Part 12 (1/2)
”What school?”
”I guess you'd call it 'photo-realism.' The stuff he did was uncanny. It looked so real you'd swear it was a photograph. And the illusion would maintain its integrity until you got right up close and saw his brush strokes. His secret, he said, was in thinning the paint to the right degree and using small brushes, sometimes as fine as one hair.
”Anyway, he saw me staring at one of his paintings and introduced himself. He said I looked intelligent, that I could sense the underlying truth of things. I told him he was full of s.h.i.+t.” Jenny smiled. ”He laughed, and asked me if I would pose for him. Nude, of course.
”I see the question in your eyes. Yes, I did pose for him, and it turned out to be one of the very best things he'd ever done. In a way, he'd made me look better than I did in real life. In the process, we fell in love and were married two months later, a big Catholic ceremony with all of his family in attendance. Mine were no shows, of course. You see, Jehovah's Witnesses don't believe in celebrating any holidays or special occasions, not even birthdays.
”The first month was heaven, and then things fell apart. He began seeing other women almost at once, and he didn't even try to hide it. I think he considered it his right as a man, or some such crock. The day I caught him in bed with twins I moved out. I hocked the engagement ring, which gave me enough to move to L.A. and start again. I got a job in a bank and worked my way up to Vice President. By the time I was thirty-five, I was making a good living. But I was lonely. I don't know, maybe being a workaholic was my way of avoiding the Paolos of the world, but I finally realized I was punis.h.i.+ng myself, not him. So, I decided to do something about it.”
”And what was that?” I said, more and more intrigued with her story.
”My friends set me up with blind dates. And G.o.d, were those disasters. All of them were either preening self-absorbed types who felt they were doing you a favor, or crus.h.i.+ng bores who talked ceaselessly about their careers. I also tried the video dating thing and various singles organizations. But they were the proverbial meat markets. I finally gave up, deciding to quit while I was behind. You know that old saying: You'll find what you're looking for when you stop looking for it? Well, it's true.
”I got a flyer in the mail about a poetry reading at the library. I still get goose b.u.mps when I think about this because I really feel fate took a hand, somehow. Instead of throwing it out, I read it and decided to go, as a lark. It certainly wasn't what I expected, to say the least. It turned out to be a lesbian poetry reading, and when I realized it, I waited for an opportunity to leave. And then, Nina got up to read and my whole world turned upside-down.
”I'd never been attracted to women before, at least not on a conscious level, but her poetry spoke to my heart in ways Paolo never could. After the reading, I made my way up to her, stomach all twisted up in knots. She was surrounded by all these butch types, and she was like this feminine flower, all aglow. I was so nervous I could barely speak, but when our eyes met, I knew-I just knew my search was over...and so was hers.
”You asked me why I wanted to sail on the t.i.tanic. Well, a part of the reason probably won't surprise you. On our first date we went to see a re-release of the director's cut, the one with the extra twenty minutes. We'd both loved the film ever since we'd first seen it as kids.
”My parents thought it was an abomination, of course. Anyway, you remember the line Rose says to Jack at the end when the s.h.i.+p's about to sink: 'You jump, I jump, right?' Well, that was Nina and me to a tee.
”We moved in together a few days later and spent seven beautiful years together....” Jenny's eyes welled up with tears, and I handed her my handkerchief. ”Thank you,” she said, dabbing her eyes.
I waited until she had regained her composure, then pressed on.
”So, what happened with you and Nina?”
”Not what you think. We were happy. Oh, we had our moments, fights over the usual stupid things couples argue about, and some serious things, too. Like taking me to meet her parents, you know.”
I nodded, rea.s.suring.
”Nina was a wonderful person, but so d.a.m.ned insecure. One thing she always said was that she never wanted to live without me. I was touched by that, at first, but it got to be a little weird, too. And then, last year, it all came cras.h.i.+ng down. That was when I was diagnosed with with low-grade lymphoma. Nina went off the deep end, started talking about a suicide pact. She even bought these pills from some survivalist wacko, said they were cyanide, and kept them locked in her jewelry case.
”Well, I forgot about them, didn't really believe her, anyway. Besides, I was fighting for my life. I wanted to live. I went through the chemo and the radiation and, except for a few glitches, I was in remission. But, for Nina the eternal pessimist, remission wasn't enough.”
Jenny hesitated, her eyes flooding with tears.
”I found her in the apartment on a lazy Friday afternoon a little over a year ago. She was supposed to meet me at our favorite little bistro. I'd waited for over an hour before my alarm bells compelled me to go home. She was lying on the bed, perfectly composed, the note lying next to her head. My vision was so blurred with tears and my hands shook so much I could barely read it. It said: 'I couldn't wait any longer, lover. I jump, you jump, right? See you soon.' That was it! See you soon. As if we were due to have lunch next week. Oh, G.o.d!”
Jenny broke down at that point and I took her in my arms and held her while she sobbed against me. And I'm not ashamed to say I cried, too. Her story touched the very core of me. After five minutes, she calmed down and pulled away.
”I'm okay,” she said, wiping her eyes.
”One thing I want to know,” I said. ”And I'm sorry if this comes off sounding callous and cold: but did she leave a pill for you?”
”Yes. It was right next to her on the bed resting on a little satin pillow, like something out of a dainty magazine ad.”
”What did you do with it?”
”I still have it, though I don't think I could ever use it. Not that I'm afraid, you understand, it's just that every time I look at it, I see her lying there, the tiniest of smiles on her face. I wanted her to live with me, dammit! Instead, she chose to abandon me.”
”And you can't forgive her for that?”
”I can, and I have,” she said, meeting my gaze. ”I just can't forgive myself.”
”For what?”
”For not seeing she didn't have the strength to fight the disease with me or believe I'd beaten it. It's ironic, isn't it? I get sick and she dies.” Jenny fell silent for a moment. ”Can we stop now? I'm feeling a bit scattered.”
”Sure, no problem. You've been very kind to speak with me.”
”Am I going to be in your book?”
”Only if you want to be.”
”I do.” Jenny nodded, her expression one of firm resolve. ”Maybe I can help someone else. I mean, there might be an afterlife, and I'd like to think I'll see Nina again, but a part of me resists that. I guess I'm still rebelling against my parents, huh? Anyway, if I could tell the world one thing it would be to enjoy what you've got before it slips away and all you're left with are your regrets....”
11.
After I was sure she would be all right, I left Jenny on the Boat Deck, and proceeded to the Marconi Room. Sammy was on duty, and he smiled and waved to me with one hand, while the other busily scribbled the translation of an incoming message. A few minutes later, he put down his pencil ripped the message off his pad and placed it into his ”out” box, then tore off his headphones with a sigh.
”b.l.o.o.d.y long one that,” he said, rubbing his ears, fiery red from having to wear the headset for hours at a stretch.
”Anything good?” My question was meant to be facetious; Sammy took it at face value.
”Someone's idea of a joke, sending me an ice warning from the b.l.o.o.d.y Baltic. Aside from the fact that particular s.h.i.+p hasn't existed for ninety years, icebergs are a lot fewer and farther between than they used to be. Talk was last year they were even going to disband the I.I.P.”
He was talking about the International Ice Patrol, organized by England and the United States in the wake of the t.i.tanic disaster.
”Of course it's all satellite-based now, so there's not much else to do but look at a bloomin' computer screen.” He then shook his head and shrugged. ”Anyway, I suppose you've got another one of your dispatches?”
”If it's not too much trouble.”
”No trouble at all, mate. It'll be right enjoyable compared to what I've been doing. Have a seat.”
I'd culled some of what was now the book's first chapter and I dictated it to Sammy. I watched his face as he keyed the words, and his normally placid expression became animated. When we finished, he turned to me.
”That from your book?”
I nodded, putting away my notes. ”Part of the first chapter.”
”Well, if the rest of it's as good as that, you'll have a right best-seller.”
”Thanks. I'll send you an autographed copy.”
”You don't have to do that,” he said, suddenly distracted.