Splintered Heart (16 page)

Ferris, sitting reading in the nearby chair was unaware.

"I must stop this. I must not stand here and listen. I must hang up," Marian told herself.

The connection between herself and the woman at the other end of the line was alchemistical steel that Marian could not sever.

Finally, after sixty long seconds, there was the click.

Ferris looked up as Marian set the receiver slowly, carefully back down on its hook.

"Who was that, dear?" Ferris asked.

"Just a wrong number," Marian said.

In that moment, Marian knew that it wasn't a little war that she was fighting. It was a very big war. And she had not yet begun to vanquish the enemy. She wasn't even sure who was the enemy. Andrea? Or herself?

* * *

At breakfast Marian announced, "I may be late getting home this evening, Ferris dear. I have quite a few appointments in fact." She smiled pleasantly.

"Just enjoy yourself. You know where I'll be. Charles and I won't lunch out today, we'll order from the deli. Phone me anytime you feel like it," Ferris answered with a very pleasant smile.

She wasn't in the mood for ping pong. Without the usual pleasant smile, Marian said, "I
 
believe
 
you Ferris, when you say you are working. I trust you Ferris."

Something in the quietness of Marian's tone made Ferris look up from his coffee cup and his morning paper.

...
God, no more quicksand, was his first reaction
 
— he didn't want the rehashing to become a part of their daily life — he was thinking of couples they knew, who believed in airing any and all grievances because it was healthy and honest.

He was also thinking "God I love her!"

He saw that she was wearing his ring. It brought back good memories — how surprised she'd been when he pulled it out of his shirt pocket without a box or a wrapping — she thought he'd forgotten their anniversary. It was a moment that Ferris would always remember — the amazed and childlike, adoring look on Marian's face when he'd slipped the ring very casually onto her finger and told her, "You are my pride and my prize!"

..
.We've got to close off all this bad stuff, get back to our good life together, make like nothing of any great or lasting significance has happened — she needs me to do what's best for us both,
 
he decided. That was why, instead of expressing these thoughts, Ferris took a sip of coffee. With a nod and a smile he acknowledged Marian's statement about trusting him, adding, "You look beautiful this morning, I love you very much, Marian."

Then he looked back down at the newspaper and turned the page.

* * *

Elena stood back and looked Marian over. "Oh Mari, I love you, you look simply beautiful this morning!"

Marian laughed because the words were almost identical, and on Elena's lips they seemed so much more enthusiastic.

"Paul phoned, asked me to tell you that he's been getting pressure from the wolf-man, Mari. Anything you want me to do?"

"Let the old wolf pressure all he wants, I refuse to get myself upset about a nervous client." Marian looked out the window, at the silvery river. "There
 
is
 
one thing you can do for me Elena."

"What is it? Name it, Mari."

"Take the rest of the day off, and come shopping with me." Marian laughed nervously. "It's just a screening party but I need a dress if I'm going to go!"

* * *

The first dress was bought on an impulse. A flouncy yellow organza — it fit perfectly, it made her feel like a yellow rose but even as it was being wrapped, Marian knew it wasn't right for the screening party.

The other dress was hi-fashion, a purple plum velvet that made Marian look extra tall and willowy. The drape over the bosom was made-to-order fitted, but the waist was snug, and it was more than slightly uncomfortable across the hips. Marian still wasn't sure, until she saw the earrings — they were dangling, glittering amethysts, not her usual style — but when she held them to her ears and Elena gasped "You're going to look like a model!" that was
 
IT
. The earrings became the "Andrea" earrings; purple dress was the "Andrea" dress for the "Andrea" party. Then, elegant "Andrea" boots were bought and an impractical, expensive "Andrea" cape. It was a fabulous dangerous shade of burgundy that almost but not quite clashed with the rich royal purple.

* * *

Marian wondered what Andrea would be wearing to the party.

...Has she bought something new? Is she trying it on in front of the mirror? Showing it off to her friend Myra? Is she with one of her other boyfriends, a young man or one of her older married lovers...?

It was a mistake to allow herself that minute. The black came flooding in — she was at the phone, her fingers trembling so much that she could hardly manage to dial Ferris' number.

Marian counted the rings. With each ring a question reverberated.

...Why is Ferris always working so late? Why is a soup commercial presentation taking so much time to prepare? Why is he calling me at my office so much now? Why is he being so careful to explain where he's having lunch? Maybe it's not really lunch? Is Charles in on it too? Why doesn't he answer the phone — where is he? Is he with
 
HER
...?

On the ninth ring, Ferris answered, out of breath. "I was in the darkroom with the photographer, up to my elbows in developer. We took some shots of soup cans for the presentation. He's a good photographer but he seems to needs me to help him get it right. Are you O.K. Marian? You sound like you've been asleep or something?"

His voice was reassuring. He joked about the fact that he'd been assisting an assistant. He made her laugh. Photography had been a hobby of Ferris' since he was a boy, and he knew that she knew that he enjoyed that aspect of his work. There was a certain tenderness between them suggesting that soon everything was going to be back to the lovely loving way it had been, before Andrea.

* * *

"Would you like to see what I bought to wear for the screening party?"

Ferris put down his keys, laid his briefcase on the marble table and nodded. "I'll just fix myself a drink."

Marian came into his study with the purple dress as he was settling into his lounge chair with drink and newspaper. She put the dress against her body, promenaded like a model.

"Looks good. You look a little thinner or is it my imagination?"

"I've been doing exercise at Rickey's. Wait till you see the cape I bought. It's divine!"

"'Divine?' That's a new word for you." Ferris glanced at the headlines.

"And tomorrow I'm off to the Beauty Salon!" Marian showed Ferris the salmon pink paper, her membership card for Armand's garden.

Ferris glanced at the salmon pink schedule and nodded approvingly, "Sounds like you've been having a lot of fun getting ready for this party darling." He took a sip of his drink and turned to the sports section.

...It's not fun…it's work, hard work....

Even if she had said it out loud, Marian wasn't sure that Ferris would have understood.

* * *

They went to bed with books.

Marian felt Ferris stirring, adjusting his pillows, heard him turning the pages. She found herself wondering what kind of thoughts he was having?

...Sexual thoughts...?

Marian knew her husband had to be thinking that way. She wondered if he was waiting for her to give him some kind of signal.

When the light was off, she listened to Ferris breathing. She knew he wasn't asleep.

...Is he thinking of me, or is he thinking of Andrea?

Jamming her mind with calculations, Marian forced herself to go over cash flow problems, to review advertising budgets for Wexler and the
 
Caucus Club
, to go over the figures for gross and net profits.

Black thoughts were beneath the mathematics.

Marian forced herself to consider what was the blackest, the worst of her fears. ...That he'll ask for a divorce? That I'll be alone like Mamma, and single, like Miss Cresset...?

++++++++++

Chapter 20

"What do you think Lady Marian will wear?" Myra was picking through Andrea's wardrobe.

Andrea crossed one leg over the other, observing her high-heeled satin bedroom slipper balanced precariously on her big toe. Through half closed eyes, the late afternoon world was grey and distant, the foot was a faraway foot belonging to a bodiless limb suspended in dusky space.

Myra held up a pair of silver lame pants and a sequin blouse. "These are possible, but you certainly could use some new clothes!" With the clothes against her body, she looked at herself in Andrea's full length mirror. "Shit, it's too dressy. Lady Marian is probably going to be elegant and expensive. Maybe you should wear the black velvet!"

"Kind of extreme for a screening, don't you think?" Andrea yawned.

"Try it on! Shelley would love a style show, wouldn't you honey?"

"Yes Mommy," Shelley said. She was on her knees, quietly arranging Aunt Andrea's collection of spike heel pumps and slippers.

"I wore it New Years eve, remember?"

"Gawd, how could I forget, I caught you in my bedroom screwing Royce and what's-his-face — two guys that night!"

"The other guy was Pete, but we were just talking — "

"Talking — with his pants off? Royce had his pants off and what's-his-face had his hands all over you — "

"Honestly Myra, you have some imagination!" Andrea pantomimed, "Shh," indicating Shelley.

"Why don't you turn on the TV dear," Myra said. "Isn't
 
Sesame Street
 
on?"

"You can stretch out on my bed while your Mother and I have a drink." Andrea picked up some pillows and made a back support for the child. "You want me to turn the TV on for you?"

"I know how," Shelley said, snapping it on, getting onto the pillows.

Myra lit up a cigarette. "Andrea, why don't we have our own party! Everyone is going to want drinks after the screening, we can get all the guys on the crew to come! We can invite Ferris and what's-his-name — his partner, the one who answers the phone all the time — he sounds nice — "

"Charles Riche?"

"A wild party — we'll have it at my place. Who else can we invite?"

"Well, I met this nice photographer — Aldo — I've been meaning to tell you about him."

"If he's sexy and cute, call him up, invite him! We'll have Royce, Pete, old boyfriends, new boyfriends, disco music — Ferris will go mad when he sees you in that black outfit — oh this is so exciting! A party is just what we need to cure our depression!"

"I'm supposed to go to London, remember?"

"It'll be a wild send off! What about food?"

Andrea sipped her drink and let Myra plan guest list, food and music — the stage setting for
 
The Wild Send Off
 
— Myra was the director, Andrea was the star.

After they'd gone, Andrea phoned Aldo. Aldo was glad to hear from Andrea and very friendly, so Andrea invited him over for a drink.

When Myra phoned to say goodnight, Aldo was leaning back on the pillows Andrea had arranged for Shelley. "Did I wake you, Andrea darling? You sound sleepy. Listen, I just got the greatest idea. We're all depressed, we all need a change of scenery, Shelley's been moping for weeks. It's going to be a big send off party, because you, me and Shelley — we're
 
all
 
going to England!

Andrea smiled while Myra went on with the plans for the party. Aldo was caressing her hand, rubbing her back and she'd just noticed that her darling Avocado plant had sprouted its first tiny leaf. It was ever so slightly trembling, shivering in the evening air.

++++++++++

Chapter 21

The day before the screening, they sat Marian on a barbershop chair and put a quilted cloth over her clothes. She was the centerpiece in a quadrangle of mirrors. Pink lights were turned on. They worked without words in an exquisite kind of ceremony, six loving hands

First they massaged and patted a paste onto her face and neck; then another white paste over it, and a layer of gauze, and another layer of paste on top of that until she looked as if she'd been cast in plaster. While the layers were hardening, Marian lay back in her reclining chair.
 
...Twelve-years-old she'd been, the first day that womanhood had come upon her. Mamma hadn't told her what to expect. With the bulky sanitary pad restricting every movement, she'd sat all day long in the hot school room, looking at other girls at their desks wondering — did
 
they
 
know this dreadful new fact of life? ...At recess, watching her friends playing baseball, swinging on the swings, roller skating, skipping rope, she could think of nothing else... Every month for more than a year, she was obsessed with wondering about the girls in her own class, and in the grade above and the grade below, and the teachers and the mothers, and aunts — how did they feel with the secret blood flowing between their legs...