Promise Me Eternity (10 page)

An older man was standing completely still,
peering into the front window of the Sofia hairdressing salon. He
was amazed at what he saw: her face, eyes, lips. The similarity was
incredible: as if he were looking at his wife.

“Oh,” he groaned dispiritedly. He thought of
when they had been together and everything was nice and
peaceful.

Dr. Miner became aware he was staring too
long, and looked away. His eyes followed the leaves that were being
carried along the wide sidewalk by the wind.
You went away as
well. You left me all alone. Why did you do it? I miss you.

He turned his head back toward the salon. His
gaze fell on her hips, which were gently swaying and filling him
with desire. She had almost the same color hair, which fell gently
to her shoulders. And those eyes: warm eyes that sometimes glowed.
He kept breathing in deeply to lessen his inner pain.

It seemed as if they caught each other’s eye.
As if glued to the spot, he stood there trembling and in spite of
the cool wind, his back felt as if it were burning. He looked down
so she wouldn’t suspect anything and moved on without looking
back.

When he was a good hundred yards from the
salon he stopped. He considered going in for a haircut.
No, I
don’t want that. I must resist the temptation
. He walked
on.

Then he turned.
I must see her up close.
She is so beautiful. And my hair really is too long.

A minute or so later he opened the door to
the salon and took a seat in the waiting area.

Chapter 18

_______________________

Agitated, Helen Patterson marched up and down
the room looking at herself in the different dresses that she had
laid out on the bed. All of the thirty evening dresses seemed long
out of style. The more she looked at them the more they disgusted
her. She sat on the bed in despair.

A month earlier, Simon had reluctantly told
her that they were invited to one of his patient’s homes for
dinner. “If you don’t want to go, dear, we don’t have to,” he had
added.

She looked at him with interest. “What kind
of patient and why is he inviting us to dinner?”

In a weary tone he said, “I don’t know,
darling. His name’s Carlo Vucci. He had a serious car accident and
I had to operate on him. Anyway, he’s OK now and he would like to
thank me. I told him there was no need, but ….”

She was wondering why the name was familiar.
She was sure she had heard it before but couldn’t remember where.
“I’d very much like to go,” she said.

Simon put his glass of milk down and thought
for a while. “Fine, then we’ll go. I hope it doesn’t go on too
long.”

The next day in the salon Helen asked who
Carlo Vucci was. Her co-worker Nicole replied, “What? You really
don’t know who Carlo Vucci is? Which planet are you on, darling?
Have you never seen that house on the west side of town by Fifth
Avenue? It’s a real castle the guy bought.”

Helen remembered in a moment. A year earlier
his wife had come into the salon. They had all turned and admired
how beautiful she was. She was tall and slender, with long,
honey-blond hair parted in the middle. Helen had immediately
calculated how much her clothes were worth and it took her breath
away. On her professionally manicured hand there glittered a
magnificent platinum ring set with a pink diamond. Her wrist was
adorned with a heavy bracelet of white gold studded with small
jewels. To Helen’s surprise, Mrs. Vucci’s neck was bare.

After that, the women talked for quite some
time about her and about Carlo Vucci. She found out he was one of
the richest men in town, and dealt mainly in real estate. He was
said to own a number of hotels and other properties.

On the way home Helen was in a bad mood. She
thought about how her life had taken a wrong turn, and became
increasingly convinced it was Simon’s fault.
Maybe I should get
a divorce,
she thought.
Maybe there’s still time to meet
someone who would really be worth something.
She remembered the
oldish guy who had come in for a haircut. He must have been at
least sixty, completely gray. He boasted about having a lot of
money and told her how his wife had died recently. As he was
leaving, he winked at her broadly and put a business card in her
hand. The card had only his name, Robert Miner, and his phone
number on it. He’d left her an enormous tip with which she’d be
able to buy some new shoes later.
Maybe I will call him.

Helen made Simon pasta for supper. Though she
remembered she had done the same three days earlier, she didn’t
feel like cooking anything more substantial. While preparing the
meal, her thoughts were on the Vuccis.

When he finally appeared from the laboratory,
she immediately went on the attack. “When are we invited to the
Vuccis?”

“Wednesday evening,” Simon replied in a
friendly voice. He smelled the aroma of spaghetti with Bolognese
sauce. Resigned to his fate, he glanced at the pan on the stove.
The hunger he had felt earlier evaporated. He decided to go first
to the bathroom to throw some water on his face.

“Where are you rushing off to? We’ve got to
talk.”

“About what?”

“About the dinner, of course. I’m not sure if
you’ve any idea who Carlo Vucci is.”

While walking away, he said, “I heard he has
quite a bit of money and that he’s involved in some shady business.
To tell you the truth, I don’t like him.”

His reply caused her to flush. Simon was
always suspicious of people with lots of money. In his opinion,
they were all cheats. Helen clutched at her chest and tried to keep
her voice calm. “He’s an incredibly important guy and this meeting
could change our lives. Are you at all aware of that?”

“How do you mean, change our lives?”

She waited impatiently for him to come back
from the bathroom. She put a heavily laden plate on the table. But
as soon as he sat down she pulled it away from him, which meant she
wanted to have a serious talk. She was doing him a favor, because
he found the smell of canned meat increasingly hard to take.

She sat opposite him and raised her eyebrows.
What she had to tell him seemed terribly important so she chose her
words carefully. “This man obviously feels extremely grateful to
you. I’m sure he wants to repay you in some way. Do you understand
what I’m trying to say?”

“Of course I do.”

Again she paused for thought. “If you get
friendly with him, you could persuade him to invest in a private
clinic, in which you would have some kind of stake. You could do
what you want there. You could be the director. What do you
say?”

Simon looked away and rolled his eyes. He
felt that she had their future all planned out. He almost felt like
laughing. “Listen, my love. You know me well enough to know that I
have certain principles. I’m not going to get tangled up with
crooks. It’s too dangerous.”

Her cheeks stretched tight and her eyes
bulged slightly, the first sign of inner tension. “What crooks?
What nonsense are you talking? The man is grateful to you for
saving his life, and we’re not going to do anything other than
benefit from his influence. Is that so hard to do?”

“You’ve not met him and you don’t know what
he’s like. I have, and from the way he behaves I’d swear that he’s
on the wrong side of the law—”

“So why did you accept his dinner
invitation?”

“He was so insistent. I resisted as much as I
could, but he wouldn’t give up. I think it’s best if we politely
attend his dinner and then we shall never see each other again.
When you meet him, you’ll understand.”

Helen pushed the plate of pasta back in front
of him. “There’s no talking to you. Whenever there’s an
opportunity, you fail to grab it. Are you even aware that time is
going by?”

“What do you mean?”

“Neither of us is twenty anymore. I want to
get something out of life.”

Simon was surprised by her attack. “I don’t
see who’s stopping you.”

“You are, Simon. You’re stopping me. Ever
since I’ve been with you, nothing happens to me. Every day is
exactly the same.”

“Then find something to liven it up,” he
said, trying to keep his anger in check.

“I will, too. Don’t you worry. I’ve had
enough of this stupid, boring existence.”

She went into the garden.

He figured the best thing to do was let her
sulk outside and she’d soon cool down. He could still barely stand
the smell assaulting his nostrils. He took his plate and, scowling,
carried it to the toilet. Simon flushed it with pleasure and
watched the pasta disappear into the black hole. Then he cut
himself a thick slice of white bread, put two slices of cheese on
it, and went to the basement.

Helen finally chose the right dress. She put
it on quickly and hurried to the bathroom. She heard her husband
banging about in the kitchen. “Are you ready, dear?”

“Ages ago. I’ll go to the lab while you’re
getting ready.”

She answered in a husky voice, “Don’t, you’ll
mess up your suit again. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

She used a cleanser and then put on some face
cream, added a thin layer of powder, and emphasized her lips with a
strong red lipstick. Finally, she did her eyes, coloring them with
blue-green eye shadow. She had also bought some new, expensive
mascara for the occasion, justifying its purchase for such an
important visit, and so the cost didn’t matter.

She took one last look in the mirror. She was
happy with her hair, which she had had done in the salon before
leaving work. But she was not too pleased with her dress. It was
the best she had, but nothing like the kind she would really
like.

Simon was sitting at the table reading a
scientific journal. The article reported on people attempting to
slow down the aging process. They spent hours every week at the gym
and took various vitamin supplements to stay fit.
What they’re
doing isn’t bad,
he thought,
but it has little to do with
aging. When my vaccine is on the market—.

“Come on! I thought you said you were
ready.”

He jumped when he heard her voice. “I am.
Shall we go?”

“We’re late already. You still don’t have
your shoes on.” Helen scrutinized him up and down. “What about your
tie? Where’s your tie?”

“I thought I’d go without—”

“No way. I told you already, it’s an
extremely important visit. You can’t be without a tie. Go and put
one on, please. And not that brown one you always wear. Take the
blue one with the red pattern that I bought for your birthday. And
put on the dark-blue jacket. It’ll go well with your pants.”

Because he didn’t want to argue he went for
his tie and jacket.

The drive was unusually silent. Once, Helen
commented that it was time they got a new car. “This old piece of
junk is already eight years old. How long are we going to keep
driving it?”

“We’ll get a new one next year,” he replied.
He thought she would keep going on about the car but to his
amazement she stayed quiet.
Obviously, she’s too busy thinking
about how to behave at dinner.

When they finally arrived at the property,
Helen was beside herself with excitement. “Look how much land
they’ve got! He must be rolling in it!”

Simon slowed the car on the long
driveway.

She exclaimed, “Will you look at that
mansion!” She admired the carefully tended shrubbery on the left.
When she saw the enormous two-story house up close, she gasped. On
the second floor she counted six large windows. Together with the
first floor, she counted fifteen. The façade was a brick-red color,
which in combination with the white windows and magnificent
entrance pillars, created an impression of grandeur.

She pointed to the right. “Look at that maze!
I can’t believe it.”

Simon glanced at the maze made out of
rosemary bushes, which was about twenty yards across. He said
nothing.

“What a house! It could hold at least five
big families.” She grabbed his shoulder and shook it. “Isn’t it
heavenly?”

“Stop shaking me, we’ll crash.”

When they stopped on the drive in front of
the house, a young man in a dark-blue suit was waiting for them. He
opened the door on Helen’s side. Simon reached for his door
handle.

Helen hissed at him, “Wait, damn it! You’ll
ruin everything.”

He instantly pulled his hand back and looked
at her in surprise. “What did I do wrong?”

“Wait for the servant to open your door!”

He was relieved it was nothing worse.

When Helen had elegantly gotten out, the
young man bowed and welcomed her. With her head up, she looked
around and hardly replied. Then the young man went to Simon’s side
and opened his door.

“There you are, sir. Welcome to Mr. and Mrs.
Vucci’s estate.”

Dr. Patterson smiled and wished him good
day.

The servant pointed toward the entrance with
both hands and bowed politely.

“Welcome!” said Carlo Vucci, coming toward
them. A cap covered the short hair that had grown back after the
operation. “Dinner will be ready soon. I just checked.” He gave
them his hand. “You have an unbelievably beautiful wife, Dr.
Patterson.”

Delighted, Helen gushed, “And you have a
really wonderful house.”

“Thanks. I’m very grateful to anyone who
praises it. This house means a lot to me and I’ve invested a lot of
time and a great deal of money in it. If you like, I can give you a
quick tour. While we’re looking around, my wife, Christine, will
join us.”

Helen was pleased. Carlo Vucci seemed to her
incredibly charming and, in spite of his years, an attractive man.
He radiated power and confidence, which attracted her.

“All the furniture you’ll see on the first
floor is Baroque, from the first half of the eighteenth century.
That’s the period in which I’d like to have lived. You won’t
believe this, but we also have a wardrobe of Baroque clothes.”