Nell (44 page)

The beer Nell drank gave her a headache. She rose, told Clary she needed to walk on the deck to see if the fresh air would help. I am getting old, Nell thought. I am getting old and cranky. It hurts to come and go from Andy in such a brief period of time. It jars me. Change is hard on me. I’m like some old horse.

She walked on the deck, passing other tourists, who stood in their sweaters and jackets watching as the ferry surged through the waves. Goddamnit, Nell thought crabbily, why do people smile and laugh on ferries? It suddenly seemed to her such a heartbreakingly foolish enterprise, all this passing back and forth over the water from one piece of land to another. Why do we do it? Why do we travel? Nell wondered. She plopped down on a plastic chair near the rails and stared at the darkening waves. Why do people go to Nantucket? she wondered. What do they find there? Quaint streets, seagulls, beaches—but all that can be found on the mainland. No, there’s something special about
going to an island, and part of it is the voyage itself. Time must pass. Boats and people must pass over water, an unconcerned element. Andy seemed far away to Nell now, because water was coming between them, and water was different from land, water was a fluid, heartless element that would not be held or stayed. That would not be trusted in any way. Like life. Like luck. Like love?

All this beauty, Nell thought; you have to be strong, you have to be intact, to survive all this beauty and the gift of it and the loss. So much flash was involved: sunlight on water, people’s laughter in the air. That flash, like scarlet leaves in autumn or skyrockets on the Fourth of July, provoked a fierce longing, a need for that beauty to stay.

Clary joined Nell on deck. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” Nell said. “Just tired.”

“God, I know what you mean,” Clary said. “I’m going to have to wash my hair when I get home. I’ve got another job interview tomorrow, and—”

Nell let Clary talk on, but she didn’t really listen. What Clary means when she says she’s tired and what I mean are two different things, she thought. Clary could go to Nantucket, Nell decided, because she was still young, still optimistic, in spite of her cynicism. Clary could still find the energy to make the trip and bear the transitions. Clary was still intact enough to handle all the greetings and partings. But Nell thought she almost could not stand it anymore—the emotion of coming and going, of saying goodbye. Because Nantucket was an island and was approached or left by water, the arrivals and departures were always so much more dramatic, as if archetypal scenes stretching back to ancient times were being repeated whenever land came into view or faded.

Nell looked away from the water. She put her arms on the back of the chair in front of her and rested her head on her arms. She did not know how much longer she could continue to make this voyage. She had already had so many people enter and leave her life that the actual physical event, especially in such overwhelming beauty, stunned her, hurt her. Clary was still young enough to feel only the adventure. But Nell could not resist feeling the resounding metaphor.

“Bad headache, huh,” Clary asked.

“Yes,” Nell said. It was true. Her head did hurt. So did her stomach. But she was past tears. Where am I in life? she wondered. Will I always be traveling to find love?

“Want some aspirin?” Clary asked.

“Do you have any?”

“Yeah,” Clary replied. She went off and returned with a cup of water and two aspirin.

“Thanks,” Nell said. She took the aspirin, drank the water. “I’m sorry I’m such a bore tonight, Clary,” she said. “I’m just so tired.” She put her head on her arms again.

Clary put her hand on Nell’s back for a while. When the ferry got to Hyannis, Nell went below, to avoid watching the boat approach the land.

Ilona did not have to have an abortion. A week before her appointment at the clinic, she had a miscarriage. It was a scary, bloody, messy event that landed her in the hospital for a few days, and in the midst of it all she called Phillip and asked him to come see her. He came, and before the day was over, they had made up, canceled their divorce, and made plans for a long second honeymoon in the Bahamas as soon as she was well enough to travel. As soon as the hospital would release her, Phillip brought her home and put her in bed with a nurse-housekeeper to look after her. Thursday night Phillip had his regular squash game and steam night, so Ilona called Nell and asked her to come over.

* * *

“I’m bored,” Ilona said. So Nell came, bringing Hannah and Jeremy. They were installed downstairs in the den with a TV and with whatever delicacies the housekeeper could tempt them, and Nell was upstairs with Ilona, in her bedroom.

In fact, on her bed. Ilona’s bedroom was not very much smaller than Nell’s entire house. It had a fireplace at one end and French doors at the other, opening onto a private balcony. It had a cream brocade chaise longue with a deep brown bearskin rug thrown over it and bearskin rugs on the floor.

“I love walking on fur, don’t you?” Ilona asked Nell.

“I suppose,” Nell replied. “I’ve never walked on fur before.” She was in Ilona’s
bedroom for the first time and was rather daunted by its size and opulence. “That is, unless you count cat and dog fur,” she added.

“Oh, Nell, you’re so funny,” Ilona said. “You always cheer me up.”

Nell had started off by sitting in one of the wing chairs by the window. But the housekeeper had brought them dinner on trays, and the distance between the chair and the bed was so great and made Nell feel so ridiculously formal that finally she carried her tray over to Ilona’s bed. Ilona sat resting against pillows and the headboard with her tray on her lap, and Nell sat on the other side of the bed at the opposite end, a pillow cushioning her against the footboard, her tray on her lap. The housekeeper had fixed them lasagna and brought them huge helpings of it with garlic bread and Chianti.

“Well, you certainly have managed to land on your feet,” Nell said to Ilona when they finished eating.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ilona said. “I guess. Although I’m certainly not sure I’m doing the right thing. I wish I were courageous like you, Nell. Then I’d have more fun.”

Nell was scraping the rim of her plate with her fork, trying to get every tiny bit of the lasagna. “Courageous,” she said. “More fun. What do you mean?”

Ilona played with her bread. (There’s one difference between us, Nell thought, watching her: I eat my bread and wish for more, and she just sits there tearing her bread into unappetizing little pieces and stays skinny.) “Oh well,” Ilona said. “If I had the courage to live alone, then I’d have more fun. That’s what I mean. I mean, it’s so wonderful falling in love, isn’t it? That part is really the highlight of life, don’t you think? The falling in love? You know—when you first meet a man and then you begin to wonder if he likes you and then you get all shivery and sick at your stomach when he asks you out. You know, I’ve had more thrills from having a strange new man just touch my elbow than from
hours
in bed with Phillip. Oh, Nell, I don’t want to give that up.”

“Well then, don’t,” Nell said.

“Could you take my tray?” Ilona asked. “Thanks,” she said as Nell rose to put her tray and Ilona’s on the table between the two wing chairs. Ilona stretched. “I’ll tell you a secret,” she said. “I’ve almost stopped bleeding. I feel fine. Actually, I feel great. But I’m going to stay in this bed and milk this situation for all it’s worth. At least this way I get Phillip to pay some attention to me. Oh look,” she said, interrupting herself, reaching to
her neck to part her negligee. She brought out a necklace that had been lying against her chest, a gold chain with an enormous gold and diamond heart. “Corny, isn’t it?” she grinned. “He gave it to me when I got home from the hospital—a coming-home gift, he said.” She let it fall back against her skin. “It’s the only way he can express his love,” she sighed.

“Jesus Christ!” Nell exploded. “Ilona, sometimes you really do make me angry!”

“I do?” Ilona said, surprised.

“Yes, you do.” Nell had gotten up to put the trays on the table and now she shoved her hands into her sweater pockets and walked around Ilona’s bed as she talked. “You sit there in diamonds and gold, with a housekeeper bringing you your food, and snivel about not having fun! I think having diamonds and gold and a housekeeper might be a lot of
fun
, but I’ve never had the chance to find out. You whine that Phillip doesn’t show you enough affection—my God, Ilona! Here he’s treating you like a queen, like a precious damsel in distress, after you went out and got knocked up by another man! You think it’s more thrilling to be single and keep falling in love—well, why don’t you do it? And listen—don’t start that ‘courageous’ bit again. I’m not single because I’m courageous. I’m single because I have no fucking choice! Here you are, with all your security and luxury, expecting
me
to give you sympathy! Well, I won’t. I just fucking won’t!” Nell stopped talking, but her anger was still with her. She stood poised by Ilona’s bed, her eyes wide, her mouth pressed in a line, her fists clenched. She was shaking.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ilona said, her voice low. To Nell’s amazement, Ilona began to yell. “No you don’t get away with that! Don’t you try that pitiful single mother routine on me, Nell!” Ilona pushed back her covers and rose to her knees to face Nell.

“I
am
a pitiful single mother!” Nell said. She nearly sobbed it.

“You could have married Ben Hedges!” Ilona said. “Don’t forget, I know all about that. You could have married Ben and have had plenty of diamonds and gold. Why, you could probably marry old Ben right now; he’s still single, I hear. But you won’t will you? You wouldn’t
dream
of it, would you? Nell,
what do you think you want
?”

“I know
exactly
what I want,” Nell said. “I want to be married to a man I love. I want to go to sleep next to him and wake up next to him. I want to bring him chicken soup when he’s sick and listen to him complain about his troubles and care for him and
have him care for me. I want to be married to a man I love. I truly, truly do, Ilona!” Now Nell was crying.

“But you wouldn’t marry Ben,” Ilona said.

“No. I didn’t love him. He was—boring.”

“All right. He was a lawyer and he had money and he was kind, but he was boring, so you wouldn’t marry him. And you wouldn’t marry Steve, and I bet you wouldn’t marry Stellios, either.”

“Well, Ilona,” Nell said. “Stellios and Steve—you know them. They’re—”

“They’re what?” Ilona asked. “Go on. Be a snob. They’re poor and they’re laboring class and they ride motorcycles over dirt mounds, so even if they’re adorable and love you and are kind to your children, you wouldn’t dream of spending your life waking up next to them. Right?”

“Right,” Nell said. “But, Ilona, come on, you wouldn’t, either.”

“I think I would,” Ilona said. “I like to think I would. I like to think that if I found a man who made me feel—a man who loved me
passionately
, I’d marry him in a minute, even if he were a pauper.”

“Ilona, you’ve had
passion
. You got all the passion you’ll ever need from Frank,” Nell said. “And look where it got you.”

“I know where it got me,” Ilona yelled. “It got me right back here in my diamonds and gold with the world’s shortest fuck one night a week—if Phillip’s not too tired!”

The bedroom door opened. The nurse-housekeeper slinked in on her rubber-soled shoes. “Is something the matter, ma’am?” she asked, looking from Ilona to Nell, who were facing each other like a pair of prize-fighters, fists clenched to strike, Ilona kneeling on her bed in all her frothy lace, Nell standing by the side of the bed, her blue-jeaned legs spread slightly in a boxer’s stance.

“Everything’s fine, Hilda,” Ilona said in a calm voice, haughtily lowering her eyelids over her huge eyes.

The housekeeper paused a moment, puzzled, unsure of her duty just now, then turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Nell and Ilona collapsed on Ilona’s bed, laughing. “Oh
God
,” Ilona said. “I feel like a little kid who’s just been reprimanded by the headmaster!”

“Are you all right, Ilona?” Nell asked. “I mean, did you just hurt yourself right now?”

“Heavens no, Nell,” Ilona said. “I don’t think yelling and laughing can do much more harm to my poor old uterus.” But she crawled back under the covers all the same. As she smoothed out the sheet and blankets around her, her face grew more solemn. “I wish Frank hadn’t been such a shit,” she said. “He was such a yummy lover. He could go on and on.” She looked at Nell. “He never called me again after he found out I was pregnant. Can you believe that?”

“No,” Nell said. “That’s awful, Ilona. That’s horrible.”

“He’s a
shit
,” Ilona said. “The shit of the ages.”

“Yes,” Nell said. “He is.”

The two women sat together a moment, contemplating Frank’s shittiness. Then Ilona looked up at Nell and said, “And I suppose you want to marry Andy.”

“Yeah, I do,” Nell said. “Yeah, I sure do.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think it’s not going to happen. There are too many complications. No, that’s not true. I think it’s not going to happen because he doesn’t want to get married to me. Oh, Ilona, when I was a girl I thought I knew how it was going to be. I thought I’d meet some man and it would be true love forever. I always thought those tales about lovers who didn’t get things worked out were
tragedies
. I thought they were about unusual people. I thought ordinary people just fell in love and got married. And here it turns out that we’re all muddling around in love, making mistakes, never finding the right person, getting our hearts broken, discovering that love brings us more pain and misery than joy or peace. God. Here we are falling in love with people who won’t marry us.”

“Or,” Ilona said, “marrying people who don’t know how to love.”

They looked at each other in silence. Their eyes dropped, and for a moment Nell and Ilona each silently reflected on their individual miseries. “Well,” Ilona brightened, “I guess Phillip and I will be going to the Bahamas next week. Do you have any gorgeous outfits for me at the boutique?” And they began to talk about clothes.