Wasted Beauty (23 page)

A knocking. Rick opens his eyes. Someone is knocking on the front door. Laura has come home early! She’s lost her keys. No, Laura wouldn’t knock. Rick pulls away, Rena holds on to him. Her eyes are vague and hungry, dilated.

“Rena. I, we. You gotta go.” My god, I have an erection. And I’m still holding the goddamn carton of orange juice.

“I know. I know.” Two people in limbo.

“Yeah. We both know. I…wow. Here we are, making out like schoolkids.”

Rena says, “Is that what we’re doing?” The sadness has entered her voice. The wisdom is gone.

“I don’t know what we’re doing.” I don’t want her to be sad.

“Don’t think about it so much, Rick! When God gives you a gift, just take it.” Another knock.

Rena turns and walks to the front door. Opens it. If Laura is standing there, my marriage is over. Rena says, “Hi. What?” No, not Laura and the kids. The driver, saying something. Rena calls back to him, “Fuck! I have to get into the city. They need me.”

She runs back into the room where Rick stands, frozen. She gives him a quick kiss. “I love you. You know that? Call me later.”

And she’s gone.

SHE LEANS ACROSS THE TABLE AND SLIDES HER HAND
into his. “Come here,” she says. She tilts her face up, the warmth of her skin pulsing. “We’re being watched,” she says. Could we be any more obvious?

The Greek counterman tracks the couple in the corner. Rick thinks, You want to know how I ended up with her, don’t you? You want to know if I’m fucking her. Well, I’m not. But I will be. Or might be. If I can. If she lets me. If I can get it up. But see, that’s not important, but you wouldn’t understand. Because you can’t understand my feelings. This is bigger than your fantasies, that’s why you can’t get near my Rena.

It isn’t just the guy at the counter, it’s everyone in the diner. Everyone is watching us, because we have what everyone wants. The myths about the gods falling in love were created because people feel like gods when they fall in love. Pure emotion is a reflection of the forces of heaven. Who gets to possess pure emotion? Very few. So here it is, everybody. Take a good look. It’s not something to hide, it’s something to proclaim to the skies. I am alive! I am obsessed! She touches his face, her lips inches from his. Her touch is the gentlest touch he’s ever known. “Kiss me,” she says.

I’m doing it. I’m kissing a woman who is not my wife in a diner off the West Side Highway. Where is Laura right now? Standing by a window in the cottage, watching the kids playing? Wringing out swimsuits? Shucking corn on the cob for dinner? Is she thinking of me? I’m thinking of her. I’m thinking of you, Laura, while I’m kissing a girl in a diner on 57th Street. I am occupying a space I should not be occupying and I’m gonna burn in hell someday but I can’t help myself. How can something be bad that feels this good?

She tries to kiss him again. “I’m married, Rena, for god’s sake.”

“OK. Let’s go where no one can see us.”

“I can’t.”

“I have an idea. Tell Laura you have to go to a medical conference. And we can fly down to Saint Bart’s for a couple of days. It would be so nice. I know the best places. I’ll pay for it. It won’t show up on your credit card. We can hang out on the beach. We can swim. We can do a lot of things.”

“You’re nuts.”

“And you’re not?”

“With you I am.”

“You look angry.”

“I’m not angry. I’m confused. Rena, you’re just a kid.”

“Please stop saying that, Rick. That has nothing to do with what’s happening between us. Look into my eyes. We know each other. You know me and I know you. It’s so obvious. I know you know it. I’m here for you, just accept it. You’ve been out there my whole life, I’ve been out here your whole life. Well, almost your whole life. Look at me. Every night since I was a little girl I thought of you before I fell asleep. Because I knew you’d be in my life someday. And here you are, sitting right in front of me.”

“Yeah? And what if I’m sitting here for the wrong reason?”

“And what would that be?”

“That you’re physically beautiful, that you’re more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever been near.”

“Gee, that’s such a terrible reason! Don’t you understand, I want to be beautiful for you. For no one but you. I want that. You’re beautiful to me, too. Inside and out. Why is that so bad?”

“It just is.”

“You’re crazy.” Rena beams at him with total joy. “I don’t care if it’s wrong. Tell me to go away. It won’t change anything. I love you. I love you for all of you. Even the fucked-up parts. I see you, Rick, isn’t that obvious?”

They leave the diner and idle down 57th Street, going nowhere, content to be walking beside each other. Not even walking in a straight line, Rena leaning her hip into him as they stroll, her arm slung over his shoulder. Passersby check them out, a middle-aged doctor and his trophy babe. A fucking cliché. Sure, Rick, leave your wife, be one more statistic. And what will everyone say? They’ll laugh at you, that’s what they’ll do. They’ll hate you for hurting Laura. You’ll be a joke. You’ll have no real friends. Your kids will despise you. But you’ll have something you’ve always wanted. And what is that? What is that, Rick? He feels her beside him, emanating warmth, love, whatever it is, pure intoxication. And you know what the punch line is, pal? You leave your wife for this, and then this girl gets tired of the game the minute you give in to her. Anyway, no one’s leaving anybody. You’re just fucking around, as always. Asshole that you are. Lying to yourself. Lying to her. Because there is no truth.

Rick pulls Rena into the courtyard of a skyscraper. He leads her behind a pay phone. The world swims about them. Bits of litter blow by their feet. The stream of humanity proceeds only a few feet away, like cattle lumbering to slaughter. But here, in the epicenter of the universe, love. Do it. Kiss her as hard and as much as you want. Touch her, squeeze her. You can do what you want with her. Everyone else wants to touch her, only you can.

Kiss her. Taste her. Feel the heat under her clothing. Go now, find a bed, an alley, any place, and be with her. Never leave her.

Rick pulls away and says, “I gotta go, Rena. I gotta.” Coward.

Rena’s eyes are brimming—with tears? With lust? Does she lust for me? Is that possible? Her smile, crooked, a sad smile. All the sunshine in her drained away, replaced with this awesome melancholy. How unhappy is this girl? How unhappy are we both?

Rick leaves her propped against the side of the phone kiosk like a wasted mannequin. Within moments he is on the subway, roaring downtown. The swaying humanity around him clueless. There’s a hurricane in my heart, can’t you see it? Sleepwalkers, all. Zombies. None of you has ever had this. Never have had a smidgen of what I’ve got. Rick makes his way through the car to the end, wrenches open the door and steps out into the clamor of the flashing darkness. Roaring surrounds him. Through the Plexiglas he looks back at the illuminated blank-faced people as they rock to and fro, heads bowed over books or lolling in fake sleep. Just normal people, people in between dramas. The din of the train as massive as his heartache. This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy. The surface of the tunnel rushes past, pocked with hundreds of nooks and crannies where rats and maybe homeless people hide, like my heart, dark, unseen, unvisited. When something’s hidden, does that automatically make it sad?

RICK’S PULSE TAPS AT HIS WRISTS LIKE A MAD WOODPECKER,
in his temples, in his legs. Mouth dry. Dry mouth causes bad breath. What am I doing? What if someone I know sees me? But who would know me here? A Midtown tourist hotel? Isn’t this how history is made, by bad coincidence? Except this isn’t history, this is my life.

Rena turns and smiles at him. “Hi.” She takes his hand, moves to kiss him. He draws back. “Not here.”

“Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m either going to faint or throw up.”

“Me, too. I’ll go get the key.” Rena strides toward the front desk. That’s the way she moves, she strides. Because she’s a model, asshole. I’m in the lobby of a Midtown hotel with a twenty-one-year-old model. Why don’t I just take out a display ad in the
Times
? I’m driving the car off the cliff. Let’s go. Fuckit. It’s time. I can’t spend another minute looking into her eyes. We’ve been holding hands, we’ve been making out. What difference does this make? It’s time.

Rick observes Rena from across the lobby. The front desk people fawn over her. This is her life. She lives in a world of obsequiousness. She lives in a world where every door is open. No, better, opened for her. With a fucking bow. Yes, all of you pricks out there, you can show your teeth all you want, she’s getting in that elevator with me.

Drifting into a kind of inebriation, he memorizes her body language. Every male eye is on her and she is happy to take advantage of that fact, but she doesn’t want their eyes. She’s doing this for me. She walks for me, struts for me. Her power is terrifying. Rena gets the keys and returns to Rick. She says, “Follow me.” And he does.

They step into an elevator lined with polished wood veneer and carved froufrou. Rick catches a glimpse of his freaked-out grinning self in a chunk of decorative mirror. I am a dork. I am a lunatic. Her breath stains my lungs, my heart. I am wild. I’m a bag of snakes. A box of rabid squirrels. We’re madhouse newlyweds.

Rena takes his hand and squeezes it as the elevator door opens on their floor. A man shuffles on as they get out. His hair is wet, he needs a shave. Is he here for misconduct, too? The tired-looking guy runs his eyes over Rena in a mechanical way, as if he’s expected to give her the once-over. But Rena slips past him and moves confidently toward the door of their suite. Rick follows, dizzy with anxiety and lust.

With the door shut and locked behind them, it’s as if they have entered an amazing chamber outside the normal space-time continuum. The room itself is lifeless, fitted out in tans and yellows, the nearby skyscrapers block the sun. The bed takes up most of the space, an out-of-date TV stands in the corner. It’s an old-fashioned room, generic, cleaned a million times. Rena and Rick leave the lights off and move through the gloom like ghosts.

There are so many ways this could go wrong. There is so much pain waiting on the other side of this moment. Rick thinks, I should probably rinse out my mouth. And pee. “I have to use the bathroom,” he says.

She nods, like a kindergarten teacher. “OK.”

He leaves her standing by the end of the bed and enters the compact bathroom. The setting sun has found a chink in the skyline and warms the white tiles orange and pink.

Rick unwraps the little bar of soap and washes his hands, then wipes them on the brittle plush of the hotel towel. There I am again in the reflection over the sink. A man possessed. Happy? Is this being happy?

And now Rena is behind him, pulling him into a fierce embrace, launching into him, pressing her mouth to his, pinning him against the wall. Rick thinks, I’ve never been here before. They take a breather and he leans back, the room even darker now, her eyes mere bits of glitter floating in the perfect geometry of her face. She kisses him again, and again, her strength surprising him. There isn’t much to her, but she can pin me to the wall. Farmgirl.

I want her. Why prolong the torture any longer? He leads her back to the room and eases her onto the bed, wrapping himself into her. As they hug, he shivers. Rena whimpers. He draws himself back again and tries to look into her eyes. Tries to see the chasm he’s about to throw himself into.

But he’s blind. He stands and flicks on a lamp by the bed. She lies there watching him, expectant. He undresses, and she observes his movements as if she has no idea what he’s doing. And so, naked, and oddly vulnerable in spite of, or because of, his cantilevered prick, he comes to her and opens her blouse. The heat of her body surprises him, the perfect smoothness of her skin. I know how wonderful she is, but in fact, I can’t find any imperfection. Everything about her, her aroma, her heat, her every tactile aspect, is flawless. Must be an illusion, right? Am I so much “in love” that I’ve lost any judgment? What is judgment? An illusion.

Rena draws away, stretches across the bed and finds the clock radio. Touches it. Pop music. TLC, as if by a miracle, singing “All Night Long.” She rolls off the bed and watching him, she dances, rolling her hips slowly, drawing her jeans down off her ass like a fantasy girl, letting them bunch over her knees. She steps out of the crumpled pants. Rick thinks, see, she is wearing a thong. She unsnaps and releases her bra, lets it drop, still dancing, her full breasts animate, her ribs, belly, everything exposed as if for the first time, just for Rick. She lies down next to him. Touches him.

Nude, Rena twists her body so Rick can’t get between her legs and he embraces her awkwardly that way. Like a high school date. They kiss. They stop kissing.

“This is going very fast,” Rena says.

“Is it?” Rick says. The demon has risen. I can’t come this far only to turn back…When did I cross the line? A long time ago.

“I don’t know. This is so weird, us being naked like this. I feel funny. It’s so different.”

“Don’t you want to make love?” Wasn’t it going to be the other way around? I was going to be the one incapacitated. I still don’t know her.

“I…”

“We’ll do whatever you feel comfortable doing.” I’m an idiot. This has been my idea all along. She doesn’t want this. You saw it coming, pal.

“Just hold me.”

Rick holds her, skin pressing skin, electric with nerves and lust, and his head fills with Laura and the children. This situation is something I better get away from as quickly as I can. Should. Should do that. Right now. Should. Fuck should. Look what she’s making me do! She’s testing me. And I can’t help myself. She is a naked angel. How can a man turn away from a naked angel? How is that possible? But I’m not hard anymore. Why? I don’t care. I don’t care about sex.

Rick thinks, we’re not fucking. We’re doing something else here.

“Look at me. Look into my eyes.” And he does. Cornflowers. The blue of the sky on the most wonderful day of the year. This girl’s beauty is not like any beauty I’ve ever known. I’ve slept with beautiful women. This is some kind of endless, infinitely transforming beauty. She’s different every time I look at her. Today, like a little girl, innocent. She’s letting me look at her. Like a surrender.

“What are you doing, Rena…”

“Just hold me. Shhhhh.”

And she falls asleep in his arms.