The Lost Hearts (10 page)

“Same as before, please.”  Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.

“Oh, Alexis.”  Marion shook her head and frowned.  “Please come in.  You’ll catch a cold out there.” 

Alexis stared
ahead, her face pulled long into a scowl, and through the roar of the downpour, heard the muffled click of the door closing shut.  Philip had inundated the house with phone calls and unexpected visits.  Each time she asked Marion to lie to his face, though they all knew she stood just feet away from the door or telephone. 

The night before, she had heard a sharp crack at her bedroom window.  Then another.  She drew the curtains and spotted Philip below, his face gathered in torment.  They had stood still for a moment, watching each other.  When she pulled back from view, he called her name, each time his voice mounting with agony.  She didn’t want to see him.  She couldn’t bear the thought of his voice.  She didn’t know how he could bother to revive a conversation that had essentially killed their history and their future together.  Her face fell, eyes squeezing
, and she clutched her stomach.  The disappointment of discovering her relationship had been a farce had weighed more heavily on her heart than she anticipated.

Shakily she picked herself up, the drenched blouse and skirt clinging immodestly to her quaking frame.  Her body and mind gasped under the crushing weight of panic and she longed for an escape.
 
Anything but this
, she thought through waves of nausea.  She found herself pulled through her home, her fingers curling around the handle of the telephone receiver.

“Hello,” a coquettish voice answered. 

“Elisabeth?  It’s Alexis.  I was wondering if you had any plans tonight.”

The headlights of the black Packard flooded the sprawling wooded lawn, and the fine mist of ebbing rain was illuminated like millions of glittering crystals.  Alexis ducked one last time before the hallway mirror and smoothed the fabric of her kelly green dress cinched seductively tight with a black velvet belt.  The fabric billowed softly with her movements as she spun to inspect herself.  She patted the voluminous waves of her hair which parted softly down the middle and fastened behind her ears with shiny black bobby pins.  Reaching for her umbrella, she wrapped the cranberry trench coat tight around her and hurried out into the dark.

The door of the Club Sedan swung open and a jet of heavily perfumed air spilled into the night.  Climbing into the stylish automobile, she found her cousin Elisabeth sandwiched by two young women Alexis had only met a few times and never particularly wished to meet again.  Alexis sniffed and noted they looked deceptively ethereal with their cream limbs flowing under fitted silver lamé gowns.

Elisabeth watched her with a peculiar gaze, as though she were confused by the situation, but highly amused.  “Alexis, you remember Samantha and Josie.”  The attractive young blondes with well-molded curls fixed around their faces nodded vacuously at Alexis.  She smiled forcibly, and she could feel the thick red lipstick stretch over her lips.  Elisabeth eyed her for a moment, her mouth pulled into a half smirk.  She clucked her tongue and cocked her chin at Alexis.  “You know, I was a little surprised to hear from you tonight.  I don’t think you’ve ever joined us for a night out on the town.”

Alexis chuckled feebly.  Elisabeth was the last person with whom she wished to have a heart to heart.  Swallowing, Alexis nodded her head.  “You’re right, and I feel like I’ve really missed out on my share of fun.  I’m not going to be single forever, you know.”

Samantha and Josie looked at each other and giggled obnoxiously.  Alexis couldn’t decide if they’d bought into her cheery facade.  She turned her head toward the window, feigning sudden interest in the passing landscape. 

“Well, we’ll show you a good time.  Won’t we ladies?”  Alexis met Elisabeth’s gaze.  She couldn’t be sure Elisabeth’s discretion was deliberate, but she bowed her head in gratitude for not pressing the subject.

“Where’s Philip?” Josie probed, her voice pinched in an affected feminine shrill. 

Samantha fanned her chest.  “He’s so good looking, you better hang onto him,” she piped in.  The pair burst into grating laughter.

Alexis rolled her eyes.  “Philip’s at home, I imagine.”

Samantha scoffed, her eyes batting with mock scandal.  “Does h
e know what you’re up to tonight?”

Elisabeth rest
ed a hand on her friend’s knee, but the subtle gesture to quiet the inane remarks rendered the effort useless.  Samantha continued, “How ever did you manage to land a man like that?”

Josie leaned forward, her beautiful face pulled into an utterly stupid grin.  “Yeah, tell us your secret.  We want to find men just like him.”

Alexis opened her mouth to respond, but the women unraveled with another fit of mindless laughter and resumed their chatter of the evening to come, the music to be heard, the men to be met.  Alexis leaned back and gazed out the window.  She had vowed to forget herself, to let go, to let herself be swept away by the current of a life she could no longer control.  And these women and this night were exactly the current that would help rip her past life to shreds.

Inside the dimly lit hall, silhouettes of men and women swayed dizzily, hands clasping cigarettes and expensive cocktails.  A portly host dressed in a snug tuxedo ushered them through the crowd to a table bordering the dance floor.  The women draped their furs over their chairs, sitting with the grace and importance of Hollywood starlets.  Alexis nervously fingered the sloping neckline of her dress while Elisabeth ordered a round of drinks.  Alexis hadn’t spent much time in dance halls, and she was surprised by the abandon with which the young couples danced, their bodies fluid and sensual. 

She observed them curiously, her forearm draped against the back of her plush, cream
-colored seat.  Moments later, a quiet young waiter appeared balancing a wide tray of cocktails.  Elisabeth offered her a glass of amber liquid.  “It’s a Sidecar.  My favorite.”  Alexis brought the drink to her nose.  She inhaled, immediately recognizing the pungent aroma of brandy.  Her mind flashed with images of her father and she blinked her eyes to expel his face from consciousness.

“Are you okay?” 
Alexis was stunned to see genuine concern in her cousin’s eyes. 

“Yes,” she mouthed silently, and Elisabeth nodded her head. 

Elisabeth lifted her glass above the dancing flame of the votive candle at the center of the table.  The three blonds exchanged excited glances, smiling loudly with their full, colored lips.  Alexis joined them and Elisabeth wiggled flirtatiously in her seat.  “To my cousin, Alexis.  Let’s make this a night she won’t forget.”

“Cheers,” they said in chorus, the glasses clinking, and Alexis closed her eyes, letting the brandy trail its warmth deep into her body. 

Three brandies later, Alexis sat drunk and engrossed by the scene.  Suddenly Elisabeth seemed like a close companion.  They leaned into each other, captivated, approving of everything the other had to say, laughing, and patting each other on the arms like old friends.  Alexis couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so freely, like adolescents who wish the world to know their enjoyment.

“And so there we are kissing on the veranda.  God, he was sensational with his mouth,” Samantha interjected for dramatic flair, “when none other than his frigid ice cube of a wife walks up.”  Josie slapped the table and exploded in staccato bursts of laughter.  “The next minute I can’t tell whose hands are whose, who’s hitting whom.  But I’ve never run so fast in my life.  Broke my favorite heels, too.” 

Alexis closed her mouth, gaping in scandalous shock, when she noticed that E
lisabeth’s own face had transformed, splitting wide into a seductive grin.  Alexis whipped around to see a tall, striking young man approach the table.  He scanned the group of enraptured women and ultimately met Alexis’ eyes.  “Hello,” he said, his smile easy and confident.  “Care to dance?” 

Alexis turned to her new friends and their eyes sparkled with teenage glee.  “Okay,” she said too loudly, and gave her hand to him.  He led her deep into the tangle of dancers, and she felt his arm slip indiscreetly around her waist.  She stared at the black lapel of his suit, breathing in the heady scent of his cologne.  By now she was dizzy and she let herself melt against his hard frame.  The brandy had seemed to open up her every pore, and she sensed his closeness with electric sensitivity.  She moaned inwardly as she felt
his arm crush her against him and his fingers stroke her hand.  

A deep velvety voice cut into her daze and she felt his lips brush close to her ear.  Her body flashed with heat.  She didn’t know what to make of this stranger’s touch, or the hot breath against her ear.  “What’s your name?”  Alexis looked into his face, still dangerously close to hers.  His soft hazel eyes glimmered mischievously.

“Alexis,” she told him. 

“My name
is Daniel, but everyone calls me Dan.” 

“
Mmmm,” was Alexis’ only reply.  Daniel pulled her closer, their bodies making a perfect seal.  She could feel his strong legs rubbing against her own, and she wondered if he noticed the feel of her breasts pressed hard against his chest.   She closed her eyes and swayed heavily in his arms.  She didn’t know herself anymore.  Her head was thick with alcohol, all traces of a tumultuous week shrunk to dull shadows in her mind. 

The passing hours vaporized indistinguishably, and Alexis couldn’t remember how many cocktails she’d toasted among the lively table, now populated by attractive young men.  Each couple seemed to abide by the rules of an artful dance of cat and mouse, and Alexis took notes.

“Alexis,” Daniel cooed into her ear again on the dance floor.  He squeezed her into near breathlessness and then suddenly pulled back, watching her smallness beneath him.  “I can’t believe you’re not taken.”

“Mmmm,” Alexis returned dreamily, still lost in a haze. 

“How is that you’re not out here with a boyfriend?” he asked, shaking his head at his good fortune.  “So let me guess,” he said, his voice catching with flirtatious arrogance.  “You must be one of these modern city girls.  What, do you work on a switchboard, or office maybe?  And you come out to these dance halls to tease all the young men?”

Alexis swallowed a bitter leaden ball.  She laughed at his stupidity, but she remembered her vow to forget herself.  She looked up at him, batted her thick lashes.  “It’s like you already know me,” she giggled. 

Daniel grinned triumphantly, lowering his face to her, and pressed his lips softly against the corner of her mouth.  A current of heat lit up her body.  He was so close.  She could feel the bowed curve of his lip slip between hers.  Her brain dissolved into mush, and she felt her eyes roll back in pleasure.

To Daniel she was whatever she wanted to be, or rather, whatever he wanted her to be.  She answered him vaguely and playfully, laughed at his jokes, and she revealed nothing of the woman which had so offended those around her.  It was liberating, the clean
-slated persona, and she reveled in the ease and fun of it.

Teetering out of the restroom into a small unlit hallway, Alexis sank against the wall to still the spinning.  The piano, horns and the sultry voice of the singer melded into a knotted hum.  Her limbs were gum, and her mind, unhinged, sprung back and forth with half-formed thoughts.  All at once she felt ill and totally free.  Moaning loudly with swirling tipsiness, she felt a large hand cup the smallness of h
er chin.  Her eyes flew open when she spotted Daniel’s imposing figure closing in against her.  She knew he was going to kiss her and she opened her mouth. 

“I like you, Alexis,” he said gruffly, his breath sewn with whisky.  His hands caressed her bare arms until they met her fingertips, a wave of goose bumps blooming in their wake.  He leaned into her again, this time pinning her hard against the wall.  He brought his hand around her head, grabbed her hair and pressed his mouth against her urgently.  He ran his tongue along her bottom
lip, sucking gently, and she moaned involuntarily.

Alexis’ eyes shot open wide and she watched Daniel kiss her hungrily. 
What the hell am I doing,
an unexpected sober voice sounded in her mind.  Alexis pulled back and his ravenous, heaving body snapped in surprise.  They stood for a moment, chests lifting and falling in short, needy gasps.  Alexis shook her head.  She had come out tonight for one reason alone.  To forget. 
You lose, Alexis,
she said to herself. 

She shot up on her tiptoes, clasped her hand around the thickness of his neck and pulled his fa
ce to hers.  Daniel let out a moan and lifted her around him. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Alexis heard herself say.

Chapter Seve
n

Alexis whimpered into the mound of a down pillow and shielded the open slits of her eyes from the harsh morning light.  Her mouth was parched and her lips peeled apart over a labored breath.  She woozily rose to survey the room.
Her eyes popped open and a thousand daggers shot from the base of her neck, splitting the crown of her head.  She looked at the bed underneath her.  A large flat mattress low to the ground.  She clutched her head as she looked around the alien room and took in the simple masculine décor of a bachelor. 
Where the hell am I,
her brained screamed.  Alexis squeezed her eyes shut, replaying the events from the previous evening. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” a deep baritone came from the doorway.  Daniel leaned against its frame.  He was nude save for white cotton briefs, and he held a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.  “I thought you could use this.”  He strode to the bedside and watched her with an affectionate smirk. 

“Oh my God,” Alexis cried in a broken rasp, completely ignoring the coffee.  

Daniel’s brow creased.  “Are you okay?” 

“I,” Alexis stuttered dumbly.  “I… what am I doing here?”

Daniel’s smile turned sheepish.  “Don’t you remember, Alexis?  We met at the dance hall last night.  And well, we hit it off, I’d say.  And then you wanted to leave, so we came here.”

The ashy phantom of stale cigarettes clung stubbornly to her hair and the wrinkled fabric of her party dress from the night before and Alexis almost gagged from the stench.  “Un huh,” she said, nodding her head, her eyes shifting frenetically as she scrambled for any details her memory could provide.  “Did we…?”

Daniel put the coffee mug on the bedside table.  “Relax,” he said, stroking the mess of curls around her face.  “I was a perfect gentleman.”

“Yes, but…” Alexis sputtered.

Daniel laughed despondently.  “Wow, you’re maki
ng me feel like you regret this.  But for the record, no, nothing happened.  You fell asleep the moment we got here.”

“Oh, thank God.” Alexis said without regard for her companion.  “I mean, I just… I wouldn’t have wanted it to happen that way,” she said, rubbing her temples now.  Her blood tempered with relief. 

Alexis steadied herself against the edge of the bed and clambered toward the only high heel that had managed to escape her feet before passing out in the bed.  Daniel watched her, confused and disappointed.  “I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

“Huh?”
Alexis returned absently.

Daniel shook his head and leaned back on the bed, the sun light catching on his muscular torso.  “I thought… well, I guess I thought you liked me.”

Alexis snatched her purse from the dresser, hardly listening.

“Are you going?” he asked her. 

“I’m afraid I must,” she replied quickly, avoiding eye contact.

“I was hoping I could see you again.  Soon,” he added hopefully.

Alexis shot him a glance and paused.  If she weren’t trying to survive the skull-splitting jabs of a hangover, she might actually appreciate this creature watching her so attentively.  He was, by all accounts, a gentleman.  It was she who’d played a game of white lies the night before, perhaps not giving him the credit he was due. 
Not all men are Harry Bates or Philip Talbot
, she thought to herself.

She returned to the bed
and sat next to him.  He fixed her squarely with his gaze, his chestnut locks falling over one eye.  She was a rumpled mess, but she looked heavenly and he wanted nothing more than to undress her and hold her in his arms.

“Daniel
,” she said slowly.  “I don’t regret last night.  But I’m afraid I can’t see you.  And I have to go now.  Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand as she stood, “for taking care of me last night.  Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

She paused a moment before his bedroom door, as though to summon the courage and will to face the world.  She lifted a hand to wave at him, and turned to walk out.  “I hope he knows what he’s got.  Whoever he is,” Daniel called after her.

Fearing she would attract Marion’s attention, she eased the front door open and tiptoed to the bathroom across the sunlit hallway, but the old hardwood floor was indifferent to her stealth, and it sneezed and groaned under her weight. 

Flipping on the light switch she beheld her ragged appearance in the oblong mirror suspended above the wash basin.  Her skin was dry and creased, her lips bloodless.  The mascara she’d applied the night before had rubbed inky shadows beneath her swollen eyes.  Old lipstick caked red in the cracks of her lips.  Alexis shook her head at her reflection, attempting to expel the spotty images of the previous night.  All of a sudden her insides churned violently and she doubled over, her body pitching, and she flew to the porcelain toilet beneath a small, open window. 

“Alexis?  Is that you?”  Marion tapped softly at the door.  “Alexis, are you okay?  I was so worried when you didn’t come home last night.”

Alexis lay her head on her forearm, resting weakly on the toilet rim, her eyes red and wet.  She gurgled pathetically, unable to formulate coherent thoughts.

“What’s that?  Alexis?”  Marion tapped
again, this time more urgently.  The doorknob jiggled and through the blurry wetness in her eyes, Alexis saw the door open.  Marion appeared above her, her expression decidedly maternal.

“Oh dear.  Alexis, are you alright?”  The gray-haired woman opened the wooden wall cabinet and retrieved a c
loth. She kneeled carefully to the tile floor, her joints creaking stiffly.  Her soft brown eyes were warm with sympathy and she gently wiped Alexis’ pallid brow.

“I was just trying to forget ev
erything,” she managed through choked sobs. 

Marion nodded her head.  “You know, Alexis.  I’ve been a part of this family for more than twenty years.  I’ve watched you grow up like I would my own daughter.”  Her voice trailed off and she looked thoughtfully at Alexis.  “I know it hasn’t been easy for you and your father.  Especially you, dear.  I’ve seen you struggle to find your place in a world that isn’t quite ready for you.”  The old woman let her fingers trace Alexis’ hairline.  “If there’s one thing I
can
tell you, it’s that you’ve never been able to forget who you are, and there couldn’t be peace in your heart if you tried.  You’re an incredibly bright, beautiful and strong woman.”

Alexis’ eyes squeezed, and her face glistened with tears.  “Strong?” she squeaked into the toilet bowl, her voice infantile and hopeless.  “I feel like I’m made of nothing.  I’ve never felt m
ore inept, weak and lost.  I’m…I’m scared, Marion.” 

Marion raised her brows knowingly.  “Of course you are, dear,” she said, patting Alexis affectionately.  “We all have our fair share of lumps.  It’s your turn for another.  You can’t expect it to feel comfortable, but I promise y
ou’re made of strong stuff.  I know it’s hard right now, but you’ll see you’re tougher than you think.  You
will
pull through.”

The aged housekeeper rose and disappeared, and moments later Alexis heard the grunts of the floorboards beneath her footsteps.  She brought a glass of cold water to Alexis’ lips and she gulped as though she’d thirsted for days.  Now Alexis sagged against the narrow space of paisley
-papered wall, her knee drawn close to her chest.  Marion opened her mouth to speak, the words hesitating and careful.  “Your father has been calling the house wanting to know how you are.”

Alexis bowed her head, a wave of hot guilt sweeping o
ver her.  She couldn’t bear to think of her father at a time like this, or rather, the fact that she had turned her back on him.

“There’s no need to feel ashamed, Alexis.  Your father understands you like no other person does.  He only wants you to be happy.” 

Alexis bit her lip.  She let her teeth press hard against her flesh, hoping the pain would distract her from the mind-numbing heartache of the gulf she now felt between Lawrence and herself.  “I don’t know what to do,” she said shakily.  “I tried to think it over after he asked me to go for him.  And every time I think of what life has become I feel like I’ve been gutted. I don’t know who I am.  What will happen to father?  And Philip?  I’ve lost him for good.  The one person who seemed to get me.  At least I thought he did.”  Alexis’ face sunk into her palms.  “And then New Guinea.  God, I feel so weak and stupid.  I’ve been given a chance to do what I’ve always said I wanted to do, what I
could
do, and I’m falling so short.”

M
arion cocked her head.  “Well, I suppose that’s a normal reaction to any situation that challenges us to be who we are,” she said matter-of-factly.  “Life has suddenly turned up an opportunity wrapped up in the worst of circumstances.  It wouldn’t be an easy decision for anyone.  Nonetheless, you have a decision to make.  Not for your father, or for Philip, or for anybody else.  Maybe that’s what makes it so difficult.  This has to be for you.”  Marion smoothed the fabric of her gray wool dress and smiled.

“I’m too old to sit like this for long.  Why don’t you wash up and I’ll make you something that’ll help settle your stomach and clear that head.”  It was as though Marion had announced there was no longer anything to lament or fear again.  And once they unfolded themselves and rose, Marion patted Alexis’ teary cheek and pulled her in a warm embrace.  It was like melting against her mother.  The edge of panic had faded for the first time and she stood humbled with gratitude for the old woman who had unburdened the brutal weight
of her humiliating weakness.  

***

The sidewalk on Spencer Street cracked and gnarled under the bicycle tires and Alexis jerked as she steered her way through the gauntlet of potholes and erupting tree roots.  It hadn’t been repaired since it was first laid, and the street and houses, matching its dismal state, split and bleached under the sun.  Phillip had always warned her against traveling through this particular neighborhood, but she never paid much attention.  She had always liked to stroll past the street games of baseball and watch the children with their sweat-soaked t-shirts shriek and cheer, caressing their leathery worn mitts with adoration.

Alexis squeezed the brakes under an elm tree and climbed down from her bike.  She pushed it past a handsome blue-eyed man who tipped hi
s hat.  The whole week prior, Alexis’ mind had been a dense storm of thoughts snarled into an incomprehensible knot.  She had felt mad, unable to focus on any given topic, her father, Philip, New Guinea, all viciously competing for a spot at the forefront of her consciousness. 

Marion had nourished her with the comfort and wisdom of a mother, and she walked intrepidly now with the strength of a mind made up.  Yet there remained one glaring uncertainty.  Philip.  Alexis knew she’d seen and heard enough by now to snub out any serious regard for their relationship.  Like a snake he had cleverly maneuvered his way into her heart, coiling himself around her, waiting to squeeze the life out of her.  And yet despite the humiliation of his hopes for her, despite the apparent theatrics of love and respect, she realized she had taken him for granted, too.  Without him, she felt homeless, an orphaned spirit with no sanctuary.  For better or worse, he had been her closest confidant.   Bitterly she felt the true grasp he held on her heart.

What use was it now, though?  He had revealed himself, and there was nothing to be done.  He’d employed the words of his family and friends to say what he really thought of her.  “A troublesome woman with silly ideas,” she quoted grumpily under her breath.  She rolled her eyes and snorted with indignation.  But those words, now impressed forever in her mind’s eye, had been spoken in the span of a few seconds.  They didn’t coincide with the many demonstrations of Philip’s support, his tenderness.  Surely it couldn’t have all been an act.  She remembered when they had started to become really serious.  Alexis was buried in books and research for her doctorate.  Philip had beamed whenever she talked about her work.

“You’re undoubtedly the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,” he’d whispered to her in the library, his eyes flashing with enchantment beneath those sooty lashes. 

“Oh, please,” she had giggled, totally engulfed by the compliment. 

“
What can I do, Alexis,” he’d asked her with a lover’s subservience, “to get you out of here quick and somewhere I can kiss those ridiculously beautiful lips?”  

Alexis remembered how hot her cheeks had flushed.  “Well, I suppose you can get these books for me while I finish taking notes.  Then we can go,” she said, slipping him a folded note with case studies and their authors. 

“Your wish is my command.” 

Alexis stopped and rubbed her eyes, the image of happiness rippling into black. 
What could have made it worth it
, she wondered.

The sun, softened by the deep of autumn, climbed lazily in the white blue sky.  Alexis cupped her hands above her brow as she pushed the bike through the throng of crosswalk traffic.  Scanning the dusky-colored stone building growing taller with each step, she read its austere sign,
Good Samaritan Hospital. 
She hesitated at its foundation, pensive. 

Her own story loomed large as the universe, an all-consuming tidal wave in which she could barely imagine its resolution.  Yet gazing up at the many windows of the hospital, so deceptively impersonal, she realized all around her were
countless stories of human suffering, joy, and the infinite gray areas in between.  As she slowly weaved her way through shuffling patients and their attentive family members, she imagined the nameless faces of heartbreaking loss, and those charged with the wonder, excitement, and trepidation of new life.  Her mind bowed under the weight of this peculiarly cruel and hopeful place.