Come Pour the Wine

by Cynthia Freeman

  “I’m sorry, Janet, I don’t know how to make it up to him, or you …”

  “It’s a little late for that, Bill … I mean for us.”

  “I suppose … I’ll see you Saturday.”

  For a moment she was taken off guard. “Saturday?”

  “Yes, at Nicole’s graduation.”

  “That’s right … yes.”

  She sat for a long time, staring at the silent phone, then went to the cabinet and took out all the picture albums. This was the first time she’d been able to do this since she’d come home from the cruise, her head filled with optimistic foolishness about a reconciliation. And then she’d been plunged into a depression even deeper than before the trip. She must be recovering, she thought, if she could bear to go through these albums now. Maybe it was because she no longer hated him. Maybe it was possible … except, miraculously, she no longer gave a damn. At this moment Janet wasn’t sure if she didn’t need some professional help herself.

  It wasn’t easy for them to sit together watching Nicole in the long procession of graduation robes.

  The memories of her childhood were imprinted in Bill’s mind as though it were yesterday. There had never been a child so loved, so enjoyed. But he couldn’t have it both ways. He had savored the years of her childhood, but now she was a woman and he was entitled to his life, wasn’t he? Of course. Then why this feeling of emptiness? He felt the eyes of former friends on him and Janet. The speculations were apparent in their expressions. “How do you suppose they feel being together, Peter?” “I imagine it’s got to be awkward …” “Lelia told me she heard Janet was violent when she found out about his affair …”

  “Lelia’s a gossip, you can’t believe everything she says. I never heard that he fooled around …”

  “Well, I believe Lelia. I understand he has some little secretary …”

  This time the pictures Janet took were different from the ones of past years. Now it was Nicole and Mark Weiss holding each other around the waist. Jason with Kit’s other children, his arm finding its way to Becky’s shoulders. The other two boys, Joel and Jeremy, were goofing around and making faces at the camera. Deborah, who was away at a college work-study program, was the only absent member of the Weiss family.

  Nat said, “Janet, let me take a picture of you, Nicole and Jason.”

  Janet handed him the camera. “Okay, Nat. Then you’ll take one of Kit, all the children and me.”

  Snap. Bill felt excluded, was excluded. He stood back watching, then went to Nicole and took her in his arms. “You were beautiful, princess.”

  Her tears said it all. “Thank you, daddy. I love you.” She turned and called out to her mother, “Mom, I want a picture with dad.”

  How she had managed to give Nicole a party with Bill being there she wasn’t sure, but she wanted her child to have this special day. People needed memories and this was a real milestone in Nicole’s life. Her childhood was gone.

  Bill stood by, feeling … unnecessary as he watched Janet being the gracious hostess she’d always been. But the thing that hurt most was being ignored by Jason. At the graduation, Jason had sat on Janet’s other side and had never even acknowledged his father. Inevitably, though, they met … “How are you, Jay?”

  Jason had looked his father up and down, turned and walked away to join his friends. That was when he’d begun to feel like a leper, and the party had hardly improved things.

  Kit hadn’t been able to resist a shot as she passed him an hors d’oeuvre. “Take this one, boy, it has ground glass in it.”

  Nat was the only civil one. Janet’s parents were understandably cold. Even his sisters were on the edge of hostility. He was a pariah, he couldn’t wait to get out. But he’d stay if it killed him. To leave now would only add more malicious gossip and Janet had taken the brunt of that alone. He’d never thought of that until this moment, he realized. He’d been spared the gossip and the speculative looks, even though he’d caused them.

  When all the guests had finally left, Bill let out a sigh of relief. He wandered through the house, recalling the memories stored away in these walls. He looked at the bed he and Janet had shared in love … a bed that went back to those early days when they’d first met. It had been his bed and then it became theirs …

  He turned from the window when he heard Janet come in.

  Surprised at seeing him there, she stood stock still. They faced each other in silence.

  He wanted so much to hold her, to tell her how sorry he was and how today had affected him, but it was better left unsaid. The chance for that kind of communication was gone. He couldn’t give her the pain of thinking he was reopening their relationship when the truth was there was no chance of a reconciliation, much as he wished things were different. That he were different … He studied her eyes. They were indifferent—and crazy as it seemed, he was terribly hurt, never mind that he was to blame for all this.

  “You looked lovely today—”

  “Thank you.”

  “You did a great job. Nicole’s quite a young woman. In fact, she’s like you, full of sweetness and understanding.”

  “No thanks to me. Besides, I’m none of those things … not any longer. Nicole happens to be a lovely girl who’s had a rough time trying to put our broken pieces together. She loves us both and hoped we would … Well, no matter. It’s Jason I worry about … he was devastated. It still doesn’t make any sense to him, what happened … I tried to explain there was nothing gained by dwelling on it …”

  A long silence. “I wish there was something I could say—”

  “It’s all been said … but at least something good comes out of everything. My children are truly remarkable.”

  He swallowed hard. She said my children. Well, she was right, they were. “I’m seeing a psychiatrist …”

  “I’m glad … for your sake. Now let’s keep pretending the way we’ve done all day. Stay … Nicole’s been more nervous than she’s let on. It would mean a lot to her if you were here for dinner. Now, that’s mature, wouldn’t you say?”

  There was a bite in the words, and why not? Today she must have vacillated between despair, anger and pity. He remembered another day when she’d even set aside her pride and pleaded for him to come back.

  Nicole fixed a plate for Mark and the two went into the living room and sat on the floor.

  “Well, how does it feel to be a grown-up lady?” Kit asked. “I can’t believe it … I used to change your diapers.”

  Nicole smiled. “I’ll bet mom’s got pictures of that too.”

  “Wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” Mrs. Stevens said. “Photography was your mother’s hobby for eighteen years, that and designing her own clothes.”

  “What are you going to do this summer, Nicole?” Dr. Stevens asked.

  “Mark and I are going to bicycle through Europe.”

  Dr. and Mrs. Stevens stopped eating. They had heard of young people living together, but Nicole!

  The Stevenses were not the only ones who were uncomfortable about that announcement. Bill was furious. He got up and poured himself a straight Scotch. He didn’t give a damn about all the free love that went on. Nicole was different. She was his daughter and, by God, he was going to speak to Janet. He might not be a husband, but he was still a father … never mind that Janet said they were hers.

  Waiting until the conversation picked up again, he tightly asked Janet if he could talk to her in the den.

  She led the way and settled herself into his favorite chair as he closed the door. “What do you want to talk about?”

  It took a moment to compose himself. “Are you going to let Nicole go off with Mark? Just like that? I guess Nicole still loves me, but I think subconsciously she’s doing this out of spite, taking out her anger on me. She’s never really forgiven me for what I did.” He drained his glass and poured another. “Would you like one?”

  “No, thanks. That’s plain crazy. You sound like an analyst … Now let me refresh your memory. I wa
s someone’s daughter too and we had quite an affair before marrying. Why do you think it was different then? For me, I mean.”

  “Because I loved you, Janet.”

  She laughed at the irony of it. That didn’t make any more sense than anything else he had done, or said.

  “Nicole and Mark have been going steady since they were children. It’s no secret, and at least they’re more honest than we were. This seems to be a time of more openness. And, not incidentally, Mark happens to love Nicole, every bit as much as you loved me. As a matter of fact they’re thinking about living together.”

  “Then why don’t they get married?”

  “Oh, my God, I can’t believe this whole conversation. I think I will have that drink.”

  As he handed her the glass she said, “Of all the ridiculous things you’ve ever said, that’s it. You have a pretty lousy memory, Bill. We lived together for a year before you were ready to get married.”

  He couldn’t answer that one. “It was just different … that’s all. But at least we were discreet. Nicole tells everyone she’s going away with—”

  “Mark’s like his father was with Kit. He’d marry Nicole tomorrow if she wanted to.”

  “And she doesn’t? She’d rather live with him?”

  “Yes. Even with Mark she’s a little gun-shy. She wants to be absolutely sure. Can you blame her?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You seem to have discussed this with her pretty thoroughly.”

  “I have. In fact, I gave my blessing. I don’t believe in deceptions, secret reservations. It doesn’t make for a lasting marriage, as we know. Going together and living together are two different things. I want Nicole to be completely sure too. When people just sleep together, whether it’s for a night, a week, a month or a year, they still can play games. But when you live together it’s impossible to pretend three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Let them have their fights, let them see each other at their best and at their worst. If they can make a relationship after that, then they’re ready for marriage.”

  Bill sat down heavily. “I can’t believe this is you talking, Janet.”

  “Well, believe it. I’ve changed. Life does that to you, if you let it.”

  “Would you … live with a man?”

  “You mean without marriage?”

  “Yes.”

  “To begin with, I don’t want a man in my life. But if I did, that’s the only way I would do it. Marriage for me is out. I wouldn’t go through that again, not if I were promised the Taj Mahal.”

  Bill was angry, and shocked. “It’s strange how guilty you felt about us.”

  “I just told you … I’m not the same person, and neither are you, if only you’d admit it … If this conversation weren’t so bizarre I think I’d cry. Or laugh. What about your love life? Sex without marriage is fine for you but not for me? The world’s moved on, Bill. Women aren’t accepting the double standard anymore. I’m at least trying not to.”

  “You had a little love affair on the ship, didn’t you? Either that or you’re having one now. That’s what you’re saying …”

  She would not tell him that no man could bed her if he died from wanting, but let him think she was the femme fatale. Laughing, she said, “You sound like an angry, jealous husband, Bill.”

  “You didn’t answer—”

  “I don’t have to. What I do is my business. We’re getting a divorce, remember?”

  “I also remember I love you and you were my wife for nearly twenty years … I’m going to tell you something, Janet … love affairs begin to show on a woman.”

  Incredible … if he could have managed it, she’d have been his mistress for years … “So does marriage.” And with that she went back to join the others.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  JANET SAT LISTLESSLY ON the edge of the bed. The house seemed too silent with Nicole away and Jason taking a summer course. She’d never felt so alone … Yes she had, come to think of it … it was when she’d first come to New York. And her thoughts moved back to Orchard Street and a particular Sunday afternoon, and to Fayge … Once again she felt the desperation that began that day, but at least then she had something to occupy herself with … her weekdays were filled with modeling. But now? How was she going to fill her days? There was no one to cook for … no one to care for … no incentives, no demands, no life … Kit could hardly become the whole of her existence; she had a life of her own. And although they’d shared so much together, Janet couldn’t hang onto her just to fill up her own void. Her problem wasn’t Kit’s …

  She got up, went to her closet to take out a dress … and an errant thought struck her. Well, not so errant, really. Or quite all that sudden. Once or twice it had occurred to her before, but she’d pushed it aside. Well, maybe now was the time …

  She slid back the wide closet doors and looked at her wardrobe. She’d not bought a thing without Bill’s approval. Mostly, in fact, she’d dressed for him. Quickly she took armloads and threw them onto the bed. There were practically enough things right here to open a shop … Yes, by damn, that’s what she was going to do …

  She picked up the phone, dialed Kit’s number. “Hi … are you busy today?”

  Kit looked at the calendar. “Nothing special … feel like lunch?”

  “No. I’d like you to come over if you can.”

  “Be there in about forty minutes, hon.” No questions asked.

  Kit walked in to find Janet’s bed strewn with clothes and a rare smile on her face. “What are you doing? Going into competition with the Salvation Army?”

  “In a way.”

  “Really? Let me congratulate you. This is the first time I’ve seen you smile without cracking the plaster cast. What’s up?”

  “I’m excited.”

  “Best news I’ve heard since the fall of Berlin. What brought all this about?”

  “I feel alive for the first time since Bill walked out. Not like something dead that was flushed down the drain … I’m going to open a next-to-new shop in New York.”

  Kit looked at the bed. “I take it you’re going to stock the joint with your cast-offs.”

  “Right. I want to make a clean start and the first thing is to get rid of the reminders. There’s not a thing in that closet Bill didn’t approve of. If he didn’t like it, I didn’t buy it, make it or wear it. Now, do you want to go into the city with me or not? I’m about to become an entrepreneur.”

  “You got yourself a deal.”

  A week later, with the help of an agent, Janet found a small store on 49th Street off Third Avenue. The building was an old four-story apartment house and the first apartment above the street was being leased as a boutique. She adored the Victorian horseshoe-shaped marble fireplace. The windows would have to be remodeled and enlarged for display, but that was no obstacle.

  This was it. She could see it now. There’d be something for everyone. Feather boas, handmade jewelry that she’d sell on consignment for some of the independent young jewelry makers, beaded bags with fringe, silk camisoles dating back to the turn of the century … It was going to be kicky and kooky. Her dresses weren’t exactly in that category, but she could easily restyle some of them and it wouldn’t hurt to leave the others as they were for conservative customers. She’d have to find a source for more almost-new clothes, and maybe she’d even hire a dressmaker to make up her designs. Thank God she knew about fashion. Those early years had not been wasted. She also had imagination. The dresses she’d designed over the years were proof enough of that. God, the things that could be done. It would be great …

  She brought Kit to take a look at the empty store. “Do you like the idea?” she asked when she finished outlining her plans.

  “Love it. How are you going to decorate?”

  “Above the mantle a tall Victorian mirror with maybe cupids. I thought purple carpeting, white wicker furniture and lots of Boston ferns. Different colored old silk parasols hanging upside down on the ceiling and electrified for
light fixtures. How does that strike you?”

  “Great!”

  “The dressing rooms could be like gazebos … I thought a three-paneled mirror inside would be more unique than one solid—”

  “Yeah, that’s really jazzy. I admire your enthusiasm, but I’m hungry.”

  “Oh, gosh, Kit, I got so carried away I forgot about eating.”

  “Let’s go.”

  That night Janet at last slept peacefully. She had found something … fulfilling … in her life, and for the first time since parting from Bill she was happy. Well, if not happy, at least she’d restored a measure of self-respect … she’d settle for that. For now.

  Added to her pleasure she found a young woman in her twenties by the name of Renée Bouche (who later confided to Janet she was Reva Berkowitz).

  Renée came to her from an employment agency, and her credentials were the best. She could use a needle the way a sculptor molds a piece of clay. There was nothing Renée couldn’t alter. Her dream was to have been a designer, but with nine children in the family there’d never been quite enough money. So Renée’s great dream of becoming another Coco Chanel had been lost in the alteration department of Gimbel’s.

  She adored Janet from the moment they met, and the feeling was mutual.

  Janet and Renée worked doubletime on decorating the shop, readying their merchandise and establishing contacts for future sources of clothing and jewelry. By the middle of July the shop was open and off to a modest but promising start.

  Life was beginning to take on a semblance of sanity for Janet. She loved the drive to and from the city, especially now that she’d traded in her old Ford station wagon for a brand-new sports model Mercedes-Benz, copper brown with beige leather interior and a sliding sun roof. It sort of went with the new shop. Both signs of Janet’s coming out, as it were. Well, better late than …

  Tired but content, she drove into the driveway and parked the car. There was always that one bad moment before going inside, but she pushed away the thought and walked up the stone path.

  When she opened the door her new housekeeper Annabelle said, “Evening, Mrs. McNeil. It’s so hot I thought a nice seafood salad would tempt you.”