Alexandra Waring (61 page)

“I mean, what kind of errands?” Langley said. “What is it that you have to get that can’t wait until Monday?”

Belinda looked at him. “Is there something you would like me to do, Langley?” She blinked.
“Dear.”

“Are you going to the pharmacy?” Langley said.

“I might,” she said.

“Which one?” he asked her.

“Why, what is it that you want?” she said.

Langley leaned forward. “It’s not what I want—it’s what you want, Belinda. What is it that you have to get that’s so important?”

Belinda looked at Cordelia. “You’ve been here since I got home. Have I done anything to deserve to be spoken to like this?”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” Cordelia said quickly, sipping her coffee.

“I just want to know why it’s so important you do errands today,” Langley said. “Why everybody else are doing things together and you want to go off by yourself and do errands at the pharmacy.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested,” Belinda said, sounding very annoyed now.

“I’m interested,” he told her.

Belinda hesitated and then said, “And what is it you wish me to do instead, Langley?”

“You could come to West End with your father and me,” he said.

“Go to the office with you and Daddy,” Belinda said. “Thank you very much,” she said, patting her mouth with her napkin, pushing back her chair and standing up, “but I have no desire to sit by myself in a chair in your office listening to the two of you talk about God knows what that I couldn’t understand and would bore me to death if I did.”

“I don’t want you spending the day alone,” Langley said.

“Pardon me? Come again, mister?” Belinda said, squinting down the table at him, swinging her weight to one side and plunking her hand down on her hip. “And just how many years has it been since you’ve given a god-dam about what I do? How many years has it been since you’ve cared about how much time I spend alone?
Huh?
”

it, Belinda,” Langley said. “But you made it your business not to be around to feel it.”

Jackson and Cordelia were looking down the table during this exchange; Big El was looking back and forth between Belinda and Langley, following it like a tennis match.

“Well, I apologize,” Belinda said, “but y’all will have to excuse me because I have no intention of staying here and arguing with this man.” She moved away, whirling around in the archway to the hall to add, “My husband left for work one morning and I haven’t seen head or tail of him since—not for years! So tell that stranger down at the end of the table to mind his own business and leave me alone!”

“Belinda,” Langley said, jumping up.

She was gone.

“Excuse me,” Langley said, throwing his napkin down on the table and going after her.

“Oh, lordie,” Cordelia sighed when they heard them arguing down the hall. “Somehow I knew this was not going to be a good idea. If something happens to her this weekend I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I’ve never seen ‘em fight before,” Big El said. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson said.

“You have no right to interfere in my life—none!” they heard Belinda shriek. “You just stay out of it!” A door slammed.

“If I find out it’s been him driving poor Baby B nuts all these years, I’ll kill the son of a bitch,” Big El said, as they heard the Peter sons yelling at each other somewhere in the back of the apartment.

“Daddy,” Jackson said, “that’s Langley we’re talking about.”

“Yeah, well, he better straighten up and fly right or his big chance may just pass him by,” Big El said, looking at Cordelia.

Jackson looked at Cordelia. “Chance for what?”

“Oh, Daddy’s just talking,” Cordelia said, reaching for her coffee.

Jackson was surprised at how low key, uneventful and pleasant the evening at West End was turning out to be—considering that Langley and Belinda were not talking to each other (as nor were many other combinations of his relatives). And Langley refused to discuss the matter with Jackson, saying that it was a private matter between him and Belinda. And so Jackson left it alone, particularly since Belinda seemed fine this evening—in fact, in very good spirits.

They were
all
in amazingly good spirits, actually, thanks in large part to the whiz—bang tour of DBS Cassy had planned. The big hit—which had turned the evening into an instant success—was her idea to have the members of the board “sit in” for the regular DBS News on-air talent in a mini mock newscast. Cordelia “sat in” for Alexandra as the anchor; Noreen covered arts and entertainment; Norbert, politics; Little El, business; Belinda, health and education; Beau, sports; Jackson, the weather; and Big El did a special family reunion commentary. They shot it on tape as each read his or her part off the TelePrompTer (with some coaching by the regular on-air staff, and Jessica pinch-hitting for Alexandra as a coach for Cordelia); and then shot everyone else at the reunion on tape too in the context of a made—up story, all of which was then edited into a “newscast,” a copy of which each guest would take home as a souvenir.

And Jackson didn’t know what had gotten into Jessica, but she was absolutely wonderful with his family. Even Cordelia, who thought Jessica’s show was “half disgrace and half an outrage—but interesting, I must admit,” said she thought Jessica was enchanting. And she was.

And if Jackson had ever doubted that Jessica had had a drinking problem, then he never would again after tonight, because the change in her, physically and emotionally, had never been so evident. She had very little makeup on and was in a very conservative outfit, but she had never been so pretty and eye—catching. She was
radiant
—there was no other way to describe it. Her skin was aglow, her eyes bright, her whole face looked thinner, different, younger. And while she had been very nervous in the beginning, when his family first arrived—drinking fruit juice like it was going out of style—she soon settled in as hostess (fairy princess hostess?), her laughter ringing free and easy through the complex. That hard, cynical edge was nowhere to be found, though she was as sarcastic and funny as ever.

(“Oh, I lost my accent years ago,” Belinda had said, stepping into the elevator with Jessica to ride down with Jackson, Cordelia, Big El and Little El to the studio.

“Say eck-oh-nom-mics,” Jessica had said.

“Eeekanomics,” Belinda said.

“And the capital of Vietnam, H-Ha-noy?” Jessica said.

“Hanoy,” Belinda said, starting to smile.

“And the city in Connecticut, N-e-w H-a-v-e-n?”

“New Haven,” Belinda said, as everyone in the elevator started to laugh.

“And I don’t suppose Reno is in the state of Ne-vah-dah, is it?” Jessica said.

“Nevaaads,” Belinda said, laughing with everyone else.

“Oh, you’re right,” Jessica said, slinging her arm through Belinda’s and escorting her off the elevator, “you’ve lost your accent completely. No one would know you’re from the South. Not in a million years.”)

“I can’t get over Jessica,” Jackson said, watching her down in the square. He was standing with Cassy and Langley on the roof of Darenbrook III, just under one of the satellite dishes, where they had come up for a breather.

“It is wonderful to watch, isn’t it?” Cassy said. “It’s like seeing a whole new person come alive.”

The three of them stood there a minute, watching. The walkways below were lined with torches, the river breezes making them cast an exotic, flickering light over the square. Tables for dining were set up along Darenbrook I and III, and the grills and tables of food and drink were set up along the line of fir trees at the end. Jackson’s family, the on—air staff of DBS News and most of the DBS production staff were fanned out everywhere over the square, and some were milling around inside Darenbrook III, in empty offices on the first floor given over to the occasion. But all three sets of eyes on the roof were on the table where Jessica was eating dinner with Cordelia, Big El and Belinda.

“Alexandra asked me to keep an eye on her,” Langley said. “She thought Jessica might feel more at ease if she knew I was around and willing to run interference for her in case any of our relatives picked on her.” He laughed. “I’ll have to tell her that Jessica ran interference for us.”

“When did you talk to Alexandra?” Cassy asked him.

“Today,” Langley said. “She called this afternoon.”

Cassy frowned. “How come everybody seems to be talking to Alexandra these days but me?”

“Doesn’t like you anymore, I guess,” Jackson said, smiling.

“She was in some phone booth in Kansas,” Langley said. “She said she was hiding from her mother, who couldn’t decide what kind of wedding cake to have and was making her taste all of them.”

They laughed.

“Oh, good,” Cassy said, smiling back down on the square, “I’m glad she’s getting things squared away for her wedding. Take her mind off other things this weekend.”

Jackson shook his head, smiling. “Our little Alexandra. Getting married.”

Langley looked at him. “Our little Alexandra?” He pushed off the wall, heading for the stairway door. “Boy, have things changed around here,” he said over his shoulder. “Must be something in the water.”

Cassy laughed, bowing her head.

“Must be,” Jackson said.

After spending all day with his family, something very peculiar happened to Jackson at eleven o’clock that night.

He was standing by one of the grills, listening to Poor Luanne and Kirky reminisce about visiting Richmond—about how their aunt Barbara would lock up the TV and make them run around the house ten times before she would feed them—when he looked across the square and saw Cordelia talking to Cassy. The two women were standing face to face, in the torchlight, talking away, and Cassy said something that made Cordelia laugh. And then Cassy touched Cordelia’s arm, saying something further, which made Cordelia laugh harder, and when Jackson saw this he felt something fall down inside of him, something that made him feel very scared suddenly, anxious. Afraid.

Poor Luanne touched Jackson’s arm, asking him if he was all right, while Kirky took the glass out of his hand and looked back over his shoulder to see what his uncle was looking at. Turning around, he said, “Jesus, Uncle Jack, you’re not having a heart attack or something, are you?”

“No,” Jackson managed to say, trying to focus on Kirky but finding it very hard. “I’m fine,” he said, looking back at Cassy. “You kids have fun.” And then he started across the square.

He was having a hard time negotiating the walkway because he felt so strange. It was as if his ballast was suddenly gone and he was starting to float off somewhere. As if he was floating—no, no, now it was more like something was pulling him
down
, down somewhere inside of himself, some sickly, dark, horrible place he remembered, or he thought he remembered, or remembered well enough to feel terrified of going there.

Cordelia and Cassy were looking at him now and he went right up to them and asked Cordie to excuse them, grabbed Cassy’s arm and rudely pulled her off through the people toward Darenbrook I. They barely got inside the door—barely got the door closed behind them—before Jackson threw his arms around Cassy and dropped his head down on her shoulder—and started to sob.

Jackson sobbed and sobbed, his great shoulders heaving, standing there in the lobby, clinging to Cassy, and he couldn’t stop sobbing and for the life of him he didn’t know why.

All he knew was that he could not live without her.

45
Alexandra’s Dinner with Lisa Connors
Part I

“I’m just so grateful to you for flying in tonight,” Alexandra said, touching the bridge of her nose. She brought her hand back down to the table. “I needed to talk to somebody and”—she shrugged—”I’m just glad to see you. Really. Thank you. I, um, have a lot on my mind. I needed to see a friend. Needed to talk to somebody.”

Alexandra lowered her eyes to the table then and left them there for a long while. Then she cleared her throat and reached for her water glass, raising her eyes across the table again. “The stress has been something,” she admitted, pausing to sip her water, “but we’re in great shape now.” She lowered her glass to the table. “This board meeting that’s going on tonight is—um, well—never mind.” She paused, dropping her eyes again. “Anyway, I thought I would have heard from Cassy by now about what happened. But I did leave the number here for her so she could call.” She raised her eyes again, tentatively smiling at her friend across the table. “I’m sorry,” she said, “you didn’t come all this way to hear about board meetings.”

No response.

Alexandra cleared her throat again. Her face was a little red. “Lisa?” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Are you there?”

Lisa was smiling, resting her chin in her hand, gazing at her from across the table. “Oh, I’m here, Alexandra,” she said in a low voice, “am I ever here.”

“Good,” Alexandra said, swallowing and looking around. “We wouldn’t want you to be bored.”

“Bored? Looking at you?” Lisa said.

Alexandra made a little sound in her throat, eyes widening slightly.

Lisa’s smile expanded. “What’s the matter, Alexandra? You used to like it when I watched you.”

“Uh-oh,” Alexandra said, looking at her water glass. She picked it up. “She lied to us,” she told it. “She’s not going to behave at all. Not at all.”

Lisa fell back in her chair laughing—a low, throaty, pleasant laugh carrying about a thousand innuendos.

Lisa Connors was thirty-seven, a blond, deeply tanned woman with very white teeth. She was wearing a white sleeveless dress as well. She was not the kind of woman who needed an Alexandra Waring around to draw attention. They were sitting in the back room of the Bristol Bar and Grill, with its Victorian architecture, modern art and leaded glass Tiffany dome overhead. And while Alexandra was tucked away discreetly around to the right of the stairs, Lisa, on the other side of the table, was in plain view and—judging by the reaction of the other diners—wasn’t considered a plain view at all. But Lisa Connors seemed quite accustomed to this kind of attention; in fact, she seemed unaware of it. Her attention was focused entirely on Alexandra.

“It’s just that you should have warned me,” Lisa said, picking up her wineglass and bringing it up to near her mouth, adding, “I’d forgotten what you’re like. In person.” Eyes on Alexandra, she took a sip of wine, swallowed and then put the glass down. She sighed, smiling. “Poor Matt. It could take me weeks to get over this. I’ll be impossible.” Then she turned to look at the man and woman sitting at a nearby table and then turned back to Alexandra, shaking her head. “But honestly, Alexandra—bodyguards?”

“I told you,” Alexandra said, “I have to have them on the tour and tonight I’m back on tour.”

“But you must be awfully scared of me,” Lisa said, smiling, picking up her wineglass again and sitting back in her chair. “He must be fifteen feet tall, that guy.”

“I’m not scared of you in the least,” Alexandra told her.

Lisa was rubbing the rim of the wineglass against her lower lip. After watching Alexandra watch her do it for a while, she stopped, lowered the glass and smiled. “That’s how I knew, you know.” She leaned forward, holding her wineglass in her hands on the table in front of her. “When you told me that night—when we first knew each other—that you were a little afraid of me and didn’t know why.” Eyes still on Alexandra, she took a sip of wine and swallowed. “That’s when I knew it was going to happen. Between us. I knew it as soon as you said that.”

Alexandra lowered her eyes to the table, her face flushing scarlet.

“Why don’t you want to tell me?” Lisa said.

“Because it’s none of your business what Gordon and I do in bed,” Alexandra told her, sounding exasperated, finally getting a piece of fish into her mouth.

“But if you don’t like sex with him—”

Alexandra struggled to swallow before speaking. “That’s not what I said—that’s not it, Lisa.” She dropped her fork. “Just forget it—I just can’t talk about this.” She sighed, shaking her head. Then she looked at Lisa. “I don’t mean to bite your head off. It’s just that our sex life is fine—
would
be fine if my head were fine. Which it isn’t. The problem is not him. He’s a very wonderful person. And he’s a very sexy man.” She paused, picking up her fork and dangling it for a moment. “And sometime,” she said, looking at her plate, “in the course of this dinner, I’m going to work myself up to what I wanted to talk about—what I need to talk about.”

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Lisa said.

“Because I can’t,” Alexandra said. “I need time to work up to it.”

“Take all the time you need,” Lisa said, resuming eating her salad.

After a couple of minutes, eating her fish, Alexandra looked across the table. “Oh, Lisa,” she said, “please, do anything but be quiet. Now I’ve gotten you depressed.”

“Who, me?” she said, swallowing. “I’m not depressed. I’m behaving.”

“Well then, don’t behave,” Alexandra said. “I can’t stand this. Do something—say something.”

“Anything?” Lisa said, eyes taking on a very different light.

Alexandra looked at her for a moment, shaking her head, smiling. “Oh, Lisa,” she said, sighing a little, picking up her fork.

Lisa leaned forward. “Admit it, Waring,” she whispered, “you love being flirted with, you always did.”

Alexandra leaned over her plate to whisper back, “I told you you’re supposed to try and help me with a problem, not try and start a new one by making eyes at me.”

“Oh, right,” Lisa said, slapping the table with her hand. “Listen to her.” She leaned over the table and whispered, “You, the woman who
invented
orgasm by eye contact. Why do you think people watch you on TV anyway?”

“Lisa!” Alexandra said, dropping her fork.

“And what does Jessica call you? Alexandra Eyes?” Lisa turned to the wall. “Oh, but she’s already told us all about
that
, hasn’t she?”

“She’s just staying in my apartment until she gets her head together,” Alexandra said. “I told you. While I’m on tour.”

“And since when does anyone stay with you who isn’t sleeping with you?” Lisa asked her.

“Since Jessica and I became friends,” Alexandra said.

“Could this be true?” Lisa asked the wall.

“It’s true,” Alexandra said. A moment later, “So. I don’t make friends easily.”

“A word of advice,” Lisa said, pointing a finger at her. “Don’t ever tell your ten million friends that you don’t make friends easily, or else they might catch on that they don’t even know you.”

They looked at each other for a moment, smiling.

“
I
was attracted to Jessica,” Lisa said then.

“I thought so,” Alexandra said. “The way she described meeting you —I thought your inspired interest in her seemed vaguely familiar.”

Lisa laughed. “But let me tell you, Alexandra, either that girl was deaf, dumb and blind, or she was the best actress I ever saw—because she did not get it.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t—”

“Oh, I haven’t done anyting with anyone,” Lisa said quickly. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.” She shrugged. “And I don’t know, since she was married too, I thought, I guess, maybe it wouldn’t count.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what I thought. But I was pretty upset around then.” She looked at Alexandra. “It was after I found out about Matt’s little friend.”

Alexandra nodded and then said, “Do you love him?”

Lisa sighed, thinking a moment. “I’d love him more if I could get pregnant,” she said.

“If you hadn’t slept with me,” Lisa said over coffee, “then you never would have known about that side of yourself. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“I would have known,” Alexandra said, “but I never would have acted on it. And had I never acted on it—”

“You would have married that jerk,” Lisa said, shuddering.

“He was not a jerk,” Alexandra said. She smiled. “Why does everybody always say such awful things about poor Tyler?”

Because he was awful!” Lisa cried. “You were the only one who liked him, Alexandra.”

“That’s not true,” Alexandra said.

“It is true,” Lisa insisted. She paused and then leaned forward. “And if he wasn’t so wrong for you, then why were you so terribly lonely when I met you?”

Alexandra lowered her eyes, stirring her coffee.

“And you were so terribly lonely when I met you,” Lisa said softly. “I saw it right away, in your eyes, the night I met you.” She paused, smiling. “Do you remember?”

Alexandra nodded, putting her spoon down on her saucer.

“And remember how much we liked each other—right away?” Lisa said, eyes growing brighter. “Oh, Alexandra,” she murmured, shaking her head, “do you remember how exciting it was? And it was! Remember how I kept calling you, running around after you? At the station? At all those parties? God, was that fun!”

Alexandra was smiling now, touching the bridge of her nose with her hand, shaking her head. She dropped her hand, looking at Lisa. “And Tyler couldn’t figure out what was going on.” She smiled wryly. “And neither could I—for a while. Every time we went out, you just appeared out of nowhere. And then at the governor’s ball—” She snapped her fingers, laughing. “That red dress—I thought,
What is this, a Bette Davis movie? What is this woman doing?
”

They both laughed.

“I wanted you to notice me,” Lisa said.

“And then you showed up at the ceremony when Tyler got that thing from the Chamber of Commerce,” Alexandra said, laughing. “Oh, brother,” she said, covering her face, “when I think of it now. “

“I know,” Lisa said.

Alexandra dropped her hands suddenly. “And I can remember Tyler saying to me, ‘Doesn’t she live in Denver? What’s she doing here? Doesn’t she ever go home?’ And I kept saying, ‘I don’t know! I don’t know!’ “

They both cracked up. And then Lisa sat forward, looking across the table into Alexandra’s eyes. “But you did know. By then, you knew.”

Alexandra was still smiling, but her forehead had furrowed slightly. “Yes,” she finally said, “I did. But I never thought I’d ever actually
…
” She sighed, her eyes drifting down to Lisa’s mouth for a moment. Then she looked away.

“Do you remember what you said that night?” Lisa asked her.

Alexandra looked at her. She nodded. Then she smiled again. “I said I was so tired of being good I couldn’t stand it.”

“And I said,” Lisa said,
“
‘So don’t be!’ And you drank your glass of champagne straight down, I remember. And then you had another, and another—”

“And another,” Alexandra joined her in saying.

“And then you asked me to please take you somewhere,” Lisa said. Her eyes widened in delight.
“
‘Anywhere!’ you said.”

“Oh, no,” Alexandra said, wincing, covering her face with her hand. “And we even stole Tyler’s car, didn’t we?”

“Oh, but was it great,” Lisa said, watching her. She waited for Alexandra to lower her hand before continuing. “For once you didn’t care about that damn job of yours, about Tyler, your family—anything. You just wanted
…
” She let her voice trail off.

Alexandra was nodding, looking down at the table now. In a moment she said, “And I’ll never forget sitting on that couch with you. Just sitting there, not doing anything, not even talking.”

“Hmmm,” Lisa said, nodding. After a moment, “And do you remember what I said?”

Alexandra nodded.

Lisa smiled and whispered,
“
‘I’m scared to do what 1 want to do.
’
”

Alexandra looked up. Her eyes looked a little sad.

“And you said,” Lisa said quietly, dropping her voice to a whisper again,
“
‘You can do whatever you want.’ “ She paused, running her tongue over her lower lip once. “The six sexiest words I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Alexandra swallowed. “And you did, too,” she managed to say. “Do what you wanted. As I recall.”

“And you were wonderful, Alexandra,” Lisa murmured. “You were the most wonderful lover I ever had.”

“Yes, well,” Alexandra said, dropping her eyes and abruptly picking up her coffee cup, “those days are over.” She took a sip and glanced over at Lisa. “Of being a good lover, I mean.” She put the cup down. “I seem to be losing the capacity.”

Lisa hesitated and then said, “But you know why.”

Alexandra didn’t say anything.

“You do, Alexandra,” Lisa said. “Because the same thing happened with me. As soon as you knew it wasn’t going to work for you and you knew—” She stopped herself and looked down at the table. “I don’t think I want to reminisce about that part.” After a minute she looked up. “Anyway, my friend, remember who you’re talking to. This is someone who knows you. So maybe you should just tell me the truth about what’s going on.”