The Misfortunes of Others
Page 12
“That’s good,” said Vince.
“What?” asked Weezy. She had flushed deeply at the recollection.
“That look. You look far away.”
Far away in the Land of Humiliation, thought Weezy, turning and posing as instructed. Mercifully, it was soon over. Vince nodded and began to put away his camera. “Thanks a lot.”
“I wonder if I could show some of my students’ work as well?” Weezy asked timidly.
Vince glanced over at Gabriela, who shook her head. “No pictures, if you don’t mind, Weezy,” she said. “The article’s about you. You can talk about them later, if you want.”
They went back into the living room and sat down on the sofas. Gabriela took out her tape recorder again. Weezy regarded it fearfully. She always felt so inhibited when she knew she was being taped. Her voice took on a funny singsong cadence and, on playback, she always sounded like a stranger to herself: a distant relative, with an entirely different sort of voice. Someone she did not know at all.
“When did you first begin to paint?”
Weezy talked about her childhood, painting in her room when she was young; then, gaining confidence (it really is so easy to talk about yourself, she thought) she spoke about her recent career, her gallery shows, her students. She mentioned all of them by name. She made it clear that this was a master class of her best students, artists who were nearly ready to go out on their own. Then, under Gabriela’s prodding, she talked about her move to Ridgewood (by silent mutual consent, boyfriends past and present were never mentioned; Weezy talked about the hubbub of New York and the peace and quiet of Connecticut, nothing more) and her life there. She spoke enthusiastically about her new exhibit and her hopes for the future. When Gabriela turned off her recorder and packed it away, Weezy felt perversely disappointed. But I have more to say about myself, she felt like shouting; much, much more!
“Thank you very much,” said Gabriela.
“Oh, you’re welcome. My pleasure. Thank you for calling me.”
“Well, as I told you, I’m a big fan. I, ummm, I always tell Harold that.” She glanced sideways at Weezy.
“Oh. Yes.”
Weezy showed them to the door and shook hands with both of them. Vince ambled out to the car. Gabriela turned to go, then turned back suddenly.
“Weezy …”
“Yes?”
“I guess you think it’s crazy, my calling you like this.”
“No. No, I don’t at all. I was … flattered.”
“I’m sorry everything’s so awkward because of Harold.”
“Harold has a genius for making things awkward,” Weezy said dryly, and for a moment they laughed quietly together, two women in silent accord.
“Well, I think the article’s going to turn out great. I’ll let you know when it’s coming out.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Good-bye,” said Gabriela. “Thanks very much for your time.”
“Good-bye.”
Afterward, Weezy felt despondent. She went into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of white wine and picked up the phone.
“I think I made a fool out of myself,” she said to Maya. “Oh, yes, I did. No, it didn’t go well. How could I have let Harold’s girlfriend into my house? Into my life? How could I have let her come here and interview me? Snooky was right after all. I was blinded by greed. Would you put him on? Do you mind?”
She waited, thrumming listlessly with her fingers against the countertop.
“Hello, Snooky. You were right. It was ridiculous. Why did I let her come here? Why do you think she wanted to come? Just to see the harridan Harold used to live with? What?”
A pause.
“No, I don’t think she and Harold are admirers of my work. Harold never cared for my work one way or another. I could have painted my face blue and my nose green and stood on my head for all he cared.”
She sniffled.
“Yes, I’d love some company. You don’t mind coming over? Good, I’m sure Maya and Bernard are sick to death of you. How long have you been here, anyway? Aren’t you leaving soon? You’re staying until the baby’s born? Have you told Bernard that yet? No? Good idea. Okay, we’ll throw something together here for dinner. I’m not hungry.”
She hung up and sat down at the kitchen table, playing idly with her wineglass. Outside, the day continued sunny and warm, undisturbed by her turbulent state of mind. She hated the weather. She hated herself. She sighed and sipped her wine. As always when she was upset or moved by something, she saw her emotions in her mind’s eye painted in vivid colors: dark red, the color of blood. Purple. A swirl of deep cerulean blue.
When Snooky rang the doorbell and let himself in, she went straight up to him and threw her arms around him. He leaned down to give her a hug. His heart skipped a beat.
“I’m so upset,” she said, drawing away and wiping her eyes.
“If you made love with me, maybe it would make you feel better about Harold.”
“I’m not that upset. Is Maya mad that I asked you to come over instead of her?”
“She didn’t seem to be. Her last words when I left were, ‘Thank God you’re getting out of here at last.’ Why did you ask me, by the way?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I needed a man around. Besides, you’re a wonderful cook and I know you’ll take care of me.”
He followed her into the living room. “Fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is that the problem?”
“Yes. Why did I let her in here? I feel so violated.”
“You kept telling me that the only important thing was that she worked for a certain magazine.”
“That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. I was terribly, terribly wrong. I hated her, and I hated myself. I had no dignity.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. You have innate dignity.”
Weezy poured him a glass of wine. “No, no, no. I was ridiculous. I groveled at the altar of instant fame. When the interview was over, I wanted to talk longer, Snooky. I loved talking about myself. And she saw it all, and she must have thought I was ridiculous. Who in their right mind would let their lover’s new girlfriend into their house the way I did? Oh, I feel so … so low.”
“Did she talk about him at all?”
“Just a little, at the end.”
“Maybe she called you because she’s always wondered about you and she couldn’t help herself when an opportunity came up. Maybe Harold talks about you all the time and it makes her crazy. Maybe she feels just as insecure as you do.”
Weezy gave him a withering look. “Maybe little green men are going to come down from the planet Vor and take me away to live in luxury on the moon.”
“You don’t have to be snide. I’m just trying to help.”
“You don’t understand anything.”
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing I don’t understand. If they’re from the planet Vor, why would they carry you away to our moon? Wouldn’t they have a moon of their own? Why wouldn’t they take you back to Vor itself?”
There was a silence.
“Deadly gases in the Vorian atmosphere, perhaps,” mused Snooky. “Inhospitable to human life.”
“Would you like some more wine? Not that you need any, the way you’re babbling on.”
“I’d love some.”
Later, he made her dinner (chicken breasts cooked with peaches; frozen broccoli, which he steamed and then lathered with butter; a spinach salad with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and garlic dressing). Weezy dug a cherry cobbler out of the back of the fridge, and they shared it for dessert. They ate in the dining room, under a skylight which Weezy had had installed at the same time that her studio was being remodeled. Overhead, the moon winked solemnly, a yellow orb floating in the dark blue sky.
“It’s like a primitive astronomical observatory here.” Snooky tilted his head back.
“My plants love all the light. Oh, God, that’s something I blathered in the interview today. But it’s true.”
Weezy smiled faintly. “We are alike there, Snooks. You and I. We both like to live well.”
“Nothing but the best.”
“That’s right.”
Snooky leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “Then why not be together?”
Weezy flushed a deep red. “Don’t ask me that,” she whispered.
“Why not?”
“Don’t pester me today. Pester me tomorrow.”
“Why not today?”
“I’m weak today.” She withdrew her hand.
Snooky regarded her thoughtfully over his wineglass. “All right.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s very gentlemanly of you.”
“Thank you.”
“Some more wine?”
“No, thanks.” He tilted back his head again. “Look at that moon. It’s like being at Stonehenge, having dinner here.”
“You mean cold, dark and unwelcoming?”
He smiled at her and took her hand, in a friendly way this time. “No. Don’t take everything so personally. Just a little chitchat about the moon. Have you ever been to Stonehenge?”
“No. I’m sure you have. You’ve been everywhere.”
“I don’t know about everywhere, but I’ve been to Stonehenge all right.”
“Tell me about it,” said Weezy, and settled back in her seat.
When Snooky let himself into his sister’s house later that evening, he found Maya and Bernard cuddling together in front of the TV set.
“This is all you do while I’m out?” he said, coming in and throwing his jacket down on the armchair. “This is the best you can do?”
“Shut up, Snooky,” they said simultaneously.
“What’s this?”
The TV screen was filled with what looked like blood vessels stretched over a filmy membrane.
“Nova,” said Maya. “The development of a human fetus. They’re up to two months. Shut up now, Snooky, I’m trying to see what my baby looks like.”
“Did you ever wonder how they take these pictures?”
“Be quiet, Snooky. There, Bernard, where are they now? What’s that, around ten weeks?”
Maya and Bernard leaned forward, their mouths open, drinking in the sight of the fetus floating in space. Its gigantic head nodded at them familiarly. It turned and rotated in its blurry red world.
“Hard to believe,” said Snooky. “Looks like a mutated shrimp. Looks like one of those giant Frisian Island shrimps I thought Bernard was cooking the day I arrived.”
“Go to your room,” said Maya. “Leave us alone.”
“I’m in love with your best friend.”
“What?”
Snooky repeated himself. Maya stared at him blankly.
“You’ve always had a thing about Weezy. It’s nothing serious. You’re always attaching yourself leechlike to somebody or other.”
“I’m in love with her, Missy.”
Maya waved him away irritably. “Go to your room. Clean it up or something.”
“I’m not eight years old anymore, Missy. You can’t order me to my room. Anyway, it’s not my room, it’s your room. Your spare guest room.”
“It could be your room for all the time you’ve spent in it,” rumbled Bernard.
“Thank you, Bernard. And thank you, Maya, for that heart-to-heart talk.”
“I’m sorry,” Maya said later. She came into Snooky’s room and sat down cross-legged on his bed.
“About what?” Snooky put down the paperback he had been reading.
“For not listening to you before. We really wanted to see what the baby looks like.”
“Did you find out?”
“Yes.”
“How does it look?”
“Like nothing human,” said Maya, shuddering slightly. “Like something from outer space. What’s that you’re reading?”
“Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky.”
Maya looked closer at the cover. “In French?”
“I picked it up the last time I was in Paris. It’s not bad.”
“Why not read it in English?”
Snooky shrugged and tossed the book aside. The one thing he had excelled at in college had been his language courses. It had made his older brother William very happy, until he realized that Snooky’s language ability simply made it easier for him to wander the globe as he pleased.
“You’ve always been good at languages.”
“Ah, well. Merci.”
“Listen, about Weezy …”
Maya’s voice trailed away. There was a heavy silence.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what to say. You’ve always had a thing for her.”
“Yes.”
“Ever since you were little, you used to tag after her and look at her funny.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t think she’s really open to a new relationship right now, Snooks. Not after what happened with Harold. She’s been pretty badly burned, you know. She’s throwing herself into her work instead.”
“I know.”
“Plus, I don’t like it. I mean, she’s my best friend and everything, and you’re my younger brother. It doesn’t seem right. It makes me feel uncomfortable.”
“Gee, that’s too bad, isn’t it, Missy? I would hate to disturb your perfect life in any way or make you feel uncomfortable.”
Maya flushed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you have a relationship, maybe with someone who’s very strange, but a relationship anyway. You’re happy. I would hate to disturb you by seeking a little happiness of my own.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Really? Then what did you mean?”
“I have news for you, Snooks, Weezy’s not interested in you anyway. She’s known you her whole life, it would be incestuous. She’s like your other big sister. She’s told me again and again she’s not interested.”
Snooky reddened. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what she really feels, you just know what she tells you. Did it ever occur to you that maybe she didn’t want to disturb you or mess up your friendship?”
“That’s stupid. You’re just being stupid.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I would never stand in the way of anybody else being happy. That’s not the point.”
“What’s the point, then, big sister?”
“The point is that even if the two of you go out for a while, then you’ll break up, just as you have with countless other women, and it’ll be awkward the rest of our lives! It’s a situation we’ll have to live with forever!” Maya was shouting, her face red.
“You mean a situation you’ll have to live with forever.”
“Yes, that’s what I mean!”
“Well, I’m sorry if my feelings make you so damned uncomfortable, Maya. I’m sorry if my feelings are disturbing you. Far be it from me to set up a bad situation for you by how I feel about your best friend! God knows the only thing Weezy and I should be thinking about in this situation is you, you and you!”
“That’s not what I meant—” began Maya, but her brother was gone. The old rickety door slammed shut, and then bounced open and swung slowly to and fro on its hinges.
“Didn’t you leave here a couple of hours ago, or have you been standing on my porch this entire time?” asked Weezy, opening her front door.
“Can I stay here, just for tonight?” Snooky looked at her forlornly.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I had a big fight with Maya.”
“With Maya? The sweetest-tempered person in the world? Over what?”
Snooky shrugged. She looked at his face for a long moment. “Come on in.”
She settled him on the sofa and brought them both cups of tea with honey. “Now tell me all about it, there’s
a dear boy. Spill out your heart to your old Aunt Weezy.”
“I can’t.”
“Why in the world not?”
He looked at her woodenly. “It’s too … personal.”
Weezy drank her tea thoughtfully. She had changed from her green interview suit with the black shirt to a pair of worn blue jeans that were so faded they were nearly white, and a yellow T-shirt that said CORNELL.
“Where’d you get that shirt?”
“Old boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Snooky felt more dispirited than ever.
Weezy dabbled her finger in her tea and seemed about to say something, when the phone shrilled outside in the greenhouse. Weezy went into the kitchen and Snooky could hear her talking in a low voice. When she came back, she said cheerfully, “That was Maya.”
“Oh.”
“She figured you’d run over here like the squeaking rat you are, she said.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I told her you wouldn’t talk about it, and she acted all mysterious and strange and said she couldn’t talk about it either, but could I please tell you that she thinks she was wrong. That she thinks you had a point. That she wants you to know she’s sorry.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“What’s this all about, Snooky?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah. It sounds like nothing.” She sat down next to him again and picked up her mug of tea. “You’re all upset and won’t talk about it, and Maya’s nearly in tears, and she’s with child, may I remind you. I’m sure Bernard is happy as a clam right now, too. What’s going on over there with the three of you?”
“I have to go,” said Snooky, standing up abruptly.
“You what?”
“I have to go. Thanks for the tea.”
“Why am I always one step behind in this?” asked Weezy, following him to the door. “Didn’t you just arrive? I thought you wanted a place to stay?”