Chapter 19 Laz #2
“Here. Welcome,” she says, walking over to the fireplace with her gown billowing behind her and grabbing a giant, vintage lighter from the mantle.
She lights her cigarette first and then lights mine, peering intently into my eyes as she does so.
“You remind me of Montgomery Clift,” she says, blowing smoke.
I raise my brows. “Wasn’t he gay?”
She shrugs. “Everyone was at some point. But you both have that brooding intensity, that need to embrace the dark. He always played the moody, sensitive and self-destructive characters because he was the same in real life. I bet you are too.”
I try and shrug it off. “It’s a bit self-indulgent to refer to yourself as brooding. I’m often thinking and lost in my head.”
“And your brows do this,” she says, sliding a finger down over my forehead, pushing my brows over my eyes. I’m hit with a wave of rose perfume. “You do that and you think and you overthink and that’s what makes you broody.” She makes a flamboyant gesture to the couch. “Here, sit down.”
I do so. I have to admit, the nicotine feels good, even if this whole situation is a little weird.
“So what do we have here?” she asks nodding at the papers as she takes a seat in an armchair across from me.
I absently flip through the pages. “They’re for Marina.”
“But what are they?”
I take a long drag of the cigarette, finding courage. “Poems,” I tell her, the smoke falling from my mouth. “They’re poems I wrote about her over the years. I wanted to give them to her.”
“Why?” she asks hoarsely, coughs.
“Because. She…I want her to know how I feel.”
“How do you feel?”
“About her?”
“It’s a simple question, Lazarus.” She draws out my name. “How do you feel about her? Do you love her?” She blows smoke rings out into the air and watches them float to the ceiling.
“Yes.”
“Are you in love with her?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
She cocks a thin brow and ashes into a silver dish. “Well. Isn’t this interesting.”
“Is it?”
“Love is always interesting,” she says. “Love is our biggest adventure.”
I don’t say anything to that. I’m not sure what there is to say. I suppose being in love does feel like being lost in a big fucking scary jungle somewhere but I’m not sure what kind of adventure that is.
“I’ve loved a lot of men, Lazarus. You may not know it, but I was quite the looker in my day.
I had them eating out of the palm of my hand.
I had many, many lovers. I broke many hearts.
And many of them broke my heart. And it was all part of the adventure.
That’s how you have to look at it, you know. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” I exhale a cloud of smoke. “Did you ever have that one big love that obliterated the rest?”
Her face crumbles, just slightly. I immediately feel bad for saying anything.
“Yes,” she says, voice low and raspy. “My first husband. Cooper. He died.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yes. So am I.”
“How did he die?”
“Car accident. Wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.
The impact killed him instantly.” She pauses, takes a drag, her fingers shaking slightly.
“I had many lovers after him, husbands even, but no one compared to Cooper. It was like we shared the same soul but it was much bigger and brighter than that. Like we were…starmates. Made in the stars. Found each other here on earth. It was that kind of love. I never had it again and that’s okay.
It really is, because I was lucky enough to have it to begin with.
My only regret is that it took me too long to realize what he was to me.
I was young and dumb, ignored his advances forever until I finally gave in…
he died a year into our marriage. I wish we had more time together.
But even so, I have zero regrets over loving him. More than that, I’m forever thankful.”
She ashes again and fixes her eyes on me, razor sharp. “Which is why, if and when you realize what you have with Marina, you need to hold on and never let go. Because life is short and love needs to be indulged often.”
She stands up as those words settle over me. “I have something for you.”
The smoke follows her as she leaves the living area and disappears down the hall.
My eyes take in the room in a quick, absent way. Framed movie posters adorn the walls, old framed black and white photos and random knickknacks clutter up every available free space. But my mind is reeling over what she just said.
It pains me to think I’m realizing everything a little too late.
When she comes back in the room she’s carrying a small tin of what looks to be Altoids.
I get to my feet and she gives it to me.
“This is for you. Don’t open it now. Don’t lose it. Don’t show anyone. Think about Marina and what you want and what she means to you. Do all that first. Then have a look.”
“This isn’t a Magic 8 Ball, is it?”
She gives me a look. “Don’t be foolish. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a lie down.”
I stare down at the Altoids and shake the tin but I don’t hear a thing.
She’s staring at me expectantly, brow raised. You know, to leave.
So I do.
“Is Marina really out with her friend?” I ask, pausing at the door.
“Yes, she really is.”
“She’s not home?”
“No.”
“Then can you do me a favor?”
She narrows her eyes at me but there’s a slight smile to her lips. “I thought I just did you one.”
“It will only take a few minutes.”