Gilded Age (28 page)

She went on. “Of course I throw a little of my own stuff in there too.” Of course she did. If anyone could convince people that her old clothes were treasures that they should buy out of a trunk in a parking lot, it was Ellie.

“How’ve you been?” she asked.

Our conversation at Cinco’s came back to me then. I didn’t know what to say to her.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” she said after a silence.

“Oh?”

“I felt bad about Cinco’s party,” she put out tentatively.

If she had done anything else, something that didn’t involve Jim, if she’d kissed someone else’s husband, I would have let her off the hook. That’s how much I loved her, how used I was to overlooking her faults. But I was beginning to think that any friendship I thought I had with her was merely my own hero worship combined with her fear of loneliness. I would have made justifications and excuses, would have tried to make her feel better, but this time she’d hurt me.

“Ellie, I don’t even know what to say to you.”

The color drained out of her face. “Why?”

“You know why,” I said.

We stared at each other.

She laughed, a quick fake sound. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do. That night at Jim’s club.”

“This again—the squash player?”

I was mad now. “Not the squash player.”

Her mouth fell open in a little round O and her cheeks flushed as if I’d slapped her.

I didn’t say anything. She would be the next to speak, not me.

“That was nothing,” she said, and seeing the look on my face, she continued. I was relieved she was going to admit it. “Just silliness. We were drunk. I’ve known Jim as long as you have, and he’s always been in love with you. It was an idiotic thing, really.”

I have to admit that her explanation did make me feel better, perhaps only because I so badly wanted to believe it. She was nonchalant about it. And from the way she was talking, she didn’t seem to have any plans on my husband. But I noted that she’d not apologized.

She continued. “I guess it would be upsetting if I were in your shoes. But I think I’ve just become desensitized to stuff like this after hanging around the Vonborkes.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, the rumors are true.” I could see what she was trying to do now, trying to turn this toward a cozy little gossip session. “We were all at their house the other night, and they wanted to play spin the bottle. Like from grade school. Except it must be much more exciting when your spouse is watching you kiss someone. I mean, I wouldn’t know about that.”

I made a face.

“I know. But you can see why the thing with Jim really meant nothing. He’s such a good guy, isn’t he?”

Looking at her then I realized that Ellie left chaos in her wake almost anywhere she went. I wondered if it was reflexive for her, unconscious, or if she meant to do it, if it satisfied something inside her.

“He’s too good,” I said.

“My experience?” she said. “There aren’t a lot of them.”

“So you’ll take mine.”

“There’s no taking. Don’t you know your husband at all?”

I was about to say “I know you” but thought better of it.

Ellie stepped forward as if to hug me, but I busied myself with my shopping bag and she didn’t.

“I feel bad about things,” she said. “I really do.”

“Good to see you,” I said from rote, cutting her off. It had been anything but good to see her.

“Really good to see you,” she said listlessly, realizing I was blocking her out. She gave the back of my arm a significant squeeze.

On my way back to the car I stopped in a boutique and bought a hideously expensive set of clothes for Henry. I walked out of the store laden with bags. I looked at my watch, calculating whether I’d make it back in time to put Henry down for his nap. I sweated as I rushed, packages flopping around me. I saw Ellie drive past me then in her dirty battered car. And walking with my hands full, I had the feeling that the packages and the obligations weren’t the worst things in the world. I felt a glimmer of gratitude.

The Heights

E
llie was shaking so badly when she got in the car that she had to try three times to put the key in the ignition. The kiss with Jim was a dim memory. How in the hell had this become public knowledge? No one knew about it, except Jim and herself, and he’d told—that bastard.

She pulled out of the parking space and lit a cigarette. During the drive back she was thinking that the whole town must know about this. How stupid she’d been to think it would have been an unnoticeable thing. At a Vonborke party kissing someone else’s husband wouldn’t have registered a blip. She wondered how bad this was. She didn’t want to lose one of her oldest, and let’s face it, only friend—over a kiss.

She drove too fast, stubbed out her smoke in the overflowing ashtray, and ate mints out of a tin until her mouth was numb. A more pressing issue bore down on her. What was she going to do about money? That woman with her thousand-dollar handbag had bargained her down to a hundred dollars for Steven’s dress. Viola had called just yesterday offering her a job in the offices of Dress for Success. Ellie had been alarmed at this bit of charity and told her she’d
think about it. The position gave Ellie the nice cover of being connected with a nonprofit, as if she were feeding her soul and not flat broke. She had her reservations though about working in a conventional office. She’d never done that before, had no skills for it, and she knew she’d be bored into a coma.

She was already looking forward to the pill she’d take when she got home. She’d sleep the rest of the afternoon, and when she woke up in the early morning at one or two o’clock when the pill wore off she’d take another one and sleep most of tomorrow morning as well.

As she entered the Heights, it all looked so serene. The mature trees, now past bloom, were hung with lush green. They cast a dim greenish light that made her feel like a fish swimming in the bottom of an aquarium or the bottom of a kelp-filtered ocean—perfect for napping.

These streets gave her a feeling of seclusion that calmed her in a way she hadn’t felt since sitting in Selden’s living room.

She knew he was back, knew he hadn’t called her. But after her run-in in Chagrin Falls, she suddenly felt like getting all unpleasant conversations out of the way. Maybe she could wipe the slate clean today, in one day. Start over fresh, her favorite feeling—first days of school, the first days of spring.

She was determined to talk to him face-to-face. He wasn’t going to run away and solve everything over e-mail. She deserved at least one conversation with him.

She felt like she hadn’t talked to anyone in days besides her runin on the sidewalk, and the loneliness of her afternoon plans of a pill and a pillow depressed her. Now that she wasn’t working for Steven, time had become unreliable—dragging until she thought she’d lose her mind and then speeding up so that it seemed to be running out.

Once again she felt the desire that she’d felt quite frequently in recent days, and she turned toward Selden’s house.

Selden’s house. The comfort of it, the interior so hidden away and so much a part of him. She parked in front and opened the glove box, where she’d put the texts between him and Diana after Leforte had
returned them. She put the papers in her pocket next to the money. He’d never seen them after all.

She was on the porch, about to slip the papers under the doormat, when she thought she heard someone inside and then the door flew open.

Selden smiled at her, barefoot in grubby jeans, glasses, and untucked T-shirt.

“Ellie,” he said. “This is a surprise.”

He’d caught her crouching. She straightened, putting the papers in her pocket.

He looked somehow even younger than she remembered. Maybe it was the scruff on his jaw or his glinting glasses. “You’re back,” she said, slightly shocked to see him in person, looking strong, put together, in spite of his usual dishevelment.

He cocked his head to one side. “Yeah, I am. What are you doing here? Come in. Come in.”

“I can’t,” she said, turning away, suddenly wanting to disappear. She shouldn’t have come. She didn’t know what to say.

He furrowed his brow. “But you’re here.”

“I know. I was going to …” But she didn’t finish, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I really am glad you’re here. Come in,” he said again, opening the door wider and trying to wave her in.

Ellie hesitated but then Selden smiled at her, and she thought she’d go in, for just a minute, just to see the interior again. It would seem strange if she left.

It was the same as she’d remembered it. Selden’s books and papers littered every surface. Though not dirty, it was cluttered. He watched her surveying his living room.

“I’m working on a paper,” he said. “Sorry about the mess.” He looked at her for a long while. “Can I get you something?” he asked. “You look a little tired.”

“You know, I never get sick of hearing that,” she teased.

“I didn’t mean—”

But she cut him off. “A glass of water would be great.”

“Sit down or something,” he said. “Seriously, I’ll feel better.”

While he was in the kitchen she looked at the piles of papers—letters from academic institutions, grading sheets, galleys of an article.

She glanced at his computer and couldn’t help but see an open e-mail. After reading a few words, Ellie realized it was quite erotic. Glancing at the top, she saw it was from Diana and that she’d recently sent it. Diana wanted him back with all the longing and lust of the texts Ellie now carried in her pocket. The woman was dogged, that was for sure.

Selden cleared his throat behind her, and she jumped.

“Sorry,” she said.

He walked quickly over to the desk, saw what she was looking at, and snapped his laptop shut.

“You and Diana …”

He smiled, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

“But she’s writing you.”

“She was, she still is, yes.” He said it with a quiet resignation, leaning against the cold fireplace mantel.

“With no encouragement from you?” Ellie asked.

Selden shook his head silently. She realized then that he was holding himself awfully stiffly. And when she looked up in his face she realized why—she’d embarrassed him. By snooping through his e-mails, by bringing up the relentless Diana Dorset, possibly by even coming here today.

A tear slipped out then, partly because she was relieved he wasn’t in love with Diana, partly because she realized he felt guilty around her, and partly because he hadn’t called and here he was. Ellie brushed the tear away with the back of her hand.

“You’re very tired,” he said, alarm at the edge of his voice. “Won’t you let me make you comfortable?” He took her hand and led her away from the desk to a chair.

Two more tears slipped down her cheek, though she didn’t sob.

He was scrambling now that he’d seen her cry. “Won’t you rest a minute?” he asked. “This chair is the best spot in the house, yeah?”

She nodded, regaining control of herself, trying to discreetly wipe her eyes.

“We need a fire,” he said. “Probably the last one before summer.”

He stooped down in front of the fireplace, making adjustments to the wood laid there. It gave him something to do, she knew. He was nervous. She shouldn’t have cried.

“You left so quickly,” she said to his back as he lit a match to the kindling. Did she see his shoulders stiffen?

“The offer required it.” He stood up to face her.

“Did you like Paris?” she asked.

“Who doesn’t?”

“When good Americans die …”

“They go to Paris,” Selden said with a smile.

“Oscar Wilde,” she said. “The wittiest.”

Selden nodded at her.

“You didn’t say good-bye,” she said quietly.

Selden said nothing, looking at the floor. “I thought that best.”

The smallest hum of anger rose in Ellie. “I didn’t,” she said.

Selden shook his head. “Ells—”

“You hurt me, you know. You reduced me to e-mails.”

Selden said nothing.

Her anger rose a little farther; she felt shaky from controlling her tears. “Apparently that’s what you do, I guess.” She gestured toward the laptop.

“I was out of the country. It’s different.”

“I would have come to see you.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I thought I explained why.” They were silent for a few beats. “You threw me to the wolves.”

She saw something flash across his face then, anger, frustration, pain? “I didn’t throw you to the wolves. For God’s sake, you practically killed me. And that’s why I didn’t want you to come. You were just trying to save your reputation. If you had visited me, it would only have been to show that you weren’t having an aff—”

“You think I’m that calculating,” she interrupted, her voice low. “I wanted to see you.” Her voice rose. “But now that you mention it, your leaving reinforced everything.”

“I believe you’re saying it reinforced everything you’d already done,” he said in a whiplash tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“You know what I’m talking about.” His voice was low.

“You’re talking about a bunch of gossip?” she asked, disbelieving.

Selden pursed his lips and then said, “Randy Leforte told me himself that he fucked you on the desk in his office.”

Ellie stood up.

But Selden grabbed her arm, angry now. “He told me that night at the museum, the night you showed everyone your tit. It killed me. He knew it would too. And he told me you’d been screwing around with Gus Trenor. That he was about to move you into the apartment he keeps for his … for his …”

“For his what?”

“I saw you,” he breathed. “I saw you come out of there. Tell me it’s not true,” he said with his eyes closed.

She sat back down in the chair.

“Just tell me and I will tell them all to go to hell. The squash player, Leforte, Trenor. Just tell me it’s all lies.” He opened his eyes and kneeled down next to her chair.

“I wasn’t dating you when I slept with Randy.”

Selden let out a low groan.