Chapter Thirteen

Suddenly everyone was shouting that it was midnight, and Richard’s face came close to Laura’s. Richard and Laura kissed for the first time and the kiss was sweet. They parted. Laura was dizzy. She put her hand on her heart where it hurt. She didn’t move. “Don’t you feel well?” asked Richard.

“I drank too much,” she lied. She leaned against him. Then she spotted Elise coming toward them and she straightened herself.

Elise gave Richard a quick peck on the lips, looked Laura over and smiled coolly. “Happy New Year, Richard,” Elise said. “I didn’t know you’d brought your friend.”

“I came with Dante,” Laura informed her.

“Oh, good. Where is he?” She glanced around.

“He left,” said Laura. Elise looked disappointed.

“I’m going to take Laura home,” Richard announced. “She isn’t feeling very well.”

“Too bad,” clucked Elise. “How is she feeling?” She stared at Laura.

“I feel sort of like throwing up,” Laura told her with clinical candor. “But I believe I can wait.”

Elise shook her head in disbelief. “Laura, you’re such a loser,” she replied with equal honesty. She slinked away.

“That was an interesting effect,” admired Richard. “I never saw her act like that before—simply insulting.”

“I know,” grinned Laura. “She was that way last time too. And on both occasions it was my fault.”

Richard went for her coat, but couldn’t find it, so Laura had to come into the bedroom and fetch it herself. She also found her duffel bag. They left, and Richard hailed a taxi, finally.

He took her, for some reason, to his apartment, and told her to go lie down in the bedroom. “You can spend the night,” he continued straightforwardly. “I’ll look after you.” He paused realizing that he might have blundered and then added, “I don’t mind the couch.”

“I’ll go lie down for a few minutes,” she agreed. “Then I ought to go home.”

She went into his bedroom, took off her coat and put down her bag. A grouping of photographs immediately drew her to his bureau. Three children. His daughter and two other separate pictures—one boy and another girl. Three! Her mind boggled.

She had almost fooled herself into accepting the one. But three? No, never. “Richard, who are they?” she asked, her heart pounding as Richard entered the room. He came up beside her and gazed at the images.

“My children,” he answered.

“Three?” She was calm.

“Yes.” He paused. “I wanted to.”

He wanted to! That was a very good answer.

“I started with one, but that didn’t seem enough. So now I have three. These three live in Appalachia, but that seemed so far away that now I’m also a Big Brother to two brothers here in the City—sorry, but I don’t have their pics yet. It’s been fantastic. I can’t tell you what fun getting together with them has turned out to be. These are great kids—you’ll have to meet the boys.” He smiled. “The little ones are from Save the Children.”

Understanding his meaning almost made Laura collapse with relief.

He picked up one of the children’s pictures. “I want to go and meet these three sometime, too. I’d like to drive down in the spring, actually. Maybe you’d like to drive down there with me?

“Me?” asked Laura, her face burning. Her mind was working a mile a minute.

“I know it would mean something to you, Laura. I know you understand.”

“You know?” she choked.

“The way you were talking last weekend, about the children. I know you share my feelings about them.” He was vivid with enthusiasm. “These kids are awfully important to me. They’re the one thing I can feel good about in my life.”

“Oh, Richard,” she began, but didn’t know how to finish her sentence.

“Never mind. Lie down. Are you feeling any better? Wait. I’ll pull down the covers. You’ll be warmer underneath. What can I get you?” He helped her take off her boots.

She lay down. “I’ll leave in a little while,” she told him.

“I’ll give you a pair of my pajamas,” he offered. He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. “Laura, I told you I’d help you, didn’t I? Did you think I didn’t mean it?”

What in the world? “I’ve always taken care of myself,” she responded warily.

“Are you going to the doctor?” he asked.

“Doctor?” she exclaimed in disgust. “I’m more than averagely healthy. Just what are you thinking, anyway?”

“Laura,” he said seriously, still holding her hand. “Don’t you want to marry me?”

She thought a minute. Did she want to marry him? He hadn’t said, ‘Laura, I love, I want to marry you.’ The way he had said it sounded suspiciously different from that. Was this still about the money, or what? “Why?” she asked pointblank.

“Because I care about you, Laura, and I want to look after you.” Sweet, but not overly stirring.

“Don’t you have enough children to take care of?” She inclined her head in the direction of the photographs.

“I think we should be able to take care of one more,” he answered, his voice low, still holding her hand.

She snatched her hand back. “I’m a grown-up woman, you know. We’ve learned to take care of ourselves fairly well in the last hundred years or so.” She sat up and retrieved her bag.

Richard was in earnest. “I know that, Laura. I only thought I might make life easier for you for a while. I am your friend.”

She stared at him. His sanity was coming into question here; he might even be dangerous. She’d better go. She took her brush out of her bag and began brushing her hair. She glanced at him. He still looked good to her.

He plucked the sketch that Laura had made of Dante out of her bag. “May I see it?” She nodded. He studied the drawing and she looked too. It was Dante in flight, a full-body portrait of him at his dance concert. The image caught every beautiful thing Laura saw in him, drawn from memory.

Richard spoke bitterly. “He doesn’t deserve you.” He set the portrait aside.

“Don’t you think the drawing’s good?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, still apparently unhappy. “It’s very good.” He shifted restlessly. “Maybe you think you have a chance to marry him, then.”

She raised her voice. “I don’t understand your obsession with marriage. I don’t have to count on marrying anyone. I can be my own person.” She stood.

Now she was angry with him. He still wanted his grandfather’s money that much. And he wanted to make some sort of slave of her as well. This wasn’t the Richard she had fallen in love with. Again, she had fallen in love with a lie.

“No, I’m sorry, Laura. I don’t mean to say anything to offend you. I thought though that marriage might be easier for you. And for your baby.” He glanced at her with soft eyes, then looked away.

Her baby!!! Oh, yes, her baby! Meaning her nervous stomach. He thought Dante had given her a nervous stomach that would result in another living human soul. He thought very highly of her, didn’t he? Just as she had of him. So they were even. He thought she had lied and lied and lied. That she was in love with Dante, had spent one night with him at least, had almost fallen on her knees asking Dante to stay with her, and had offered him money to do so.

And now Richard wanted to marry her, to add her and her baby to his growing collection of waifs. To give him something to justify his existence, to justify his failure to paint and to love. She felt frustrated; she had a headache; she was tired. Did she love Richard, or didn’t she? And should she, after all?

“All right, Richard, I’ll marry you,” she agreed, absolutely calm. “But for Grandfather Turner, not for the baby. So don’t think you’re doing me any favors.” Her statement to him must be her ghastly sense of humor, she thought. In the morning she would tell him her acceptance of his proposal was all a stupid joke.

Richard moved closer to her on the bed, then put his arm around her very gently. “Don’t worry, Laura, I’m not going to make you feel bad.”

She was still angry, but his touch melted her so that she leaned her head onto his chest. Marrying him and then not have the baby would be an even better joke. Then he might have to become the husband of a woman who genuinely loved him. She changed her mind—Richard was more mixed up than she was about the man/woman thing. He was as frightened as she was, but he didn’t realize it.

“Don’t you want to kiss me again, Richard?” Her face was flushed as she turned toward him.

He kissed her, at first with some degree of hesitation, but then with total feeling. Laura gave herself to him in that kiss. She asked for a fresh start, for the pure loving she wanted and needed, with the confusion set aside. And he responded to the pure loving in her and returned it pure and strong, as asked.

They came apart, reluctantly. He kept his arm around her. “Laura, you’re so beautiful. You’re such a beautiful woman. I always wanted to tell you that. And so many things.”

She knew. Had she always known? He loved her. He loved her, but he was afraid to say it. So he made up this story why he should have her, but not totally have her. The way he allowed himself to only half-have Elise. Now Laura was to enact the part Elise had played, giving him the fraction of herself he thought he might deserve. But their relationship wouldn’t be that way. It was going to be much, much better than that.

He came apart from her, for fear of his own desire, she presumed. And she was jumpy and shy since he was. “Do you want something cold to drink? Something hot to drink? I’ll get us something,” he told her.

She drank a club soda and got into his pajamas, feeling like Doris Day in Rock Hudson’s apartment. She climbed into her “fiancé’s” bed. “Richard,” she called. He came into her. “I don’t think I can sleep now. Will you sit beside me?” He sat beside her. “Why don’t you lie down for a minute?” They were engaged, weren’t they? Before his parents, neighbors, and friends. And now with her permission as well.

“No, Laura, I don’t think it’s best.” He stroked her hair.

“Why isn’t it best?” She wanted him close. Closer.

“I guess because my feelings are involved. I tried to deny that to myself, but it turns out to be true. Everything between us has turned upside down for me and I don’t know what to make of it. So let’s leave it alone for a while and we’ll both go to sleep.” He got up, touched her face, and left her.

She smiled into the darkness. She liked his speech. He was coming up honest. Marrying the man after all seemed a good idea. She yawned. Well, maybe she would be able to get some sleep.

And she slept.

Either the doorbell in her eyes or hearing the sunshine that woke her up. Or possibly the other way around. She sat up in bed and didn’t see her china doll or any of her familiar things. In fact, she was in a man’s apartment. But she was in his bed all alone. She got up and stumbled into the other room.

“What is it?” she called out, slightly dazed. Then she realized that Richard was at the door and she saw that their early morning visitor was Richard’s girlfriend, Elise. “Oh, hello,” Laura said.

Richard let Elise in then. “How nice to see you again,” replied Elise. “Did you vomit?”

Richard interrupted. “Laura and I are getting married, Elise.” Just like that.

Elise laughed. “Richard, how typical.” She turned to Laura. “Richard thinks that if he spends the night with a woman, he has to ask her to marry him. How clever of you to say yes, dear. I said no, of course.” She took off her coat and sat on the sofa.

“Laura spent the night because she wasn’t feeling well,” Richard explained coldly.

“That’s not any of my business, to be sure,” responded the elegant model. “But you might offer me a cup of tea.”

“I’ll make it,” declared Laura, fervently desiring to leave the room.

“Tea only, dear, nothing extra,” Elise purred.

Laura went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. She looked out the window, not at the park, but at the other buildings nearby. The day was sunny for once. Monday. Tomorrow would be back to work. How clever of her to marry Richard, indeed. Mr. Turner would support them and their days would be all sunshine and serenity.

She brought Elise her tea and went to shower and change back into her own outfit. Laura would tell Richard now that the wedding was off. She wouldn’t be depressed for more than a year or so afterward.

When Laura came out, Elise was gone, but the scent of her expensive perfume lingered. Richard still wore his pajamas and a robe. He was a very sexy man, but also like a little boy. She thought of the pictures of him as a shy child. She went and put her arms around him from behind. He put his arm over hers. They stood there, her face pressed into his back.

She let him go. “I want to go home and be by myself for a while,” she said. “Will you call me later? If you want to see me, that is. I mean, only if you want to.” Her voice dropped.

“I’ll call you,” he promised. “I’m taking the kids to the Museum of Natural Science today. You can join us if you’d like.”

“Next time, not today. But call if you can.” She went into the bedroom and retrieved her coat and her bag. Richard handed her the sketch of Dante.

“Are you seeing Dante today?” he asked. “Are you going to tell him we’re getting married? Maybe he’ll ask you himself.”

“Dante isn’t important,” Laura answered. Then she felt that wasn’t true, only that she thought it ought to be the case.

“I guess you’ll want to go on seeing him.” His eyes asked her not to.

“Richard, Dante and I aren’t as close as you think. I told you that before, but you didn’t believe me. Dante and I are only friends. I’ve never lied to you, Richard. I’ve told you too little or too much, but I’ve never lied.” They looked at one another. They had so much suspicion and love between them that she couldn’t know anything at all for sure. She left.

The phone was ringing in her apartment, forcing her to speed up the stairs to catch it. The caller was Dante, bellowing, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve tried your cell all night and all morning, Cinderella. Did you go home with some pumpkin?”

“I thought you were busy yourself,” she countered in defense.

“What do you take me for? A gigolo? Did you go home with that undertaker, Richard? I’ll go over and sock him in the eye. That would be fun. Yes, I’m jealous. Did you enjoy your tryst?” He waited for an answer.

“It was nothing. He slept on the couch.” Dante made her laugh. He appealed to her child nature. Richard appealed to the adult woman she was trying to become.

“I don’t know if that means he’s a gentleman or an idiot. Look, I’m around the corner. Can I come up?” He sounded meek for once.

“Yes, come up. Is anything wrong?” She was immediately concerned.

“I think so. Hold on. I’ll be there.” Dante hung up.

Laura took her coat off slowly. Dante had been calling since last night. Where was her cell? Something had happened at that woman’s house—something unpleasant. If only she might have protected him from whatever it was. That was why she loved him, partly; he needed so much care.

And why Richard loved her, if he did. Because he saw her too as someone vulnerable, who required protection. And she did need someone to look after her—and Dante did. But at the same time, they both “got by,” regardless.

This was disturbing. Because no matter what she thought she wanted, she still felt that special pull of Dante’s. And the attraction wasn’t simply a call to her maternal nature. She wanted to go on seeing Dante, as Richard had suggested she might. But that wouldn’t be right. Because then she would be like all the others—like Elise and like Melissa. No, no, no.