Summer in the City

by Irene Vartanoff

  As for the other residents, she’d seen them eye her askance when she and Edward entered the building and went up in the elevator. Of course maybe it was envy rather than condemnation. Did anyone seriously expect a widower to mourn for the rest of his life? Although being with Rona could be taken as unseemly haste. His wife had only died a month or so ago. Edward was a person of interest, a public figure. He was famous and moved in elevated social circles. He was well-off financially, too. Not to mention handsome in a deliciously upper-crust style. A catch, for a marriage-minded, social-climbing widow or divorcee. Or even for a young woman itching to be a trophy wife and inherit whatever Edward hadn’t already willed or given to his children.

  Marriage.

  It galled her that he hadn’t mentioned it. She was damned if she was going to. Which was why she would get dressed now and go home. She and Edward had a lot of distance to cover before this relationship would achieve equilibrium.

  Chapter 16

  Susan got a call at work the next morning from Louis, inviting her to meet him and Rona for drinks that afternoon. Happy to avoid her apartment, she consented. She had planned to spend her free Friday afternoon out shopping, anyway.

  She was not seeing Michael again that night. He had called, of course. She had made herself be tough. The weekend was a good time to think, and she had plenty to think about. Although she had agreed to attend a ballet with him on Saturday night. Anything to keep him safely at arms’ length for most of the evening. Susan knew she was fighting herself over that. With all that she had to think about, she wasn’t up to making a decision about Michael yet.

  He’d obviously made up his mind about her. Men were like that. Rick said he had seen her once and known right away that he wanted to marry her.

  Was it tacky of her to think about her husband and about a potential lover in the same context? When Rick had told her to go to New York and find a lover with his blessings, she had not taken him seriously. Why should she? She’d been a faithful wife for twenty-eight years, never even thinking of straying. She’d been too busy being a mom to consider it. Rick was a wonderful man and they had a good life together.

  Kyle’s death and her toxic reaction to it had sorely tested their marriage. Then other things had happened. She winced away from contemplating them. Now she was free for the summer, on the condition that she made a decision about their future.

  ***

  Late that afternoon, Louis and Susan were seated at a glass table on the patio of a charming restaurant in Central Park. It overlooked a pond and was surrounded with greenery. Peaceful, private, and, of course, expensive, but she was getting used to overpriced glasses of orange juice. At least this one was fresh squeezed.

  Rona was the last to arrive, of course.

  “I don’t know why you’re so endlessly busy, girl. Aren’t classes out of session?” Louis said irritably, though he rose to kiss her cheek and give her a hug. Susan did, too.

  “Can it,” Rona said. “I’ve got twenty-five years of angst to wade through. It takes time.”

  “Really?” Susan asked. “Are you examining how you felt, year by year?”

  “Trying to,” Rona said wryly. “Trying not to forget all the pain and anguish despite the rush of him coming back to me.”

  “That’s what you do all day?” Louis was incredulous.

  “That, and have sex with Edward, and placate Jack, and occasionally tend to you two,” Rona rejoined.

  “Placating? I don’t see how screwing Edward is ever going to come across as okay to Jack.”

  “He told me they’re not exclusive,” Susan argued, inwardly wincing at his language.

  “Grow up, girl,” he said. “Men say that when they want to screw more than one woman at a time and not get called to account for it. They don’t want their women to have the same privileges with other men.”

  Wide-eyed, she looked at Rona for confirmation.

  Rona nodded. “It’s true. No matter how many times a man has agreed with me that we will be non-exclusive, once he learns that I’m having it on with other men, he gets upset. Except Louis here.”

  “Jack isn’t taking it like a man. Even though I’ll bet he’s got some little lotus blossom over in Thailand,” he added cynically.

  “Of course,” Rona agreed.

  “I thought he was so nice,” Susan said, “Grandfatherly, too.”

  “Men are scum,” Louis said. “I ought to know.”

  “Louis, are you gay, or not?” she said in exasperation. “Because the more I see you, the gayer you talk.”

  “She’s got a point,” Rona said. “You’re a real bitch today.”

  “Speaking of witches, Bev has got to go,” Susan said.

  “Aha, the gloves are off,” Louis said, looking at her in admiration. “You’re going for it.”

  “What’s he talking about?”

  “Bev called me fat to my face yesterday,” Susan said flatly. “I know she’s feeling bad, and I know I should be patient. She’s got a mean streak. I want her to go home.”

  Rona gave her a look that asked what she expected Rona to do about it. Susan spelled it out. “Please tell her that she has trespassed on your hospitality long enough.”

  “Why don’t you tell her yourself?” Rona asked, perplexed.

  “Because you’re the one who invited her to stay with me, that’s why.”

  “Good point,” said Louis.

  “It’s only been a little while,” Rona remonstrated. “You saw how she was the first night. Hysterical with tears.”

  “I’ve seen her every night since then,” she retorted. “Whereas you gave up after two days.”

  “Another point to Susan,” Louis said.

  Both women glared at him.

  “You’re not helping,” Rona said.

  “Okay, fine, I’m not,” he admitted. “You gave her Valium. You’re not using common sense when it comes to Bev. You still see her as this wonderful student with potential.” Louis continued reasonably, “I like Bev, too, but I’m not blind to her faults the way you are. Why stick Susan with her?”

  Rona appeared much struck by his argument. “You’re right, I haven’t been paying this situation enough attention. I—”

  Jack walked into the restaurant and spotted them. “I took a chance that you might be at one of your favorite places, Rona, and so you are.” He nodded at Louis and Susan.

  “What is it?” Rona looked up at him, obviously not pleased at the interruption.

  “I wanted to see you, dear,” he said, pulling up a fourth chair and sitting down without an invitation. “You’ve been elusive lately.”

  Louis started humming the best-known Asian song of all time, Sukiyaki.

  Jack cast him a dark look. Evidently, there would be no attempt to charm Rona’s longtime buddy.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” Rona said, although she looked annoyed rather than apologetic. “As you can see, I am with friends.”

  “I need to see you. To be with you.”

  Rona replied in an adamant tone of voice. “We said at the start that we would keep this casual and low key. You’re pushing.”

  “Why can’t we all sit here and have a drink?”

  “Because you were not invited to this particular party. We’re talking about things that don’t concern you.”

  Jack took it like a man. Although a surge of red rose in his face, he stood. “Then I apologize for interrupting you all. Another time.” With that, he leaned down, kissed Rona on the cheek, and departed.

  There was silence for a minute as he left. Then Susan said, impressed in spite of herself, “You are one tough cookie, old friend.”

  “She’s the man,” Louis concurred.

  “Okay, back to business,” Rona said briskly. “I’ll come by the apartment later tonight, and have a talk with Bev. Right now, I’ve got to scoot. I’m having dinner with Edward.” With that, she threw money on the table and took off in a different direction from the one Jack had taken.

  Sus
an gazed after her. Rona’s cold rejection of Jack wasn’t about their private conversation after all. It was because of a prior appointment with Edward. She turned to Louis. “Do you think Rona will tell Bev to leave tonight?”

  “No. Anyway, Bev has always been a favorite of Rona’s, and knows how to get around her. Are you sure you can’t put up with Bev a little while longer?”

  “If I knew an end date to this enforced visit, I’d be happier.” She wasn’t hard-hearted, merely running out of patience. “I can’t toss her out on the street,” she conceded.

  “You want to, right?” Louis said mischievously.

  ***

  Of course, Rona never did pop in on them as promised. Susan had hung around the apartment in her bedroom doing various mundane cleaning tasks that didn’t engage her with Bev. Rona never appeared. Dinner with Edward had likely turned into a night of passion with Edward. Susan couldn’t exactly blame them. She was considering a night of passion herself with Michael.

  What Rona and Louis had said about men and non-exclusivity earlier had given her pause. Maybe Rick had made a grand gesture and didn’t mean it. Maybe he did not want his wife to have sex with another man, regardless of what he had told her. How was she to know the truth if he wouldn’t allow her to communicate with him this whole summer?

  What about Michael? If she began an affair with him, would he expect her to leave her husband? Once she actually confirmed that she was married? She had never even considered ending her marriage, except perhaps as a fairness issue for Rick’s sake after the whole mess with being in a mental institution. Now she was supposed to think about a divorce. She didn’t want to. There was much to consider. She didn’t understand men. She never had.

  On Saturday, she came home late from her museum visit, having managed to extend her day out with a long bout of window-shopping. Bev was in a chatty mood. Susan would have skipped coming home to avoid Bev, but she wanted to get as much mileage out of her new chic wardrobe as possible, not merely admire the new clothes on hangers in her closet. Bev followed her to the kitchen, where she was unloading groceries onto the new counter. Bev was quick to understand the meaning of the deli labels.

  “Are you going out again tonight?”

  “Yes,” she said as she deposited the perishables in the refrigerator.

  “What’s the big cultural event?” This was said with a sneer, but Susan replied as if Bev had asked a serious question.

  “Jewels.”

  “You’re going to a jewelry store on a Saturday night?” Bev looked blank, then suddenly avid.

  “No, it’s a group of short ballets with pretty costume changes. Each act is a different jewel.” She had always liked it.

  Bev relapsed into her typical indifference. “Sounds boring.”

  Susan was done with the kitchen. She headed for her bedroom, but Bev trailed behind. Susan began laying out fresh underwear and accessories. She grabbed her robe and headed for a shower, tossing off a few more words in Bev’s direction, but deliberately not encouraging her.

  When she came out of the bathroom, Bev was on the phone with her mother, giving her details of some activity that Megan was supposed to be in. Bev wasn’t screaming, a serious improvement over previous nights, but Bev still wasn’t a welcome roommate.

  Susan dressed quickly. She was wearing flamboyant red with a tiny navy jacket. Not revealing, but chic. Defiantly, she’d let her navy shoes match her bag, as she’d learned as a girl. She gathered up her cell phone and left, thankful that Bev was still using her own and could not make any comments.

  Chapter 17

  Lincoln Center glittered as always, and so did the dancers. Susan could tell that Michael enjoyed the ballet. He wasn’t faking it. She hardly noticed the stage herself, because he discreetly held her hand during the entire performance. Michael’s lean form was set off by a deep blue pinstripe suit whose excellent cut she could see in the reflected glow of the stage. His profile was starkly revealed in that light. His face was all angles and deep shadows, the hard features of a mature man. He had sensuous lips. His dark hair brushed his forehead, enticing her to tangle her fingers in the smooth dark brown strands to push them back. She bit her lip and resisted the temptation.

  He must have sensed her staring at him, because he turned his head and smiled at her. It was an enveloping smile. Michael was looking at her like a tasty meal he was content to wait to savor. She shivered at the thought, fearful and longing in equal measure. Why was she letting herself get so entwined with this man?

  Afterward, they walked slowly down Broadway. The mood was light until he pulled her into a dark doorway and kissed her thoroughly. She struggled to break away, even as she responded.

  “Don’t fight it so hard,” he said huskily, keeping her firmly wrapped in his strong arms. She turned away from his mouth, but her efforts to escape were half-hearted. His lips caressed her cheek with a deliberate softness that excited her and tempted her to turn back and receive his kisses on her lips again. To yield to his persuasion and feel his tongue take possession of her mouth. Still, she fought herself and him.

  “What am I doing?” she practically sobbed. She put her hands against his chest to hold him off. She’d never expected to have this purely sexual response to any man.

  When she didn’t move out of the circle of his arms, he began to gather her closer again. She begged, “Oh, please, don’t.”

  “Why not? We both want this.” He gently nuzzled her neck. Her head went back to accommodate him instinctively, again putting the lie to her spoken words.

  “I can’t,” she said, finally pulling herself together and stepping away from his arms. She was playing with fire. She had to stop, tempting as it was.

  “You want me. What’s stopping you?”

  She moved back into the main sidewalk area, which was lit from the streetlamps. She hugged herself. Time to tell the truth? Could she? Not yet. Not all of it. Maybe she could test the waters, see how he felt.

  “Would you believe a man if he says he wants an open relationship?” she asked.

  “Are we being theoretical? We mathematicians delight in the theoretical.” He drew her around to face him. The light from the streetlamp shone on their faces, illuminating his inquiring look, and her attempt to hide her feelings.

  “Kind of. A friend and her boyfriend have an agreement to be non-exclusive. Now he’s upset that she’s dating someone else.” She suspected that Michael could see the semi-accusing expression on her face.

  “This relates to us how?”

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t believe my husb—my significant other who urged me to find someone new this summer. Maybe I should not get involved with anyone.”

  “Too late,” he said with satisfaction in his voice. “I’ve felt your response. We’ve moved from theory to real world.”

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” she said, sighing. She hadn’t been able to resist. Every time he touched her, it was as if they moved off the normal plane of existence and suddenly she was in a beautiful new place. She still had dreams of romance even though she had been married forever. How contrary was that?

  They continued walking down Broadway, and he captured her hand in his again. She didn’t pull away. He let silence fall between them for almost a block. Finally he said, “To answer your question, some men want freedom for themselves and to get it are willing to talk about equal freedom for their ladies. Most men are possessive. Women are, too,” he shrugged. “It’s human nature.”

  “The night we met, at the Broadway show, you offered to be a no-strings-attached escort. Was that just a line?”

  “I wanted to see you again. It was that simple,” Michael said. “When I did, my world exploded. You knocked me out.” he said ruefully. He raised her hand to his mouth and gently bit her knuckles. “Say the word.”

  She shook her head. “I’m a very conventional woman. I don’t know if I can break out.”

  Michael was too tactful to say that by kissing him repeatedly she alread
y was way past the normal boundaries of marital faithfulness. The duality of her behavior was obvious.

  “Anyway,” she said, striving for a lightness she did not feel, but wanting to end the oblique talk of her marriage, “You do realize that I’m ten years older than you?”

  “I prefer the challenge of an experienced, elusive woman like you,” he said, draping his arm around her so they walked entwined. She enjoyed the physical contact very much, and strove not to show it by melting into him. She was afraid she didn’t altogether pull it off, though.

  As for experienced, that was debatable. How experienced was a woman whose sex life for most of the past thirty years had revolved strictly around her husband? She didn’t say anything. She basked in the companionship that promised so much more if she only dared to reach for it.

  They wandered through Columbus Circle, talking about life and watching all the people coming and going into Central Park. Then they kept on going, through the bright lights of Times Square. At Broadway and 42nd Street, she’d had enough walking and they had resolved nothing.

  “Time for me to go home,” she said reluctantly. She insisted on going alone. He found her a cab, then gave the address and paid the driver. He leaned in through the open window to kiss her.

  “I won’t always let you get away so easily.”

  She merely looked at him, with mixed desire and fear. This amazing man wanted her. What was she going to do about it?

  The traffic light changed and the cab took off, but she looked back at him until she could no longer pick him out in the crowd.