Dream Lover (14 page)
I was nervous about approaching the house; it has a brick wall around the property with huge iron gates at the entrance to the path up to the door. There was the sound of water splashing. The gate squeaked so loudly it hurt my ears. And then I saw the source of the water: a beautiful fountain in the center of a magnificent garden. It was one of those secret places you read about in the Sunday
Times.
I couldn’t imagine having such a thing right in my own yard.
I wondered if everyone in the household was looking out the windows at me. I knocked on the door. A uniformed maid opened it and stepped aside so I could come in. She showed me to a small, comfortably furnished room to the left off the hallway. Down farther, on the right, I saw light spilling out of a large doorway and heard the sounds of female voices and laughter. I sat down and looked around, taking it all in. There was very little in the way of clutter, no antiques or bric-a-brac, and no art hanging on the walls. It sort of looked like they were getting ready to move and had packed up everything but the furniture. After I’d been sitting there for about a minute, the maid returned with a coffee pot on a tray. She asked me how I took it as Pam walked in.
“I’ll pour, Millie, thank you very much. Good morning, Maryanne,” she said turning to me. “Thank you for coming.” She didn’t seem to expect me to reply because she kept on talking as she poured coffee for us. “How do you take your coffee? Or are you a tea drinker? I have both here.” I told her I’d take coffee. “Millie just can’t serve drinks without something fattening. I’ll put two of these on your plate.” She placed a cream-filled pastry of some kind next to a crispy-looking cookie. It was too much sugar so early in the day, but I’d eat it to be polite.
“The reason I asked you to meet me today is because I want to help you with your finances. I’m going to be very upfront with you about everything, okay?”
I nodded my head yes.
“Here’s a check for ten thousand dollars. I realize that won’t last forever, but it should help you stay afloat until you can apply for unemployment or get another job.” The check was drawn on a bank in Babylon, and had Jack’s name on it as well. Seeing his name there in the corner made me sad. I didn’t feel anything else; no gratitude or relief. Just pulsating sadness.
Sitting there with Pam in that fabulous mansion and taking what probably amounted to her grocery money for the month pissed me off. I thought it was smart not to open my mouth. I did wonder if she was going to make this a one-time gift or if more would be coming. As long as I had something to eat or drink to occupy me while I sat there, I was safe. I felt anger building. Who did she think she was? Was this a buy out? I remembered the kind way she had acknowledged me as someone who knew Jack when I went around to her house unannounced. Why was I being such a bitch?
“It costs so much to run a household nowadays, I imagine you are petrified about doing it without any money coming in. If Jack were alive, he would know what to tell you. He would have ideas that would help you overcome this. All I can do is write a check. I haven’t worked in almost twenty-five years. I know that must seem silly to you. ‘What does this woman do with her time?’ you must be asking yourself. I often wonder how I stayed so busy, myself. What was I doing that was so important? It’s just the way one lives one’s life. I never felt like I was wasting time. Of course, with all of these stories coming out about Jack now, I realize that I have nothing to show for my life outside of my two children. You feel the same way about your daughter, don’t you? She gave you purpose. So what do we do now?”
Pam looked at me. I could feel her despair. I realized my disappointment in the way my life had turned out was nothing compared to what she has gone through. Here was someone who was completely taken by surprise after her husband died, learning of his secret life. Now I was adding extra burden to her. I was suddenly ashamed. “I can’t take this check. I don’t deserve it.” I handed it back to her.
She smiled at me, but shook her head. “No, I want you to take it. Truthfully, I was interested in seeing what your response would be, if you would take it and ask when the next one was coming, or refuse it. I’m glad you refused it, because it will make it easier for me to help you again in the future. Gosh, I feel so good right now!” She reached over from her chair to hug me.
I had sort of a creepy feeling. Was I her charity case for the day? A good deed, a slight overlooked? Or a payoff for the shitty way her husband treated me? Why couldn’t I just accept the check as a gift and get the hell out of there? I decided to go for it. I submitted to her hug and when enough time had passed, I stood up and told my first lie to her.
“I need to get back uptown. Katherine is due home soon; she had a half-day today. Thanks so much for the check. I will apply for unemployment. Don’t know why I haven’t done that already.” I picked up my purse and started walking toward the door. Pam stood by the coffee tray, gathering up our cups. I wondered if she would walk me to the door. She bent over to pick up the tray and was carrying it as she followed me out of the room to the front door. I opened the door and turned to her to say good-bye.
“Can you see yourself out?” I detected a note of something in her voice, but I couldn’t place it. Relief?
“Yes, and thank you again. Good-bye.”
She turned and walked away with the tray, toward the back of the house. I wouldn’t gain admittance again. And she trusted me not to come back and harass her mother-in-law. I wondered why I thought so little of myself, but then I remembered that I had shown up at the beach without an invitation. Maybe I wasn’t to be trusted after all.
Ashton
O
ur circle of friends knew all about Jack’s accident on the train. News spreads fast in our community. He was on the train, going home to his wife, and he had a heart attack after having a fight with his brother. Those two had been at each other’s throats for the past two years. It was a tragedy, because they’d been so close as kids, rooting for each other and protecting each other from their maniac dad.
I grew up with Jack. We played softball together in Central Park every Saturday of our lives until he left for Long Island. I knew why he did it, why he moved Pamela and the kids out there. He wanted to be free to be himself. He couldn’t do that with a wife and family over on the next block. He didn’t worry about his mother because she was a closet drunk; you could pull the wool over her eyes and she was never, ever the wiser.
We used to have the most raucous lovemaking in the morning after his father left for the office. He and his brother Bill had bedrooms on the third floor of that hideous monstrosity of a house on Columbus Circle. That is another story. I am a designer, and let me tell you, what was done to that place in the name of restoration was a travesty. Anyway, every Friday night, a big group of us would have a pizza party at Jack’s. His father was a queer from way back, but he managed to stay out of site. He may have had hidden cameras set up, for all I know. But he had too much to lose to try anything with any of his son’s friends. I was one of the few people who knew that the old man beat up on the boys pretty good. It’s a fact of life among rich people that perverse crap is allowed to go on because no one would believe it.
Jack wasn’t just bisexual. Jack loved all sex, all of the time. When we were young, Jack tried everything that came his way. If a girl was willing, he took her on. I knew I was gay as a kid and I loved Jack as a friend, so when the time came for us to couple, it was thrilling. It was the wildest sex I had as a young person. He was crazy! Jack had a violent side, too, and I may have been the one to introduce him to the S&M community. It is a safe place for people to go who want that lifestyle. He eventually hooked up with a bartender Midtown, a woman who was into it, so he had an outlet for that aspect of his life. He didn’t have to risk public exposure by practicing in a large group. It was never my thing, thank God. I am a gardener, for Christ’s sake; that’s as dirty as I want to get.
Jack was sick. I don’t think anyone realized
how
sick until he died. People whispered while he was still alive, but the real talk began after the funeral. Fortunately, everyone loved Jack, so there would be no blackmail. No one was going to go to his wife and try to get money from her or threaten her with exposure of him. I think for the most part, our circle was afraid to go to Pam, even to offer comfort.
Pam had a formidable reputation in Manhattan. Everyone knew Jack and knew what he was into, how wild and depraved he could be. But his wife, well he put her up on a pedestal. Pam may have been the only person on earth of whom he was in awe. He told me once that she wasn’t capable of having a negative thought or speaking a cruel word. He would purposely bait her to try to get her to say something hateful and she couldn’t do it. She was rarely suspicious of him, never questioning what he did with himself all week.
Jack operated by a stringent calendar. He spent certain times with certain people every hour of every day. He saw a few people daily because there was something about them that he needed for his well-being. Most people bored him after a month or two. I rarely heard of anyone being in his life for longer than a few months, at the most. Those few who made it past the six-month mark were important to him.
If a woman demonstrated the tiniest bit of possessiveness, she was out the door. Or more correctly, he was out of her door. Years ago—I think he and Pam had just moved to the beach—he was seeing a showgirl, really a dancer and not bada bing, either. She was a principle in one of the big dance companies. He was nuts about her; evidently she was insatiable, which was right up his alley. One Saturday, he was sitting on the terrace with Pam, drinking morning coffee and chatting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw this young woman on his stretch of the beach. He told me that he almost pissed himself. He asked Pam if she would make him an omelet, and she got up right away to cook it for him. He quickly walked down the wooden path to apprehend her; it was obvious she was searching for his house. She ran to him and before she could hug him, he took her arm and led her away from the view of the kitchen window.
He told her to go to a certain hotel there on the highway as you came into Babylon, and he would meet her as soon as he could get away from his wife. He asked her to please not make a scene or call the house. Jack was a superb actor, and he called forth all of his talents for this one. He was even able to make her think he was pleased to see her. She left, excited about the prospect of seeing him over a weekend, something they had never done before. He ate his omelet and then told Pam he was going to have a game of golf. She was happy for him, and went off to do whatever it was that Pam did. He was pretty free to live his life and not feel obligated to spend the day with her. Weird, isn’t it? I mean, he had this gorgeous wife—have you seen Pam? She is a knockout for a woman her age, and she was beautiful in her youth.
Anyway, as early as I can remember, the adult Jack took incriminating photographs of all his sexual escapades. He kept large, full-color copies of each and every woman he had slept with. If he couldn’t get them, he hired private investigators to do it. On this Saturday, he went into his home-office under the guise of getting his wallet, and got his stash of filthy shots of this dancer. I mean, we’re talkin’ real beaver shots, masturbatory,
grotesque-amentes
. The hotel was on the outskirts of town, but he was still careful not to be caught by anyone he knew. He went to her room and didn’t throttle her, as he really wanted to. He simply spread the contents of his photo file across the bed.
“Aren’t these lovely? I especially like this shot of you,” he said, referring to a particularly graphic pose utilizing a foreign object. “I hope we understand each other. I made it clear in the beginning that what you and I had together was private. You know about my life and what I need, and I know about yours. You almost compromised mine, and I am telling you that I will do the same thing to you if you ever, ever do anything like this again. If you ever come to my house again, or call my wife, or try to see me when we don’t have a time set up, your boss will get full-sized copies of all of these shots. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”
She was trembling, on the verge of tears. “Yes. I understand. Please don’t show those pictures to anyone, I beg you!”
Jack told me he was sorry it had come to that because he would have loved to bang her right there in that seedy hotel. But he was over it. He didn’t want to even think about what his afternoon would be like if Pam had seen him with this woman. He gathered up the photos for effect and left without saying goodbye. He never saw her again. His “dates” didn’t have his cell phone number, and although if they dug deeply enough they might get his home or apartment numbers, he never was too concerned about anyone getting in touch with Pam. He was so arrogant! And when you think about it, he didn’t get caught. He lived the life of an infidel and worse for almost thirty years and she never suspected him. As far as we know.
I got off the topic. I was telling you about Jack and me. We’ve been lovers since we were in our teens. Jack would never be able to live a gay man’s life. He wanted a hetero relationship with a home and family and a woman subservient to him. That is a cruel way to put it, and I might be somewhat off base, because Jack would support whatever Pam wanted. It just happened that she didn’t want anything more than to take care of him, like a valet. Pam was Jack’s dresser. And his personal servant. Jack told me one time that Pam spent an entire week getting his winter suits ready for him to wear. She didn’t like driving into the city, so she had him ship them all home in the spring, and she took them and had repairs made. I remember Jack saying that he came home and she had his suits hanging up all over their house, with shirts and ties selected, even socks. She wanted to make sure he had the appropriate accessories to go with each suit. She boxed everything up and shipped it back to the city for him.