Portraits

by Cynthia Freeman

  “That’s exactly what I’m being. However, the part of it we’re going to is another half hour, give or take.”

  Michele sighed and sat back, trying to relax in the bumpy jeep. Eliot didn’t seem to want to miss a single chuckhole.

  When Eliot at last brought the jeep to a grinding halt, it was in front of an enormous two-story house that looked like something out of Gone With the Wind…and highly incongruous in the rustic landscape.

  He lifted her down and escorted her to the front door. This couldn’t be real, she thought as she stood in the front hall. It did indeed look like Tara. The furnishings were French and English antiques, the draperies satin, and the upholstering silk, velvet and damask. What was this doing in the wilds outside Reno, Nevada?

  He helped her out of her coat and led her into the giant livingroom. Before she had a chance to catch her breath he was asking, “What do you drink?”

  “Oh…Vodka over ice.”

  “How about a martini instead?”

  “Sure…fine.”

  “It makes it more like a party. Besides, I make a damn good martini. You just relax and I’ll be right back with all the fixings.”

  Michele wanted to laugh. This was the little spread that Fran had mentioned? Eliot was back carrying a silver bucket of ice. With his free hand he took hers and said, “This is not my favorite drinking room.”

  He led her to what she supposed would be considered the den. One wall was taken up with a glass-encased gun collection, and mounted above the stone fireplace were the antlers of a long-deceased antelope. The draperies were wool tartan plaid, the furnishings a caramel-colored leather. In front of the large sofa lay a bear rug—head, claws, and all. Michele’s gaze turned toward Eliot. He was standing behind a barrel-shaped bar, complete with brass rail, making quite a production out of mixing the martinis.

  Glasses in hand, he handed her one, looked at her and said, “Here’s to you, lady. You’ve got to be the prettiest damn thing I ever saw in my whole life. You might as well drink up, ’cause I got a real special announcement to make. You don’t have to give me your answer right this minute, of course. But I made up my mind last night that we’re going to get married.”

  Michele started to laugh. “Well, you were right about not wasting any time. The only thing you didn’t consider was that maybe I’m not about to try that again.”

  “Why? What have you got against marriage?”

  “I’m a two-time loser and I just have a feeling that marriage isn’t one of my greatest talents.”

  “You can’t be totally against it if you tried it twice.”

  “True, but I don’t want to be a three-time loser.”

  “Oh, that’s nonsense. Your problem is you should have met me first.”

  Suddenly it didn’t seem quite so funny, especially when she thought of the unhappiness she’d already had. “Where’s that best damn dinner in the world you promised me?”

  “That’s a pretty good strategy for evasion. But maybe after dinner you’ll change your mind.”

  Eliot sat at the head of the table in the large diningroom, and she to the left of him. Dinner was served by Chang Lee, who’d been with the family for more years than anyone could remember. He served them Chateaubriand bleu, potatoes au gratin and fresh garden peas, all of it prepared to perfection.

  Stirring his coffee, Eliot said, “Well, didn’t I tell you that was the best damn dinner you were ever going to have?”

  “You did and you were absolutely right.”

  “Well, isn’t that enough to make a lady say yes?”

  Michele took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t know if you’re serious or not, I really don’t. But in case you are, the answer has to be no.”

  “Nobody jokes about asking a girl to marry him. You could get a little buckshot in your butt—and that’s painful, let me tell you. Daddies don’t like a man who doesn’t go through with a proposal.”

  “Eliot, I’m beginning to think you really are serious.”

  “Damn right. I told you last night I don’t waste any time when I see something I want. And I really want you, lady.”

  “Maybe you won’t when you find out about me.”

  “I know enough for me.”

  “Eliot, let’s be serious. We just met last night. We don’t even know each other.”

  “By the time you get to know me, you’re going to find out I’m just about what I am now. I don’t want to rush you or anything, but why don’t you just say yes? Then if you change your mind you can always send me a telegram. A deal?”

  She ran her fork around the now empty dessert plate. “I’d like to go back and sit in front of that lovely fire.”

  “Anything for the new lady in my life.”

  When they were back in the den and seated in front of the fire, Michele said, “Eliot, I’ve never met anybody quite like you, and I’d like us to be friends. But before even that happens I should tell you a little about myself…a lot about myself, everything.” And she proceeded to tell him about falling in love with Joshua and the happiness they’d had, her stillbirth and miscarriage, the subsequent breakdown and inability to accept reality, and how she’d turned to Richard, a truly loving and understanding man, but that too had been a failure…“If it hadn’t been for my mother, I doubt I would have survived at all.”

  Eliot sat staring into the fire before he spoke. “During this whole conversation, I’ve heard you mention your mother quite a lot. I hope this won’t hurt your feelings…I think it’s great and all to love your mother and I’m sure no shrink, but what strikes me is that you seem dependent as hell on her to bail you out. Apparently you don’t think you have her strength, so you always go chasing after it when you’re down. Hell, your mother’s not to blame for the lousy things in your life, but maybe she just protected you too much, didn’t toughen you up enough, let you think the world was snug and safe like the old homestead. Frankly, lady, you need a man around the house. Me.”

  Well, he was right about not being able to cope like her mother. Crises just made her go to pieces and then she ran to her mother…She said quietly, “Facing the truth hurts like hell, Eliot, but what do you do with the nature you’re born with? I’m just not very resilient, to put it mildly.”

  “Like I said, the answer to that is a strong man, with a lot of patience.”

  She got up and paced back and forth. This was crazy. He wasn’t at all the kind of man she’d ever thought she would seriously consider. And worldly as she thought she was, the fact that he wasn’t Jewish suddenly became a problem of consideration. True, her mother had never made a fetish out of religion, but there was no doubt how important it was to her and how hard she had tried to imbue her children with the faith that apparently had so often sustained her.

  “This is going to take a little longer than you’re going to like,” Michele said.

  “It’s against my nature, but in this instance I’ll make an exception. Now come over here and sit down.”

  “I’ve told you about me, what about you?”

  “Well, there’s not really a hell of a lot to tell. My ancestry, as they say, is Scotch, Irish and English. My grandfather built this house for his Southern bride, who wanted to bring Atlanta to Nevada…Don’t particularly like parties, although I like my share of excitement and going into Reno to kick up my heels some. Maybe one of the reasons I don’t like parties so much is that my mother’s so crazy about them. She lives in New York, Madrid—and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you met up with her in Istanbul. My father’s not crazy about Istanbul so he lives here. He’s got a house on the ranch. I’ve seen my share of the world, but something hauls me back here, I guess it’s in my blood. I was born and raised in this house and intend to die here with my boots on in the same bed I was born in. And there you have it, all the skeletons in the closet.”

  “Why didn’t you ever marry?”

  “Well just after I got out of Purdue, they started a little thing in Korea, so it didn’t give me much
time to think about matrimony. That just had to be the damnedest place in the world to find a bride. Honey carts, yes; brides, no. Anyway I have a feeling I’ve been waiting around for you. And besides, I don’t think at thirty I should be considered an old bachelor. Sure as hell don’t feel like one.”

  “Well, you don’t look like one either.”

  “And how old are you?”

  “Twenty-three, and Jewish.”

  “Really, I don’t remember asking you that question. But in case you’re interested, they’ve got a dandy little temple right down there in the heart of Reno. And any Saturday matinee you might be interested, I’d be more than happy to drive you there in the jeep.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. She couldn’t even begin to analyze what it was she so liked in him. All she knew was that he kept sneaking through the defenses she’d built up.

  “Okay, enough for the family histories and the past. The hell with it all. Now that we both know all about each other, how about the answer to my first question. Did you make up your mind?”

  “Eliot, let’s get to know each other better—”

  “Okay, I’m going to make a different kind of proposal to you. The only way two people can get to know each other better is to spend a lot of time together. How would you like to move out here with me? See if you like the life?”

  This time Michele was totally taken aback. “Eliot, I couldn’t do that—”

  “Why not?”

  “To begin with, I’m not even sure how I feel about you…And it’s something that I just couldn’t do.”

  “As far as how you feel is concerned, I don’t think you’re going to give yourself much of a chance to find out since this Joshua fellow’s still sleeping in your bed.”

  My God, that sounded like Richard…but she didn’t think it was really true any longer, that she’d overcome…“Eliot, please, let’s go slow on this. Let’s at least get to know each other better…”

  He took her in his arms and kissed her. “That’s exactly what I’d like to do, get to know you better. A whole lot better.” They lay back in front of the fire. Her response to him was far greater than she would have imagined. He aroused feelings in her that no man had ever done, not even Josh…

  Their responses grew more and more eager, and finally he lifted her in his arms and carried her upstairs.

  Kissing her, he unzipped the back of her dress and unfastened the lace bra. What overcame them both was undeniable. All thoughts of the past, present or future were driven from her mind. She only knew that there had never been anyone who filled her with more excitement than Eliot Burns. He loved her as a woman should be loved…

  When they lay quietly together he said, “Now, lady, when do you want to be married? Tomorrow?”

  “Although I’ll be considered a fallen woman, I think I’m going to accept your second proposition first, Eliot. Yes, I’d love to live here with you. And crazy as this may sound, I think maybe I am in love with you…”

  “Happy to hear you say that, but I knew it was just a question of time till you got that first guy out of the way. But I won’t settle for the second proposition for too long. When do you figure you’ll accept the first one?”

  “Give me a little more time, Eliot. June, maybe…I’m going to have to get used to this…and I’m also going to have to prepare my parents for both propositions.”

  “You do that. And incidentally, any time they want to come out to the ranch they’re more than welcome.”

  Michele laughed. “You don’t know my father. If he knew where I was right now he’d probably faint.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want him to do that.”

  “But how am I going to explain all this? Not only to them, but to the Kaufmans?”

  “As far as I’m concerned you don’t owe anybody any explanation. You’re a big girl, Michele, trying to make your own way on your own…I think Fran will understand. And as for your folks, if it would make you feel better don’t give up the apartment. Just have all the mail forwarded here.”

  “That isn’t going to work…the phone calls, but I’ll tell you what I think I’ll do…I’d like to go home this weekend and see my folks.”

  “That’s a hell of a thing to do to me. I already feel like a jilted groom…Seriously, Michele, if that’s what you want, do it. Much as I’ll miss you, you should handle this the way you think is best.”

  “Eliot, I think I do love you. Of all the crazy things that have happened in my life, I think you…us…may be the one sane thing. God, I’ll never get over the way this has happened—”

  “Nor me, lady. I guess it’s something called life, and fate, who cares…?” With that he took her in his arms, and they made love with a passion greater even than before…

  Doris stood looking through the window at the San Francisco airport. When she saw Michele walk down the ramp and then run across the field, she was sure something wonderful had happened. When they found themselves in each other’s arms, each renewed the special feeling she had for the other…and for Michele coming home was always a special event. What was it the man said, “My country right or wrong”? She felt that way about her family, especially her remarkable mother…

  That night at dinner, Henry kept looking at her and thinking how much he had missed her…if only he could turn the clock back and make her a little girl again…

  After Henry had gone to bed, Doris and Michele sat in the den. “I don’t know how I’ve been able to hold myself back from telling you about it till now,” Michele said, “but I’ve met somebody incredible…everything about him and me is incredible to…including that we’re in love…truly in love.” She began with how they’d met and even told her mother that they’d made love. How Eliot had asked her to marry him but she’d felt that after the disasters of her previous marriages she had to be sure this time. Not that she’d exactly rushed into either of her other marriages, but she still felt that she needed more time. “I hope you won’t be too upset or think less of me for it, mama, but I’m going to live on the ranch with Eliot. I know it’s kind of shocking to you, but I also want to be sure that I’m going to be able to adjust to his life. This time it’s got to be right. I just don’t want to fail again. This seems to be the best way to make certain I don’t.”

  Strangely enough, the thought of Michele living with this man didn’t really bother Doris. She didn’t advocate it, of course, but in Michele’s case there seemed to be a wisdom in it. If it were merely an affair she would have been strongly opposed. But under the circumstances, she felt Michele was being very wise, and mature.

  “There’s only one thing, Michele. Your father must never find out about this, so from time to time you’re going to have to come home, just as you always have. I don’t want to deceive him, I never have, but this is one deception I think is necessary—”

  “Mama, you’re really a remarkable lady.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that,” and she said it with a straight face as they embraced. “But, darling, I would like you to spend a weekend here at home with Eliot.” Smiling, she added, “In separate bedrooms. Your father and I will want to meet him, and I think the sooner the better.”

  “No wonder I love you so much…how did I get so lucky?”

  “I’ve no idea…Now the next chore that I have is trying to prepare your father for another member of the Levin family who isn’t Jewish.”

  “You can do anything.”

  “Hardly, but I’ll work on it.” …

  While the plane was making its descent to the Reno airport Eliot ran onto the field and waited for the motorized stairway to be rolled up to the plane, then brushed by the passengers coming down as he went up and swooped Michele into his arms. “Welcome home, lady, forty-eight hours is a hell of a long time to take out of my life.”

  “Next time,” she said when she’d regained her breath, “you’ll go home with me. Besides, I’ll try to make it up to you somehow—”

  “Damned right you will—and tonight’s
the night,” he said as he carried her all the way down the ramp and across the field and put her in the jeep.

  Doris’ talk with Henry wasn’t exactly as jubilant as Eliot’s reunion with Michele. She was sitting with him after dinner, trying to appease.

  “Henry, the important thing is that Michele seems to have found someone she really loves. Yes, I agree with you, too bad he’s not Jewish—but he’s not.”

  Henry said angrily, “What are you, an apostle of mixed marriages?”

  “That’s unkind, Henry, but the truth is the truth, whether you or I like it or not. Robin has turned out to be a wonderful wife for Gary. She worked and helped him through college, and look how devoted she is to the baby. Imagine calling him Mordechai. How Jewish can you get, Henry? Would we have named a baby Mordechai? We went all-American with Gary…Since they’ve been married, I haven’t seen one thing that I could find fault with. In fact, she’s become so Jewish that she puts me to shame. She goes through the whole thing, with the candles and the Shabbes and the recipes I gave her for matzo balls…to tell you the truth, she’s maybe going a little overboard. She even gets upset when people say she doesn’t look Jewish—”

  “Oy vay, you keep talking so I can’t even interrupt. That’s always your best way of winning arguments—”

  “I’m not arguing, Henry, merely trying to suggest—”

  “Your suggestions are longer than the Bible. Thank God my mother didn’t live to see her grandchildren marry goyim…”

  “I think that’s unfair.”

  “What’s unfair? You think she would have been proud and happy?”

  “I think she would have been very proud of Robin, yes. Your mother was a very fair-minded woman, never mind she came from the old country and could barely speak English.”

  “All right, on Friday night I’ll go to temple and thank God because Michele’s marrying a goy.”

  “I think you should go both Friday night and Saturday morning and thank God that Michele is marrying someone she loves, someone who’s going to be good to her, take care of her and protect her—”

  “You sure you didn’t leave anything out? Sounds like a commercial to me.”