Portraits (36 page)

She thought for a moment. She’d already let a stranger pick her up last night and what could happen to her in a restaurant? It didn’t seem quite so bold after all. Maybe it was the fact that he was older that reassured her. “I don’t know that I’m dressed for it, Mr. Ross…”

“You look lovely.”

“You should have your eyes examined.”

“I just did and they’re twenty-twenty. Now, may I take you to dinner?”

Again, Rachel considered, then said, “All right.”

“Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t know San Francisco restaurants, why don’t you decide?” …

Rachel, of course, had heard of Solari’s. It was one of San Francisco’s most famous restaurants, but she’d never been there.

The room was all she imagined it would be. Walnut paneling, dimly lit crystal chandeliers, snowy white linen, waiters in tuxedos, roses, candles, paintings, Persian rugs—it took her breath away.

“Good evening, Mr. Ross,” the
maître d’
, Emile, said as he ushered them to their table.

When they were seated, Rachel said, “If you’ll excuse me, I want to call home.”

She hated having to check in with mama, but if she didn’t it would just cause another war…“Mama?”

“Yes?”

“This is Rachel…”

“I know who it is.”

Rachel bit her lip. “I missed the ferry so I’ll be late.”

“What are you going to do about dinner?”

“I’ll have something. There’s a sandwich shop in the building. I’ll wait here for the next ferry.”

“Fine…papa came home.”

Was that supposed to please her? Dear papa, who never gave her a nickel, much less a smile or any indication of interest in her life…?

When she went back to the table, the waiter handed them a large menu. The prices were astounding.

“What would you like?” Jim asked.

“Why don’t you order…” God knew, she wouldn’t dare.

“Do you like sweetbreads? They’re very good here.”

“That sounds…fine.” She’d never had them.

First came the fresh green salad with bay shrimp, bouillon and a small portion of vermicelli. The sautéed sweetbreads were accompanied by asparagus topped with hollandaise. Dessert was French pastry and coffee.

Jim set down his coffee cup and said, “Someone who looks like you must have a difficult time fending off young men—”

“I don’t happen to like young men, so I’m not too bothered with that problem.”

He smiled at her candor. Which also gave him more hope.

“I’m pleased that you’ve allowed me to take you to dinner.”

“Well, since we ran into each other by—coincidence,” she answered, realizing that this was no coincidence.

He laughed, knowing how transparent their “accidental” meeting had been tonight. It hadn’t been at all subtle. “What do you do?”

“You mean where do I work? At the telephone company.”

This exquisite girl. “You?”

“Why not? There are millions of girls like me, Mr. Ross, but I’m luckier than they. I still have a job.”

He sat staring at her.

“What did you think I was last night, Mr. Ross? A society girl out slumming?”

He lit a cigarette and blew out the match. “I don’t really know what I thought except, if you’ll forgive me, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She peered over the rim of her coffee cup. Her deep blue eyes and thick brown lashes were a startling contrast to her blonde hair.

“Are you a…telephone operator?”

“Would it matter?”

“Of course not, just curious. I don’t know
why
I asked.”

“I work in the bookkeeping department, comptometers—terribly exciting work, Mr. Ross. Now you know all about my fascinating life, tell me about you.”

“About me? Well, I have a daughter going on eighteen.” He paused, and for the first time Rachel noticed a bitterness in his voice. “I’m married.”

“Happily?”

He looked at her. Not only beautiful, but observant. So it showed that much, did it? “No, Rachel. I haven’t been happy about my marriage for a very long time.” Strange, he thought, he’d never spoken to anyone about his marriage. In spite of the angelic face, she seemed strikingly mature. Not worldly, quite the opposite, and for some reason he had the odd feeling that her life had been less than all roses too…“We’re sitting here talking like old friends,” he said.

She allowed herself a smile, then, “Why do you stay married, Mr. Ross?”

“That’s a question an old friend would ask, thank you.” He pulled the lobe of his ear, then took a sip of coffee. “I suppose we stayed together for reasons that don’t really make sense, although I thought they did at the time…I don’t know, Rachel, maybe a feeling of failure, a feeling of responsibility. It’s a long story, and you have to catch a boat. Better still, would you trust me to take you home?”

“Yes, but I live in Oakland.”

“I know, you told me. I’ll drive you home.”

There was an odd sort of excitement Rachel felt as they drove off the ferry and onto the pier in the blue convertible. They rode in silence until they were within a block of her house.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’d like to get out here.”

“Why?”

“Well, that’s a long story too. If your car was seen in front of my house, I think I’d have a lot of explaining to do.”

He nodded. After all, he’d undoubtedly react the same way if he saw Maureen getting out of a stranger’s car.

Coming around to Rachel’s side, he opened the door and took her hand as he helped her out. “This has been a very curious evening, hasn’t it, Rachel?”

“Very…”

“I won’t forget tonight.”

“Nor will I. Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you. You’re an incredible young woman.”

“That’s debatable. Good night, Mr. Ross.”

“Good night, Rachel.” …

The next evening when Rachel stepped out of the revolving doors of the telephone building she wasn’t really surprised to see Jim Ross waiting for her.

“Any plans for this evening?”

Smiling, “No.”

“Dinner?”

“Lovely…”

He smiled suddenly, and so did Rachel. Starting up the engine, he drove without asking her for a preference. He’d long ago made up his mind.

Julius’s Castle sat high on a hill overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking.

When they were seated Jim watched as Rachel looked out to the bay. She was enchanted with the view, and even more so with her companion. The rain that she had been cursing only seconds before she first met Jim Ross now seemed like a blessing. How had she been so lucky? It was certainly something new. Well, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth…Suddenly her expression changed. “I almost forgot, I have to make a phone call.”

When she returned Jim noticed a peculiar look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Rachel?”

She tried to hold back the tears. Biting the corner of her lip, she sat for a moment, trying to gain her composure. Finally she answered, “What’s wrong is my mother…”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not especially, but I will. My mother can’t quite cope with the fact that I’m a big girl.”

“I suppose mothers are like that, Rachel…a little protective. And in your case, I can certainly understand it.”

“Can you really, Mr. Ross? Well, my mother’s not exactly protective. Domineering is more like it. She’s not your everyday run-of-the-mill mother…”

“Aren’t you judging her a little too harshly?”

Mother Teresa had asked the same question. “I don’t think so. It would take a year to explain her, so I’m not going to try. Besides, I don’t want to spoil our evening.”

“It’s a deal…Now, what’s your pleasure?”

“Just being here.”

As Jim ordered their meal, she watched him closely and wondered how it could be that she hadn’t noticed before what an extraordinarily handsome man he was. Maybe she’d just not given him too much thought…because of his age? Last night she was, frankly, mostly aware of the blue Cadillac, the feel of the fine leather upholstery, Solari’s, the ride home, his kindness…But as they ate in the dim candlelight, she couldn’t help noticing his soft brown eyes and the thick chestnut hair, the healthy glow of a tan and his deep, gentle voice.

Over coffee he said, “I didn’t sleep last night, Rachel.”

She knew why but asked, “Do you have a difficult time sleeping?”

“Not usually…”

“Then what kept you awake?” Oh, God, how coy, she scolded herself.

“You.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I’m not. You’re the loveliest reason to stay awake.”

She smiled. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone ever said about me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not saying the nicest things about you.”

“Really, Mr. Ross? Well, I guess, like they say, it’s all in the eyes of the beholder.”

“Certainly in the eyes of this one…I’m going to tell you something very strange, Rachel. When I got home I began to think about my life. I took a long hard look and after weighing all the pros and cons, I came to the conclusion that I owe myself something.”

“What’s that, Mr. Ross?”

“Some happiness, damn it. I’m forty-two, Rachel, and I’d say I’ve got some catching up to do.” He took a long sip of coffee, and, as though he’d thought about it quite carefully, said, “Rachel, I’d like to ask you to marry me.”

Good God, this quickly…? And yet it was exactly what she wanted to hear.

“Does that shock you?”

“Yes, especially since you told me you wouldn’t get a divorce until your daughter was of age.”

“I said it and meant it, but meeting you changed that. Besides, Maureen’s almost eighteen now. Next year she’ll be going to Paris to study at the Sorbonne.”

How different from her father, who felt that college was a waste of money for girls…

“Rachel, I love you. But if you need time to think about it…”

She didn’t really, and yet she was overwhelmed with how quickly they had come to this point. “Do people fall in love like this?”

“People fall in love in all sorts of ways, but you didn’t answer me.”

“The answer is—
yes
.”

He took her hand in his, feeling its softness and warmth. “I don’t ask the same from you, Rachel. Love is something that I know might take a little longer for you.”

“I’m not so sure, Mr.—”

“Jim, for God’s sake. I’m not quite that ancient.”

They laughed.

Rachel hesitated, then, “I’m Jewish, you know.”

“I stopped thinking about religion a long time ago. I don’t know what I am.”

“Well, so far as my religion is concerned, I do. In fact, I’d never thought of marrying anyone who wasn’t Jewish.”

“Does that really make a difference? I’ll convert if it will make you happy.”

“
No
…I wouldn’t think of it, it wouldn’t be right—”

“But I would, if you wanted me to—”

“No, you can’t become Jewish because someone wants you to. But…well, my children would have to be raised as Jews…”

“Rachel, my dearest Rachel, whatever makes you happy is fine with me.”

She shook her head. “Imagine, just because it rained…I think I’m always going to love the rain.”

“No question, it’s our element…Rachel, I’d like to meet your parents—”

“Not yet…”

“Why? Will you have a problem with them?”

“I’m sure. But first, what about your divorce?”

“I’m going to tell Maureen and her mother immediately.”

“How do you think your daughter will react to all this?”

“I’m going to tell her as gently as I know how that people fall out of—and in—love all the time. She’s old enough to understand.”

“And if she does…but doesn’t in your case?”

“She will, I know Maureen. I’m going to move out and take a suite at the Fairmont. This has changed everything for me—”

“And for
me—
”

They looked at each other. “It’s incredible,” he said. “I’d forgotten all about feeling like this.”

“And I never knew it was possible.” She looked almost fierce as she added, “Jim, I’m going to make you a very happy man.”

“You already have, my darling.”

When he stopped the car in the same place as the night before, he turned off the ignition, took Rachel in his arms and kissed her. The kiss didn’t really arouse her passion—only Sandy had done that—but this was tender, almost reverent and quite wonderful in its special way. Better, in fact, than all the frustrations of the heated passion she’d felt for Sandy and been denied. She was convinced this was the best kind of love—uncomplicated. Anyway, in time she might grow to love him as much as he loved her. Until then, affection would be enough, and she would be a good and devoted wife. She’d promised him, she meant it…

After helping her out of the car, he held her close to him and she clung to him the way she had never been able to cling to her father.

“I love you, Rachel.”

She answered him with a kiss.

“Goodnight, darling.”

Rachel smiled. “Goodnight.”

As she began to walk away he called out, “I forgot something.”

Opening the trunk of his car, he handed her a large box from I. Magnin.

“Oh, Jim, thank you, but you didn’t have to, you know—”

“I don’t know anything except I love you.”

For the first time in years, Jim spoke to Kelly alone. “You’ll be pleased to know I want a divorce.”

Kelly tilted her head sideways and raised her eyebrows. She knew it would have been impossible for someone as virile and attractive as Jim Ross not to have slept with women, but he was too discreet to ever be openly involved with anyone. They had maintained their image as the ideal couple, and he wouldn’t want Maureen to hear about dear daddy sharing another lady’s bed. Or, more to the point, mummy sharing another lady’s bed…too shameful. Why else had he put up with her? But darling James must have finally met the woman of his dreams. Well, it certainly was a long time coming, but better late than never. What a penance this had been…Finally she said, “Well, my goodness, will wonders never cease. So you got tired of celibacy?”

He ignored her. “I want you to get the divorce.”

Wasn’t that noble. Thanks to Maureen, he was doing it all so proper…so
decently.
“All right, Jim. Do you have a preference of attorneys?”