Illusions of Love (17 page)

In fact, more than he’d ever missed anyone. Back in his apartment, he

sat staring out into the dark.

You can’t pretend any longer, he thought. Face it. Jenny’s gotten under your skin and you know now it’s much more than infatuation.

You’ve fallen in love with her. Now where do you go from here? You can’t possibly take her home to meet your family. Nothing makes one goddamn bit of sense, because you can’t have her and have your family too.

He reached for the phone and called Dominic.

“It’s me, Dom. Jesus, I’m glad you’re home.”

“What’s up, old buddy?”

“Are you doing anything now?”

“What did you have in mind? A gin game, billiards, a broad?”

“I’ve really got to talk to you, Dom.”

“Okay, give me an hour. Meet me at eight-thirty at Harry’s Bar.”

By the time Dominic arrived, around nine-thirty, Martin had already gotten down to some very serious drinking.

“What the hell took you so long?” he asked as Dominic slid into the booth.

“Well, I had a few little loose ends to tidy up. Don’t get nervous, everything will be all right. Okay, old buddy, I’m buying.” Looking at the waiter he said; “Irish whiskey and a scotch and soda.”

As the two men picked up their glasses, Dominic asked, “Okay?”

“I’ve got a problem.”

In spite of the pain in Martin’s eyes, Dominic tried to keep it light.

“If it’s about Jenny, she’s only going to be gone for the weekend.”

Martin took a long swallow of scotch.

“That’s not my problem.”

“What then?”

“I’m in love with Jenny.”

Dominic nodded.

“That is a problem.”

“I don’t know what to do about it, Dom. When I thought it was only physical, it was okay, but I know it’s much more than that. And the

trouble is she loves me too. I don’t want to hurt her and yet I can’t ever marry her. What should I do, Dominic?”

This time Dominic looked upset. He felt responsible for having brought them together.

“It’s never easy when you love someone, but it’s just as easy to drown in three feet of water as it is in ten. Break it off now. Jesus, I’m really sorry about this, Martin.”

“So am I, because, dammit, I can’t tell you how much knowing her has meant to me. I just don’t know how to tell her.”

It was after one when Martin got home. He woke the next morning with a hangover, but spent the day visiting the places they had seen the weekend before. Finally he gave up and went home. He picked up Chinese food on the way, but remembering the dinner he and Jenny had shared, found he had no appetite. He took the cartons out to the incinerator and threw them down the chute, went back into the living room, and poured himself a stiff drink. Goddammit, it was going to be tough to let Jenny go. He tossed back the drink and poured another. Well, booze helped. Didn’t have to think, didn’t have to feel. With a half-empty bottle at his side, he passed out on the living room sofa.

He didn’t awaken until early Sunday afternoon. His head felt like a balloon, and every muscle in his body ached. He’d never really gotten drunk before.

When he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he saw he looked as bad as he felt. I’d better pull myself together, he thought, opening the medicine chest and reaching for a bottle ofeyedrops. He had to drive out to the airport and pick Jenny up at six-thirty.

He made himself a mug of coffee, brought it into the living room, and sat down. The room was a mess. There was a large, wet stain on the rug where his glass had fallen. It must have dropped out of his hand when he passed out. The ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts. A wonder he hadn’t set the place on fire. Well, one shouldn’t smoke when one’s drunk and one mustn’t fall in love with a girl who isn’t the right religion.

As he drove to the airport he rehearsed ways of telling her they should break up. But the very thought almost destroyed him. Maybe they could stay together for a while. He would take care of her, give her everything she needed, look after her in every way but one. According to her religion he would endanger her immortal soul, because he could not offer her marriage. No, it was impossible. Better that they end it before they were more deeply hurt. One day he would eventually marry and have children and so would Jenny. Yet, when he saw her walking down the steps from the plane, he wondered how he would summon the courage to tell her. Losing Jenny would break his heart.

As they drove into the city, Jenny sensed something was wrong, terribly wrong, but she was afraid to ask questions. As soon as they reached his apartment Martin went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of champagne. When he came back to the living room, he found Jenny emptying the ashtrays. She smiled at him.

“The one virtue you don’t have, Martin, is neatness.”

He looked at her.

“I know. But it’s only one of my minor vices.”

The sound of his voice was strangely foreboding. Picking up the newspapers, she said quietly, I think I will have some champagne. ” He handed her the glass and sat across from her.

“Did you miss me, Martin?” she asked.

“Terribly. I never felt anything like it before.”

For a moment she was confused.

“And yet you didn’t seem very happy to see me. What’s bothering you, Martin?”

He looked at her, hating himself for what he was about to say.

“Jenny, I don’t quite know how to put this, and God only knows I don’t want to hurt you. I was wrong when I said I thought things would work out.

I’ve fallen in love with you and that’s what makes the difference. I want to marry you and I can’t. The end of our story was written three thousand years ago in Jerusalem. I’m a Jew and nothing will ever

change that. I can’t change my religion or give up my family. If we stay together you’ll learn to hate me. “

Jenny sat in a state of shock. When she left on Friday, Martin had given no indication that he was going to break off with her.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Jenny just “What happened between the time I left and now?”

“I found myself missing you far too much. I realize how involved we we Become. Believe me, this may seem cruel, but one day you’ll ” Thank you? ” she cried.

“You’re a hypocrite, Martin. It was fine when I told you I loved you even though it was a sin according to my God.

But when you realized you had the same feelings for me, you weren’t so eager to have that loving relationship. What you’re really saying is that as long as you didn’t love me, you didn’t mind sleeping with me.

I hate you! ” she screamed. Jenny grabbed her coat and ran out of the apartment.

Her words left Martin frozen. By the time he pulled himself together and went to the elevator. Jenny was gone. He hoped he’d find her waiting for a taxi, but when he opened the door, she was nowhere in sight. He ran a few blocks and then hailed a cab. It was almost ten o’clock by the time he arrived at Jenny’s apartment. He ran up the stairs and rang the bell. When there was no answer, he knocked and spoke through the closed door.

“Jenny, please open up. Please, I have to talk to you.” She didn’t answer, but after he shouted a few more times the landlady came out of her apartment and protested.

“You can’t come barging in here banging on doors. Who do you think you are?”

Martin interrupted her.

“I don’t think Miss McCoy’s well. Would you be kind enough to open the door?” The landlady refused until Martin took ten dollars from his wallet. Then she reconsidered. She went in with Martin and waited, but it took very little time to realize Jenny hadn’t been home. Beside himself with worry, he went home and began telephoning her apartment every ten minutes. By

three o’clock in the morning, still with no answer, he was frantic.

She probably wanted to avoid him, knowing he might follow her home.

But where else could she have gone? If she had called Dominic she would have discovered that he was away until the next day. Could she have gone to a hotel? Fearfully he looked through the directory and called the most likely possibilities. The answers at the Plaza, the St. Regis and the Waldorf were all the same. No Jennifer McCoy registered.

He could have tried more, but what was the use? New York had a million hotels. He sat on the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Why had he ever thought it would be easier breaking up with Jenny now than later? He couldn’t stop worrying. It was freezing cold outside. Maybe she was hurt.

There were only two places left to call: the police or the hospitals.

When he was told no Jenny McCoy had been found, he became even more frightened. Savagely, he grabbed the phone and called Jenny’s landlady. When she told him Jenny still hadn’t returned, he grabbed his coat and ran from the room.

After leaving Martin, Jenny had run for blocks on the icy pavement, oblivious to the blinding tears and the cold that penetrated her coat and her thin pumps. The night air was bitterly cold, but she hardly noticed. She only wanted to run away from the apartment, Martin, and her emotions. Finally, exhausted, she huddled in a doorway, leaning against the wall, fighting for breath. Then she slid down and sat on the damp concrete.

Now there were no more tears, only the numbing realization that it was over. She had blinded herself with the hope that one day he would want her so badly that he would give up his religion, a faith that seemed to serve no spiritual purpose in his life. He said he rarely went to temple and was surprised when she said she attended church every week.

Yet she was prepared to risk excommunication to be with Martin. Her

religion meant so much to her, but she was willing to leave the Church if only they could marry. It was, she felt, the only way she could justify her affair with Martin. But in her heart hadn’t she always known it would end this way? In fact, she was more to blame than he. Wanting him so much, she had refused to face reality.

Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out the world. The cold had made her drowsy. Sleep. Maybe she could sleep forever.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she was wakened by a pair of hungry dogs trying to nuzzle past her to some garbage cans.

Unsteadily, she got up and walked along the empty streets, barely able to lift her arm to flag a taxi. She remembered little of the ride home or how she got up to her room.

She crawled under the covers, shivering with cold. She could not get warm. In a little while she lost consciousness.

Hours later, when Jenny opened her eyes, everything was white was she still indoors? She had no idea where she was, and didn’t care. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep.

She heard a voice her father’s, no, her father had abandoned her . as Martin had. The voice persisted; it couldn’t be Martin. He existed now only in her memory. She closed out his image and fell into deep sleep.

Martin walked back to the hospital waiting room where he and Dominic had spent most of the last two days. Looking at his ravaged face, Dominic wished he knew how to help his friend. But he hadn’t been able to reach Martin, not since Martin had burst into his apartment early Monday morning, beside himself with fear and grief.

For the first time since their days at Yale, Dominic’s sense of protectiveness was aroused as his friend described his wretched quarrel with Jenny. Despite all the material things Martin’s parents had showered on him, they had left him singularly ill-equipped to handle the ugliness of everyday living.

“Let me fix you some hot coffee,” was all Dominic said.

As Martin accepted the cup his hand shook.

“What do

you think happened to her? “

“I wish to God I knew. I feel so damn helpless,” Martin said.

“I

walked the streets knowing I’d never find her. Finally I called the Police. I don’t know what to do now. “

“Well, we’ll keep trying. We’ll call Mrs. Bloomer every hour.”

Martin wasn’t listening. He stared up at the ceiling.

“I’m a fool.

She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I sent her away.

“

“Well, at least now you recognize the depth of your feelings. That should mean something.”

“How can it when for all I know I may never see her again?”

They sat in silence. Dominic occasionally tried to get his friend to eat, but without success. Every hour one of them would dial Jenny’s landlady but there was no answer.

Dominic took the day off from work and told Martin to do the same.

Finally, at four-thirty in the afternoon, Mrs. Bloomer said she’d heard Jenny come in.

When they reached her room they found her un conscious. Martin sat on the edge of the bed and held her cold hands while Dominic called an ambulance.

In the two days that followed, Martin had refused to leave the hospital. Jenny didn’t regain consciousness until Wednesday. She was out of the oxygen tent and her vital signs had improved.

When a nurse came to the waiting room to tell Martin the good news, he insisted Dominic be the first to see her.

“Tell her I’m sorry. Beg her to see me,” Martin said, urging his friend out the door.

“Thank you for coming. How did you know where I was?” Jenny asked when she saw Dominic’s face.

“Because I’m a super sleuth. Why are you thanking me? That’s what friends are for.”

With tears in her eyes, she said, “I love you, Dominic.”

“And I love you, baby. The doctor says you’re coming along great. Be

as good as new in a few days,” Dominic hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt.

“How long have I been here?”

“Three days.”

“I guess I just fell apart. When Martin … when Martin said … Oh, Dominic, I guess I’m not very good at facing life. Do you think I’ll ever grow up?”

“Of course you will. But now let me do the talking. You haven’t lost Martin. He was the one who found you. He rode in the ambulance with you and hasn’t left the hospital since. Look, you know I’m the world’s greatest cynic, but Martin is head over heels in love with you.”

She looked at him for a long moment.

“When you love someone, you don’t try and send them away. Even for their own good.”