by Rick R. Reed
It seemed like the answer of what to do that day, was nothing. Ethan was probably upstairs, a cell phone to one ear, a finger in the other ear, trying to make plans over the pulsing electronic beat of his now vintage electronica CD. And whatever those plans were, Robert knew they would not include him.
And what else was there to do, really? He had hardly any friends, anymore. Since he had been with Ethan, most of the people he had called friends, who were close to his own age, had fallen away, put off by his “beautiful boy” and Ethan’s sarcasm and coldness toward them. If they didn’t look the same as Ethan, Ethan was not interested in them…and he took no pains to conceal it.
So what did he see in me? Robert knew the answer to that question. The answers were in the millions. He hung his head and stared at the floor.
You just feel bad because you’re tired and hungover. Anyone would be depressed. Why don’t you go lie down and read your new book, the latest one from Haruki Murakami? It might be nice to escape. Maybe you’ll even fall asleep…
The burr of the phone’s ring startled Robert out of his reverie, so much that he gave a little cry. It sounded again. A third time. Robert was thinking, just let it ring. It’s not for me, anyway.
When the phone rang a fourth time, and pick-up by the answering machine was imminent, Robert stood and shook his head, ashamed of himself.
“Oh, let’s have a pity party for poor Robert.” He took a couple steps to the phone lying on the counter and picked it up.
“Hello?” Robert expected a young voice, saying something stupid like, “What’s up?” or simply, “Ethan.” But the voice of the doorman downstairs came through. “Mr. Harris? There’s a young lady down here to see you. A Ms.?” Robert could see the handsome young Hispanic man—what was his name? Carlos?—looking toward the girl. He could see her, too, a cute waifish little number with red hair and a button nose. “A Ms. Marantz is here to see you.”
Now, Robert told himself, his intuition could be wrong. He didn’t know a Ms. Marantz but felt certain it was the young lady from last night. And the prospect lifted his spirits way more than it should. He couldn’t keep a big smile from spreading across his face.
“Jess? Is her first name Jess?”
Robert listened as Carlos relayed his question and heard her affirmative response.
“She says, ‘yes.’”
“Then, by all means, send her right up.”
Robert looked through the peephole just to make sure. There she was, the same girl from the night before (or was it the morning?) Today, she looked a little better, her skin glowing reddish from the cold, eyes brighter. He hoped she’d had some rest, some time to reconsider the horrible final solution she had been planning to act on when he came upon her at the lakefront. She was wearing a big, oversized woolen coat with a subtle green and black plaid pattern (the kind, Robert supposed, sold in secondhand stores that referred to themselves as ‘retro’ or ‘vintage’), a green knit hat, and matching scarf. Robert smiled. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up.
He swung the door open. “Hi!” He thought his voice was too cheery and bright, and couldn’t explain what had caused the inexplicable leap of his heart at seeing her again. “Not to sound like a mother hen, but I was worried about you. You know, when you left so suddenly…”
She shrugged and grinned, a bit of sheepishness playing about her features. “Sorry about that. I, um, just needed to get off on my own and think about things. You know? I’m feeling a bit better now.” She peered over Robert’s shoulder, looking into the apartment. “Besides, it seemed like you had enough trouble on your hands without me adding to it.”
Robert rolled his eyes and said in a low voice, “It was nothing. My boyfriend, Ethan, can be a little temperamental.” He stepped back and opened the door wider. “Want to come in?”
Jess stayed rooted to her spot in the hallway. “Oh, I don’t know. I just wanted to stop by and let you know I was okay and to thank you for your kindness. Not everyone would do what you did.”
“I hope that’s not true. Please, come in for a minute.”
She followed him into the brightly lit living room and looked around. The sun had come out, shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows and making the ultra-sleek modern furniture and the white marble of the floor and walls almost glow.
“I didn’t notice how beautiful this place was last night.” Her eyes met his. “I guess I was preoccupied.” She hurried over to the windows and looked outside. “Wow. What an amazing view. You can see all the way down to the Shedd Aquarium and the Field Museum.”
Robert came up behind her and looked out at the cold, bright day. The barren trees in Lincoln Park, the line of cars on Lake Shore Drive, and the now-calm waters of Lake Michigan did look beautiful, he supposed. When had he stopped noticing? For all he appreciated it these days, he could have had a view of an airshaft.
“It is lovely, isn’t it?”
The two stared out for several moments, and then she finally turned away and looked up at him. “I wanted you to know I’m okay. I’m glad you stopped me from making a very big mistake.”
Robert shook his head. “We all have our moments. Lord knows, I have. Come on, why don’t we sit down over here?” Robert led her to the off-white sectional and indicated a corner for her. He perched on the chrome and leather chair opposite. “Oh, I’m sorry! Can I get you some tea or coffee? Maybe some hot cocoa?” He glanced down at his watch. “Good Lord! It’s almost two already. I could make us some lunch. It would be no trouble.” Robert still wasn’t hungry, but he had this need to feed others…he always had.
Jess shook her head. “I’m fine. In fact, I just had breakfast. At the Plains, up on Lunt?”
Robert nodded. “I haven’t been there in years, probably since I was your age. Is it still as laid-back? Still serving tofu and seitan?”
Jess laughed. “I’d be willing to bet it’s exactly the same.” She picked at some lint on her socks. “I got a late start today.”
Now that Jess had given him her gratitude and established she was okay, he wasn’t sure what else there was to say. In spite of their connection the night before, they were still essentially strangers (so why didn’t it feel that way?), separated by years and most likely, a lack of common interests.
He rubbed at his eyes, wondering where his headache had vanished to. He found that, in the girl’s presence, he was breathing easier and felt calmer, more serene.
“You’re sure? Just some tea? It’s no problem.”
“Really. I’m fine.” She stared over his shoulder. “Have you lived here long?”
Robert scratched his head. “I guess it’s something like twenty-five years now.”
“Wow. You must have done awfully well for yourself early on to afford a place like this.” She smiled. “If you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I can’t take much credit. I inherited everything from my lover. He died of AIDS, back when they had just found a name for it and before they really had any treatments.” Robert looked away, out the window, not wanting to meet her eyes. After all this time, the grief over Keith could still prick his heart. He had thought the pain might go away eventually, the void perhaps filled by another man, a new life, moving on as they said in the self-help books. But it never happened. The only thing that Robert could be grateful for was the fact that the pain had diminished to a dull ache in his heart that was tolerable enough that he didn’t feel like flinging himself off the balcony. He had felt like taking that final step when Keith had died and had come close to it a couple of times in the years immediately following his lover’s death.
Jess leaned forward and put her hand over his. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a painful subject.”
Robert blew out a sigh and smiled, bigger than he felt. “It was a long time ago. Some might say I was lucky.” Robert stared at the black vein running through the marble floor and whispered, “And some might say I was cursed. I have a lot to be grateful for, I suppose, but
I sometimes wonder if all the money and things I have held me back.” He stopped himself. “Listen to me! Going on about myself…and about stuff you probably don’t even want to hear. I’ve learned people are very bored by the discontent of millionaires.”
“It’s okay.” Jess pulled her coat closer. “I should probably be on my way. I just wanted to tell you—and it seems like words aren’t enough—how much what you did means to me. And to let you know I’m doing better.” Jess started to stand, but Robert’s next words caused her to sit back down.
“Was it a man? What did he do to you?”
Jess looked bewildered for a moment, then burst out laughing. Robert loved the sound of her laughter…it brought warmth to his face and made him want to laugh, too.
“What’s so funny?”
She reined in her laughter. “Oh nothing. It’s just that…”
“So it wasn’t a problem in the romance department?” Robert leaned closer. “Don’t pay any attention to me. It’s none of my business, really.”
Jess stood, but only to take off her coat and kick off her shoes—Mary Janes. She curled up on the couch, drawing her legs underneath her. “Actually you were right, in a way.” She grinned. “You just had the wrong gender.”
Robert nodded. “So we do have something in common. We go to the same church.”
“Yeah. Except blessings have been in short supply in my house of worship lately.”
“Was she very special to you?”
“She was an idiot! I mean, look at me! Cute, sexy as hell…and with an intellect you wouldn’t believe!” Jess laughed and then fell to chewing her nails. Robert noticed they were bitten to the quick. He could barely hear her next words. “I loved her with all my heart. She was everything to me. Family. Passion. Best friend. When she dumped me, I didn’t know how I could go on. How does the song go?” Jess’s voice came out, song beginning, “First I was afraid?” She went on in a clear soprano, singing that old disco anthem, “I Will Survive.” She sang the entire song, her voice getting louder as she continued. Robert was stunned at the sparkling clarity of her voice and how she managed to turn a kind of catchy, but trite, tune into a plaintive poem of longing and, finally, hope.
When she finished, silence settled on the room like a snowfall and Robert couldn’t speak. Finally, other sounds filtered in, mainly the thudding beat of Crystal Method upstairs. That music didn’t even belong in the same league with the simple a Capella performance this girl had just given.
“That was beautiful, really.”
Jess waved him away, looking embarrassed. “It was nothing.”
“No, you really have a gorgeous voice. Do you sing professionally?”
Jess sighed. “Another area of my life that’s been disappointing so far.”
“Oh come on! How old are you?”
“Twenty-four. In fact, the sad truth is…” Jess took a deep breath. “Today is my birthday.”
“Today? Really?” Robert leaned back into his chair, thinking. “That’s really something.”
“Nah. It’s just another day.”
“No, no, listen. My lover Keith died twenty-four years ago…today.”
Jess averted her eyes and shivered. “That means I was being born when he was dying.”
Robert shook his head. “How odd that we would meet and that we would meet now. Life is certainly full of bizarre coincidences.”
“Very strange.”
“Anyway…you said you were looking to become a singer?”
Jess relaxed even more, putting her head on the back cushion and staring up at the ceiling. “Not a singer, really, although I can do that. I can dance, too. But what I really love is acting. The stage.” She tilted her head back up and met Robert’s gaze. “I’ve done a few things. Storefront theater stuff, mostly, but I’ve gotten some really good reviews. Good enough to get me an audition at Steppenwolf for a bit part and an understudy, last fall.”
“That’s terrific.”
“Not really. I didn’t get the part.”
“Sorry.”
“I get lots of stuff in the small theaters…you know the ones. They’re set up in a vacant store, or a church basement, or a warehouse. Loads of imagination and ambition, zero dollars. You can’t live on good reviews.” Jess hung her head. “That was one of the reasons Ramona left me.”
Robert shook his head. “God. Didn’t she ever hear you sing?”
Jess grinned, but there was no happiness in it. “You know, she never came to much of my stuff. When we were first together, I could always count on her being there on my opening nights, but as time went on, I guess the folding chairs and the pretentious scripts got to her and she stopped coming. Theater was never really all that exciting for her; she was a CPA. I suppose if I had been performing in a road company for some big Broadway musical or at the Goodman or something, she could have made it out for me, but she never saw the little stuff as important. She wanted me to do something that would contribute a little more to the household.”
Robert nodded, not sure what he could say. He knew Keith would have supported him, would have been there every night of every performance, had he been an actor. But then he and Keith had only had a year together before everything started sliding into the abyss. They had passed their time together as all honeymoon, which is what Keith’s family tried to say when they attempted to snatch back his estate from him.
Robert shuddered, remembering the courtrooms, legal maneuvering, and how Keith’s family insinuated their relationship as little more than a fling, painting him as gold digger going after a dying rich man. They didn’t want admitted into evidence his tireless hours nursing Keith and taking care of the repulsive and tiresome duties that came from truly being there for someone dying from AIDS in the early 1980s.
He asked her, “How long were you together?”
“Three years. That’s a serious commitment in gay years.” Jess laughed, then stopped suddenly. “I would have liked thirty more.” She sighed. “But maybe she was right. Maybe I should have been contributing more instead of running around Chicago, acting in storefront theater, no matter how noble the ambitions of the director and company were. Most of the time, I didn’t bring in a dime. And when I did, it was only a few dollars here and there—if a show did well enough to pay for the costs of mounting it, we would sometimes split the door.” Jess grinned again and shook her head. “But when there are only three people in the audience and six in the cast and the ticket cost is fifteen dollars…well, you can do the math.”
Robert felt he would have been too big of a hypocrite if he mouthed the cliché, “Well, money isn’t everything,” so he stayed silent.
“But I just kept thinking the next part would lead to something that actually paid, maybe not much, but at least scale.” She gathered herself up self-importantly. “I am, after all, a member of Actor’s Equity.” She then deflated. “For all the good it did me. I guess there was a lot more wrong, at least for Ramona, in the relationship than just our finances. But she never even gave me a chance to try and fix them. It all happened so fast.” Jess’s voice choked on her last words, and Robert could tell she was bravely trying to hold back tears.
He moved next to her on the couch and put his arm around her. “You know what? It’s going to be fine. You’re gorgeous and bright. You’ll find somebody who really appreciates you…for you. And you’ll forget all about this Ramona of yours.”
Jess looked up at him, eyes wide and moist. “Did you forget all about your lover? What was his name?”
Robert stared out the window and debated whether to be truthful with her. Finally, he said, simply, “No.” He then added, “But maybe we were different. Our time together was golden. We seemed like soul mates.”
Jess leaned into him. “Then how do you think I’ll ever get over Ramona? Maybe she was my soul mate.”
“Because she’s still around. My time with Keith will never be fucked up by seeing him on the street with a new boyfriend. You’ll see, it will get easi
er.” Robert felt as though he was just mouthing platitudes. But he really wanted to help Jess. He questioned again why she stirred something so deep within him—a protectiveness and need to nurture. “Besides, if she were truly your soul mate, I think she’d want what was best for you, not try to change you into something she wanted you to be. How can a soul mate expect you to give up your dreams?”
Jess moved away after they had sat quietly for several minutes. “I should really be going. I’m keeping you from your day.”
“Yes. I have so much to do.” Robert failed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “How did you get here?”
“Bus.”
“Well then, you must allow me to at least drive you home.”
“Oh no! There’s no need to do that.”
“I know there’s no need. It would give me pleasure. And I won’t take no for an answer, so please let’s not go through a tiresome routine. You can’t tell me you would rather take a bus back to your place when you could be sitting in a Lexus with heated leather seats, the only sound Nina Simone playing through a top-of-the-line stereo system.”
Jess laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m too tired to argue, anyway. I barely got any sleep, just a couple hours, really.”
“Let me go get my coat and keys, and we’ll be on our way.”
* * * *
Jess picked up a Nambe bowl and examined it while Robert was gone. She could hear the thumping bass beat of some electronica music soften and then muffled voices from above her.
When she’d mentioned she had not gotten much sleep, she’d almost blurted out that she had dreamt about him, but checked herself. It seemed too intimate, just too weird to mention that to someone she hardly knew.
Someone she hardly knew. Strange. It didn’t feel that way. She felt she knew Robert better than she knew Ramona, or her best friend from college, or anyone with whom she had shared years of acquaintance. And Jess didn’t know why that was. She set the bowl back down on the coffee table and wondered why she was awash in these feelings about this man. Was it just because he rescued her from suicide?
