Chapter 8
Swansy was in an uproar when I reached her house early Wednesday morning.
She was watching the talk show that she watched every morning at that time, and the topic was rape.
“Have you ever heard anythin’ so stupid?
” she warbled, then snorted. “Men bein’ raped by women—it can’t happen unless the man wants it, and then it ain’t no rape.
But those men yammer on, tryin’ to drum up sympathy for the pain they’ve suffered.
I don’t buy it. Don’t buy it for a minute. ”
I studied the three men alternately captured on the television screen. “They seem sincere enough,” I said. “Apparently they buy their story, even if you don’t.”
“It’s hogwash. Men are bigger ’n stronger ’n we are. They have the advantage every time, so we have to be on our toes up here—” she tapped her head “—if we don’t want ’em to run roughshod over us.”
I looked at Swansy, so petite, yet so strong, and though I wasn’t making any judgments about the possibility of a man being raped, I couldn’t argue the merit of a woman’s being on her toes.
I’d gone flat-footed through the past four days, taking everything Peter had given. Now I needed to get back on the ball.
Rebecca nudged her cold nose under my hand. I was stroking her muzzle when Swansy said, “Well?”
“Well, what?” I wasn’t really in the frame of mind to discuss men who’d been raped.
She came through for me as she had so many times before. Pressing the remote control, she turned off the TV. “Sit down and tell me, girl. Tell me everything.”
I sat. Rebecca put her head on my thigh. “Where should I begin?”
Swansy’s smile was sweet and knowing. “How was the flight?”
“Smooth.”
“The hotel?”
“Lovely.”
“The show?”
“Wonderful.”
“Did they love you?”
I shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. Though she couldn’t see it, I like to think it came out in my voice. “I guess so. We sold lots.”
“And your man?”
“My man?”
She didn’t speak, just sat there directing that sweet, expectant smile my way.
“Peter,” I said. I dragged in a deep breath, held it for a minute, then let it slip back out through my teeth. “Peter was incredible.”
Swansy’s smile didn’t widen. She wasn’t about to let me know whether my comment pleased her or not. For a blind person, she played poker like a pro.
And like a sap, I fell for her bluff and began to talk. But then, that was what I’d come for. Swansy was my sounding board. My thoughts desperately needed an airing.
“He came to the reception on Friday night, and except for a meeting he had with a client on Sunday morning and Monday night when I went home, we were together every minute. He is a … remarkable man.”
I wasn’t sure how else to describe him. An extraordinary lover? A great lay? A sexual wizard? I didn’t really want to tell Swansy that Peter and I had spent the better part of our time together in bed, because I was afraid she’d get the wrong idea.
Then again, it wasn’t the wrong idea. It was exactly what we’d done. But what Peter had taught me about lust would burn Swansy’s ears.
Then again, maybe not.
But where a man and a woman were concerned, some things were sacred.
So I focused on what we’d done out of bed.
“We spent a lot of time at the gallery. I felt I owed it to Moni, and to Bill and Celia. And when Peter had to work, I sat in a corner of his office pretending to be a law student observing. But otherwise we were free. He took me to his favorite French restaurant. We ferried out to the Statue of Liberty. We went to the Museum of Modern Art. We saw a movie at midnight, then ate huge corned beef sandwiches at an all-night deli. And we walked up and down the avenues, just talking.”
“Sounds nice,” Swansy said.
“It was. I’ve always hated New York, but I think that’s because I’ve let it use me, rather than the other way around. Peter and I used it for the things it had to offer. But there are times, like when we were talking over coffee, when we could have been anywhere. The city took a back seat then.”
Swansy nodded.
I sank deeper into the chair, my thoughts distant as I absently scratched Rebecca’s head. “We talked about everything. That surprised me.”
“How come?”
“Because we’re so different. We come at life from very different angles.
I originally came from money. He didn’t.
He’s living with it now. I’m not. We have contrasting views on some things, but still we were able to talk.
I can see why he’s a success as a lawyer.
He’s bright and quick and so logical that it’s sometimes hard to disagree with him. ”
“But you did.”
“Sure, I did. He liked that. It makes me wonder about the other women he’s known. I can’t believe he’s been attracted to ‘yes’ ladies all these years.”
“He never married any of ’em. Maybe that’s why. Maybe what he had with ’em was sex.”
That’s what he has with me, I almost said, but Peter swore it wasn’t so.
More than once over the three days we spent together, he told me he loved me, and never did he do it in the throes of passion.
He pointed that out quite bluntly. It was early on Tuesday afternoon, when I was getting my things together to check out of the hotel.
Peter took me standing up, with my back to the fire escape instructions tacked on the door.
We were both fully clothed—and as hot as ever.
“I’ll miss you,” he murmured when it was over.
“Don’t kid me, bud,” I teased. “It’s my body you’ll miss. It’s been a slave to yours since Friday night.”
He didn’t crack a smile. “No. I’ll miss you. All of you. That’s what I love.” He planted a wet kiss on the pulse point on my neck. “If I only loved your body, I’d tell your body I loved it, but do I? Have I ever said those words when we were making love?”
I hadn’t thought about it before, but when I did, I had to admit that he hadn’t. I shook my head.
“That’s because my love for you isn’t rooted in my balls. It’s here—” he touched his heart “—and here—” he touched his head. “If love is worth beans, it’s rational. It involves things like respect and trust. Very rational.”
I’d felt threatened by the words when he’d said them, and I still did. Maybe it had something to do with what Swansy had said about a woman having to use her brains to fight a man’s brawn. What was a woman to do when a man used both brains and brawn?
“Well,” I sighed, returning to Swansy and the present, “whatever it was with his other woman, it isn’t now. He’s not seeing anyone special.”
“’Cept you.” Her voice held a very subtle note of inquiry.
I was quiet for a time before acknowledging it. “Except me. He’s flying up this weekend.”
After a pregnant pause, she said, “You don’t sound real happy about that.”
“I’m not sure if I am.”
With the nudge of her foot, she began to rock back and forth, but she didn’t say a word.
So I went ahead and voiced the worries that had been nagging at me since I’d left New York the day before.
“I was happy at the time. We’d had such a fun time together, Peter and I, that I didn’t want to leave him.
When he suggested he come up this weekend, I jumped at the idea.
” I looked at my hands, straightened my fingers, stacked one set on the other.
“Then I headed back here, and the closer I got, the more confused I felt.” I looked at Swansy.
“I don’t know what to make of our relationship. I don’t know what I want it to be.”
“What does Peter want?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything—well, maybe that’s not true. Or I don’t know if it’s true. We haven’t talked about the future. I don’t know what he wants down the road, but he says he loves me. He says it’s the real thing, and that it’s going to grow. He says that I’m everything he’s dreamed about for years.”
Swansy sighed voluminously. “Ah. So pretty. He’d sure make a better script writer than the loony who writes—”
“I’m serious, Swansy!” I cried. “Peter can be straight-forward and tough and demanding, but he’s a romantic. He says beautiful things to me, and they’re all from the heart. How can I deal with that?”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course not. I loved Adam. I won’t love another man. And besides, I haven’t known Peter long enough. He hasn’t known me long enough. Two extended weekends—that’s all we’ve had. How can he say he loves me after just that?”
Swansy rocked, and smiled.
“How can he, Swansy? Isn’t this whole thing a little fanciful?”
“If it’s fanciful, that’s because you need it to be. He’d be good for you, Jillie.”
“Good? He’d be awful! Look at him. He’s a hot-shot lawyer. He buzzes in and out of courtrooms all over the Northeast, and when he’s not traveling on business, he’s doing bizarre things like exploring uninhabited islands in the South Seas.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“Maybe to you, but I like my life here. I like the quiet and the routine. I like the sameness of it.”
“You feel comfortable here.”
“Yes!”
“Secure.”
“Yes!”
“You feel completely satisfied, a total woman.”
I took a breath and opened my mouth, then shut it without saying a thing. I should have known Swansy would cut right to the heart of the matter.
“What am I going to do?” I wailed softly.
“What do you want to do?”
“Turn back the clock and make things the way they were before.”
“Would you feel like a total woman then?”
“I was happy then.”
“You didn’t know what you were missing.”
“I knew what I was missing. I just didn’t want it.”
But she was shaking her head. “You didn’t know. You hadn’t met him then. Sorry, girl. Even if you could turn back the clock, you’re a different woman now. Nothin’s ever goin’ to be the same.”
I stared at her hard, hoping she could feel it. “What kind of friend are you? I came here for comfort.”
Back and forth she rocked. “You came here for me to tell you that what you did with that man in New York was all right, and I’m sayin’ it was.”
“That’s just it. It was all right in New York. I was a different person there. But now he’s coming here, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it.”