Summer Accommodations: A Novel (33 page)

At the threshold of the door to the waiters' quarters I stopped. What point in going inside now? Who would I wish to see there? I went down to the bar to be alone, have a few drinks and then go to bed after everyone else was asleep. I had no desire to drink myself into drunkenness or be a maudlin barfly, it was just somewhere to go other than my room. Julie, the bartender, smirked when I sat down. “Tom Collins?” he asked in a sarcastic voice, but before I could answer Louisa, the dance instructor, sidled up to the bar and said, “No, no, we'll have two seven and sevens and make it snappy, Julie, I need a drink.” Louisa was probably at least twice my age, thirty-six or seven. We had rarely spoken but acknowledged each other with smiles and friendly nods when passing around the hotel. She was very attractive and there were times, before Sarah had come into my life, that I'd daydreamed about her so it was especially peculiar for her to be joining me just as Sarah was pulling away. She sat on the bar stool next to me and patted my shoulder. She'd already been drinking before she arrived and her hair reeked of cigarette smoke.

“It's Mel, isn't it?” she asked, lighting up a Pall Mall, “I know you were sometimes called Jack but I'll call you Mel. My brother Myron has a real problem with his name but there isn't a short version like Mel. I mean what would it be, My? This is my brother, My. I'd sound like a stammerer.” She laughed and took another deep drag from her cigarette. “I heard about your girlfriend problem so I thought I'd give you some company tonight.” Our drinks arrived and she quickly took a large swallow of hers while I sipped at mine. “Drink up, drink up, you'll feel better. It's what's helped me through my love affairs.”

“How did you hear about me and Sarah?”

“People talk, Mel, people talk. Here they talk about very few things, tans, weight, money and sex. You and Sarah were pretty obviously … well, you were going with each other so people talked when she went to visit her old boyfriend.” The ash on her cigarette had extended a gravity defying distance from the ember and before it collapsed on the bar she tapped it into the ashtray with an elegant gesture. It was a skill she'd mastered because I'd seen her perform that trick before. It had men staring expectantly at her cigarette waiting to see if she'd miscalculate the burn time and drop ashes all over herself, but she never did. “I know this is hard to believe, but you'll survive this and get over it. First loves never last. It took me a long time to get over my first love,… she's your first love isn't she?” I nodded. “Yeah, mine was a Steve. A lawyer. He came up here with his wife and kids my first summer as a dance instructor. I was such a sucker for him I could kick myself from here to Canarsie. Don't you like your drink you're not drinking it. Julie, another seven and seven please. Yeah, he was a lawyer of the tall dark and handsome variety. He signed up for lessons his first day here. Said he wanted to learn everything I could teach him but it was pretty clear pretty fast he wasn't talking about dancing.” She shook her head ruefully, took a puff from her smoke and then finished her drink. Her mouth was always busy; talking, drinking, smoking at any given moment. It was amazing she had time to breathe. “He wore these loafers with tassels on them. I couldn't take my eyes off his feet when I was teaching him because those tassels looked so stupid to me.” I laughed, and thought about the belt on the back of my khaki pants. “What's that, I kept asking myself, how do you fall for a guy with dumb tassels on his shoes?” And she began to laugh at her own story.

“How could you fall for a guy who wears shoes with tassels,” I teased, joining in with her laughter.

“That wasn't even the worst of it, that was just his shoes. He said he'd leave his wife, Judy, but not until after his mother died. She had a weak heart and wasn't long for this world but he didn't want to be the one to do her in. She'd croak if he ever left Judy because she
luuhhved
Judy even more than she
luuhhved
him, her own son. What a load of crap.” Louisa downed her second drink in one long swallow and waved her glass at Julie who nodded and poured another. “Love's a killer, Mel, a real killer. I wish I could live without it”

“Well, beware of lawyers bearing tassels,” I said, pushing away from the bar. I hadn't wanted company, certainly not like hers.

“Hey!” she said in a loud voice that made people turn to look at us, “You have to see the whole picture. You're just a kid, what the hell do you know about anything,” she said, wagging a finger at me. The seven and sevens had transported Louisa to the nasty subbasement of intoxication. More embarrassed than angry, I blushed and started to leave. “Don't go, baby, I'm sorry. Louisa is getting the meanies, isn't she? Sit down, stay a while, come on, don't leave.” “No, I really have to. Long day coming up, the regular meals and, you know, a big steak dinner.” “Yeah, yeah. Go on, it's okay, you're too young for me anyway.” She took another mouthful of her drink and scanned the bar. “Way too young.”

I was relieved to get away. Another broken heart, I thought, as I walked back towards my room. When you add it all up, the amount of time spent hoping and searching for love and the amount of time spent pining and grieving for a lost love probably exceeds the time spent actually loving by a factor of at least three. Still, when you have it, when you are in love with someone who makes you feel loved, well, who would want to live without that?

It was still too early to go back to my room so I wandered over to the main building of the hotel and watched the guests rocking on the front porch. I recognized a pair of couples from one of my tables. They had pulled their chairs into a little semicircle and were gently rocking while exchanging pleasantries. I didn't want them to see me. I didn't want to have to make idle conversation or pretend that everything was fine. I moved quickly away to the side and into the hotel parking lot. Walking between the cars I was able to pass unnoticed through the guest parking closest to the hotel's main building. It was cold. I could see the vapors of my breath when I exhaled through my mouth. The temperature was saying the summer was almost over. The cars that had been driven only recently radiated their engines' heat through their hoods. Now, as the steel contracted back to its resting shape, it emitted sudden metallic pings. The cars made me think of people, couples, together, easy, talking and laughing or just being. They'd have gone to town or to a movie and then driven back and parked, strolled back to their cabins or rooms, comfortable, unhurried. Then, once inside and alone, they'd undress, bathe, touch, and make love. At least that's how I thought I'd do it when it'd be me taking a vacation with my wife. Wife? Right then I wasn't even sure I still had a girlfriend, why was I thinking wife? But why not? Isn't a part of one's youth spent living in the imagined future?

I kept walking farther and farther back between the cars until I reached the area reserved for the hotel staff's cars. There were no metallic pings or warm hoods back here. Then I heard the creak of a car's springs somewhere nearby. Standing still and waiting I heard the creak again only now it had become a rocking and repetitive rhythm. I looked around trying to locate the car, hoping I was not standing too near. I had no interest in intruding on a couple after what had happened to me in the old shed when I was with Rosie. The rhythmic creak became more rapid and urgent and then I saw it was Harlan's car that was rocking and swaying four or five car lengths away from where I was standing. He must be with Heidi, I thought, and not wanting to embarrass her, Harlan probably didn't know the meaning of that word, I hunched down right where I was. The creaking ceased just as I did that, as though they'd seen me duck and they had frozen. I peeked over the fender of the car I had knelt next to and tried to see what they were doing but the windows of the car were fogged with the moisture of their breath. There was some laughter and the muffled sound of voices, but I couldn't discern what was being said. Then I realized they probably didn't know I had stumbled upon them and were very happy on their own, pleased and content. I squatted down again thinking of how to get away without bringing attention to myself when I heard the car door unlatch and swing open. Like a child I squeezed my eyes closed and ducked my head. The sound of a woman's squeal, the sound of a slap on the metal of the car and then Harlan's laugh made me look up. From the back I saw the long ponytail, like Heidi's, but this girl was smoking a cigarette, something Heidi would never do. She took a long drag and turned as she exhaled so her face was hidden in a dense foggy cloud of moist breath and smoke when, holding the cigarette aloft she said, “I only do this for you.” I knew that voice. I knew it as well as any face. I didn't have to wait for the smoke to drift away or even look up to know it was Sarah, my Sarah, who was speaking.

I heard a groan that made the marrow of my bones rumble. The groan grew louder and stronger. Then a loud cry, a disembodied sound, a single shrill and resounding word: “NOOOO!!” assaulted the night, awoke the sleeping crows whose carping cries of alarm startled me into the awareness that it was I whose howl had shattered the stillness. I sank to my knees weeping and covered my face with my hands. The sound of clicking car door locks and hurried footsteps did not raise my gaze. I was helpless with sobbing. Finally, I rubbed my eyes and rose like someone lost and confused. Harlan's car, still and empty, was just a few feet away. Stumbling forward I touched its cold hood and then, abruptly, snapped the radio antenna from its base and flung it away into the darkness. Achieving no satisfaction from that impulsive act and adorned with guilt I looked up at the star filled sky and for an instant felt the terror of insignificance that had gripped me as a child on my first trip to the planetarium. We are nothing. But, then, why such pain if we are nothing? Why?

They were gone. A man approached, I didn't know who he was, maybe a guest, maybe a member of the security staff, it didn't matter. He put his face directly in front of mine and stared into my eyes. He said, “keep it down people are trying to sleep” and left. I was glad he didn't ask me if I was okay. I was definitely not okay.

In an almost stuporous state I wandered out of the parking lot. I found myself trying to deny what I had seen, arguing that it wasn't possible, that it was
impossible
because Sarah didn't trust or like Harlan and would never be alone and intimate with him. I began to retch. This whole thing was disgusting. Who was it in the cloud of smoke if not her? Who? As much as I wished to deceive myself it was useless. I knew the music of her voice, the ballet of her gestures, the costume of her falling coiffure. My heart was broken.

I went to the lake knowing I would not sleep that night, maybe never sleep again. There was no other place to go and be left alone. Surely I could not return to my room, not there with Harlan who would deny that he was in the car, deny that Sarah would ever be with him, deny, deny, deny. I walked onto the dock and stared down into the lake. The water was very still, I remember, as if poised to receive my body. A numbness shut out the cold of the late August night. Did I want to die? Did I want to be found dead in the bulrushes along the opposite shore where the stray tennis balls washed aground? Did I want to give up my life before it had even begun?

“What are you staring at?” The voice was deep and patient. “Do you think there is peace there in the water? Do you?” I looked at the man. It was Abe but an Abe I had never seen before. He seemed taller, straighter, more dignified. “Come with me, come away from the water. Come on,” he gestured, beckoning me to approach him. He was so different from the man I thought I knew it made me wonder if the entire night was some kind of bizarre hallucination, a lapse into madness. “Don't talk, it's all right. I know why you are standing on the edge. Come away from there, come with me and sit down over here,” he said, motioning to the lawn chairs on the grass, “I will tell you a story that maybe can help you with your disappointment,” he said softly.

“Disappointment? DISAPPOINTMENT!!!?? You do not have the words for what I'm feeling. Don't think you can just…”

“Enough! Don't speak to me in that tone. Listen to me, don't be so arrogant.” His voice was firm and authoritative again the way he had sounded when he'd first called out to me. “I told you that Harlan was missing something and now it is clear how much he is missing. He is missing loyalty, he is missing compassion and, worst of all, he is missing a conscience. A man with a conscience could not do what he has done to you and to everyone that he charms. I have known men like him, cunning men. They are jackals. I know because I have been betrayed just like you.” A cascade of questions threatened to pour from my mouth but I knew there was nothing for me to do but listen. What was occurring was remarkable, a singular event that had to be respected. Abe was going to reveal his secret to me.

“Some young men can be very vulnerable, Melvin, always on the lookout for new fathers, new heroes to mold themselves after. They may not even know it themselves but it is a function of their youth. Harlan knows that and recognizing it in you he despised you for it, yes, despised you, don't look so surprised it is the truth. He saw you as weak and he detested you for that. He respects Ron. He knows Ron is strong and independent. He also knows that Ron recognizes what he is so he woos you with false confusion about Ron's mistrust and dislike. He reeled you in like a perch from the lake and you practically jumped into his net, eager to be in his company, eager to learn.” I must have grimaced because, though I didn't attempt to speak, Abe raised his hand as if to stop me. “Shush, shush, let me talk. Maybe it will help you. Then you can have your turn.” We settled into the dampness of the lawn chairs and sat side by side while Abe continued. “It was so many years ago and yet there are days when it feels as fresh as right now. It involved a woman and a friend, just like you, it's an old story, happens all the time, but when it is your story, well … I don't have to tell you. I don't even know if you can hear me right now. My ears were ringing for weeks after she … after it happened.”