Remembrance (53 page)

Vanessa nodded agreement, thinking of how strange their lives had been, interwoven, and then broken apart, and then back again.

“And you?” He looked at her with a warm light in his eyes. “You're not married yet?”

“No.” For a moment she looked distant and then she smiled.

“A beautiful girl like you? That's a waste.” He wagged a finger and she laughed, and then she asked him another question.

“Does she look anything like me?”

He looked at her closely, and then shook his head. “Not really. There is a kind of impression. It's more in the way you move, the shape of your body. Not the face, or the eyes, or the hair.” He looked at Vanessa very hard then and she felt his eyes bore through her. “Do you want to see her, Vanessa?”

She was honest with him as her eyes met his. “I don't know. I'm not sure. I want to, but… what then? What will it do, to both of us?”

“Perhaps nothing. Perhaps you will meet as two strangers, and part the same way. Perhaps you will meet as sisters. Or you will grow to be friends. It is difficult to say.” And then, hesitantly, “Vanessa, you should know, she looks a great deal like your mother. If you remember your mother at all, it may upset you to see her.” It was odd to think of it, why should this girl she had never seen look anything like her mother? The whole idea of having a sister was suddenly almost more than Vanessa could understand. She felt suddenly exhausted again as she sat there with Andreas, and he saw all the emotions crossing her face and reached out a hand for hers. “You have time to think it over. She is away for two weeks. On a cruise with some friends.” He looked sheepish. “She is supposed to be in school, but … it's a long story, but she talked me into it. My children say I spoil her rotten, but she's a good girl.”

Vanessa thought about what he had said. “When will she be back?”

“Two weeks from today. She left last night.” Vanessa thought it over with exasperation. If she hadn't lingered in Rome, she could have come to Athens the day before, and it would be over. She would be on her way back to the States by now, with whatever impressions she had gathered and the deed done. Now she would have to wait for fourteen days.

“I suppose I could go somewhere else, and come back.…” She mulled it over and he watched her. When he thought there was no one looking, there was something unbearably sad in his face.

“Wouldn't you like to stay here, in Athens?” He smiled the smile of a host. “You could move into the house, if the hotel is a problem.” But Vanessa smiled and shook her head.

“You're very kind, but it isn't that. I'm just not sure what I'd do sitting here for two weeks. I could go to Paris, I guess.” But she really didn't want to. She wanted to take a look at Charlotte and go home. She had decided that much now, but wait another two weeks?

“Why don't you try waiting here?” He inclined his head in a gentlemanly fashion. “I will do my very best to entertain you.”

“No, really, I couldn't impose on you—”

He interrupted her. “Why not? You have waited sixteen years for this moment. May I not share it with you? May I not help you to live through the fears, to deal with the anticipation, to have someone to talk to?” As he said it she wanted to let him take care of her forever, he had that kind of way about him, a way of giving in every way he could, so that one felt as though one had been given a part of his very soul.

“You must have better things to do.”

“No.” He looked at her very strangely. “I don't. What you are doing is much more important than anything I was attending to when you arrived. Besides,” he said, shrugging easily, “October is a slow month in Athens.” He laughed in his husky way. “Athens is slow all year.” And then he smiled as he asked a question. “And what do you do in New York, Vanessa? Your uncle is a doctor, I believe.”

“He is, and so is his wife. I'm much less respectable than they are.” She smiled at Andreas. “I'm a photographer.”

“Are you?” He looked pleased. “Are you good at it?”

“Sometimes.”

“Then we'll have to take pictures together. I enjoy photography too.” They began to talk then of a recent exhibition that had come to New York and also to Athens, and the time began to drift by as if they were old friends. And at ten o'clock they both remembered that they hadn't eaten. Andreas insisted on taking her to a restaurant nearby, which turned out to be a beautiful little place with marvelous food. When he brought her back to the hotel at one o'clock in the morning, she was exhausted and happy, and felt like a different woman than when she'd arrived. She tried to share the feelings with him, but he only hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks. “Never mind, Vanessa. It is I who thank you. I shall see you tomorrow. Does that suit you? We'll go and take pictures on the Acropolis, if you'd like that.” She could think of nothing better. They said good night again, and she went back to her room.

She found herself musing over things he had said, as she undressed slowly, and she found her mind full of him as she fell asleep. The prospect of waiting two weeks to meet Charlotte still didn't thrill her, but at least for a few days she could spend some time with Andreas, and after that she'd have to see.

When she awoke the next morning, the maid was bringing in an enormous bouquet of flowers. They were fragrant and brilliantly hued in a big handsome white vase, and Vanessa looked stunned. The card said only WELCOME, ENJOY YOUR STAY, ANDREAS, but she was very touched and told him so when he picked her up. He was driving a large silver Mercedes, and in die backseat he had a whole basket of Greek goodies for her to eat. In addition he had brought along for her a picnic basket, in case they didn't want to go back to eat. She looked at him strangely for a moment, as though she didn't understand him, and he met her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Why are you so good to me, Andreas?” Perhaps he felt sorry for her, or he felt an obligation, but there was something very different in his eyes.

“For one thing, you are a very lovely young woman, possibly the loveliest I've ever seen. For another thing, I care about you, Vanessa. I did a long time ago when you were a child.” How blessed she had been then to have two men who had cared so much about her. Teddy, and perhaps even this man. “You were special to me even then.”

“But you don't know me now.” She was still puzzled, and she wanted to know what he saw.

But he looked at her very deeply. “I do know you, little one. I knew what was happening to you then, and I can see what has happened to you now.” It was almost like having a father, and yet it was not like that at all. He was unusual and special and terribly attractive, she felt herself being swept away on a current she didn't understand at all.

“How can you see what has happened?” She tried to look amused, but she was not.

“I can see it in your eyes.”

“What do you see, Andreas?” She spoke softly and he stopped the car and pulled off the road.

“I see how much you have been hurt, Vanessa. I see what Vasili must have done to you as a child. It is as though something in you has been beaten.” And then, in a matter-of-fact voice, “I can also see that you're afraid of men.” She started to deny it, and then, feeling defeated, she shook her head.

“Does it show so easily, then?”

“No.” He smiled at her and looked more handsome than ever. “I'm just a very wise man.”

“Be serious.” She began to laugh at him and he laughed too.

“I am serious.” And then he turned toward her and asked a question that shocked her. “Are you still a virgin, Vanessa?”

“I … no …” She blushed beet-red and looked away.

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not.” And then after a moment's pause, softly, “I am.”

“Is there someone you love?” It was odd to be answering all these questions he asked her, and yet she wanted to. It was as though she wanted to give herself to him.

“Maybe. I don't know. I haven't made up my mind.”

“But you haven't gone to bed with him?”

She sighed softly. “I can't.” And then as they drove into the hills around Athens she told him how it was with her and men —how she'd feel afraid when they got too close to her and she held them at bay, even more so since she remembered the murder, she would picture his face and feel all over again how panicky she was then.

“One day, Vanessa, you will forget that.” And then he shook his head. “No, that is wrong. You won't forget it. But it will not haunt you. Most of all, you must stop being afraid.”

“But how?” She turned to him as though he had all the answers, and in some ways he did.

“Time. Everything heals in time. It hurt me a great deal when my wife died.”

“That's not the same thing.”

He glanced at Vanessa. “No, it's not.”

“What about Charlie? … Charlotte … is she like me at all? …”

Andreas chuckled softly. “No, little one.” But his eyes sobered then as he patted Vanessa's hand. “But she has nothing to remember. She was only a baby. And she is young and beautiful, and all the boys love her and she loves them. She is a tease and a flirt and a little beast. That one”—he rolled his eyes and laughed again—”will lead some poor man a merry chase.” Vanessa envied her as she listened. It seemed part of another life. But Andreas understood her and looked at her seriously again. “It is a great deal harder to be who you are. All that Charlotte has ever known is that she is greatly loved. She is the fruit of an unfortunate union between two people who flew across the sky at each other and crashed like falling stars. They met and exploded in a hailstorm of beautiful comets. She is one of those comets, and the falling stars simply vanished from the heavens as they died.”

“You make it sound so lovely.”

“It was lovely, for a time, Vanessa. They loved each other very much.”

“But look what happened then.” She sounded mournful, and he looked at her severely.

“No, you must stop looking at that, Vanessa. You must look at the beginning, at when it meant something. If you look always at the trail of dust behind the car, you will never see the beauty of the machine.” The allegory amused her and she smiled. “Everything is beautiful for a time. Some things have great meaning in a lifetime, what they become later doesn't always matter so much. In your mother's case it was tragic, but it still meant a great deal. They had a child who is a joy to everyone who knows her, and especially to me. Just as you were the fruit of your mother's love for your father. When he died, none of the beauty could ever be forgotten, because there was you. You must learn to hold the moment, Vanessa, only the moment… not to try to seize an entire life.” She was silent for a long time after he said it, and in time they reached the Acropolis, took all of their photographs, and then ate their picnic on the hills. For the rest of the afternoon they stayed away from difficult subjects, and made each other laugh with funny tales and memories. They compared their cameras, took pictures of each other, cavorted and laughed and had a wonderful time. It was as though he were her own age and not old enough to be her father, and when he took her back to the hotel, she was sorry to see him go.

“Dinner tonight, or are you tired?” She wanted to say no to him, but she couldn't. It didn't seem right to monopolize all his time, but she enjoyed being with him and she had nothing else to do.

They met again for dinner that night, and the next night, and the night after. And on the fifth night they went dancing, and when he brought her home, he seemed unusually quiet.

“Is something wrong, Andreas?” She looked at him and saw that the lines around his eyes seemed deeper.

He smiled. “I think you've worn me out. I'm an old man, you know.”

“That's not true.” It was certainly hard to believe looking at him.

“Well, it feels true, and when I look in the mirror …” He made a terrible face.

She invited him into the hotel for a drink, and although he looked tired, he accepted, and as they sat over ouzo and coffee she felt oddly nostalgic. Her days in Greece were the happiest of her life.

“What were you thinking just then?”

She looked at him for a long moment, and without her thinking, the words slipped out. “That I love you.”

He looked as though she had reached deep inside him and touched his heart. He looked startled and gentle and deeply touched. “The nicest part of all that is that I love you too.”

“It's funny.” She looked at him and he took her hand. “I came to see my sister, and in the last few days I've forgotten about her most of the time.” For a moment Vanessa looked embarrassed. “All I think about is you.”

“I've been falling in love with you since you got here, my love, but I didn't think it was right… a beautiful young girl and such an old man.”

“Stop saying that.” She looked hurt. “You're not old.”

He looked at her in an odd way. “I will be very soon.”

“Does that matter?” Her voice was very soft, and she could feel his breath, soft on her face as he sat very close to her. “It doesn't matter to me, Andreas, not at all.”

“Perhaps it should.” His voice was as soft as hers.

“What about the falling stars? Don't we have a right to be falling stars too, for one moment before we fall out of the heavens, never to be seen again?”

“Is that what you want, only a moment instead of a lifetime? My darling, you deserve much more.”

“You told me that I was wrong, that I should search for the moment, and not the lifetime.”

“Ah.” He smiled gently at her. “You see … the foolish things that I say.…” But he was looking at her so profoundly and with such love that she moved gently toward him, and a moment later she was in his arms and he was kissing her as he hadn't kissed a woman in half his lifetime, and all he wanted in what remained of his life was this splendid young girl. “I love you, Vanessa … oh, darling.…”He held her close. He wanted to take her upstairs to her hotel room, but more than that, he wanted to take her home with him. He laid some money on the table, stood up with a gentle smile, and held out his hand to her. She asked no questions. She followed him out of the hotel, got in his car, he drove her home, and ten minutes later they were standing in his palatial home with the fountains and the atrium and the courtyard, the exotic plants and the priceless objects he had collected from around the world. Quietly, holding her hand, he led Vanessa to his room, closed the door and locked it, so none of the servants would surprise them in the morning, and then led her to the small study where he often sat, staring into the fire. He threw a match into it now, and in a moment there was a cozy blaze before them, and he sat beside her and kissed her, and then knelt before her, with her face in his hands. He touched the lines of her face and ran his fingers through her hair, touched her throat and her neck and her breasts and circled her waist with his hands. He touched her and held her and caressed her, until the fire began to grow dim, and then he looked at her gently and asked her permission to take her to his bedroom.