think he’d like you back, Janet.”

“Would he? Well, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have him. On any terms.”

“I can’t say that doesn’t make me happy.” He reached over and took her hand. “Janet, it’s no secret I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I’d say—and don’t laugh—from the moment I saw you walk into that dining room aboard ship. I know … love-at-first-sight, mid-forties edition, but there you are. Since then my feelings have grown much,
much
stronger …” He took a sip of wine, looked intently at her. “I came to New York for two reasons. The most important is to ask you to marry me …”

She had seen Allan whenever he came to town for some five years now, and in all that time he had never acted as much more than a devoted friend. She’d known, felt that a change was inevitable, although she had never expected anything quite like this. The answer she must give made her suddenly afraid she might lose what had become a very valuable friendship, and substitute something else that might quickly evaporate …

“Thank you, Allan, but I can’t marry again. I mean, I’ve decided I never will.”

“You mean, if I may say so, that you’re still frightened.”

“Naturally there are scars, I admit it, but it goes beyond that—”

“In what way?”

“Well … my children. I just feel it’s wrong—”

“Why?”

“Well, the notion of bringing another man into their lives—”

“Janet, maybe you ought to be honest with yourself. It sounds very much like you’re still in love with Bill—”

“
No
, you’re wrong. Not anymore, believe me.”

“Okay, I’ll believe … especially since I so badly want to … but don’t you think your children would actually be happy, seeing you live a more natural life?”

“I don’t know, Allan … at my age, to start a new marriage? Yes, all right, I admit it … I’m terrified I might fail again.”

“To answer the first part first—I know, spoken like a true lawyer—you’re still a young woman, and even if you weren’t, since when does the heart get wrinkles? People can and do fall in love at any old age. And as we grow older, well, there’s the need for companionship that becomes even more important—though I repeat, you
aren’t
old …”

Janet toyed with the crumbs on her dessert plate. “Of course, logically what you say is true, but—”

“How much do you
like
me?”

“Oh, Allan, you know the answer to that. You’re the most open and unselfish person I’ve ever known. You never demanded anything of me—”

He held up his hand.
“Thank
you, but let me tell you, my virtue got pretty thinned out. I’ve spent more than a few sleepless night wanting you, but I knew, or suspected, you weren’t ready.”

“And you were right, Allan. I’m not sure that I am now.” Not that she hadn’t thought about it. But every time she had begun to wonder what it would be like with Allan her mind had abruptly and unerringly shifted to Bill, the only man she’d ever slept with, the man she’d made her life with, and who had smashed it. She had never been able to think it through to the end, and now she felt mighty uncomfortable with the subject. Better change it …