Free Food for Millionaires (43 page)

David had met Ted a few times and fairly or unfairly believed him unworthy of Ella. It was obvious why a woman would marry a man like Ted—the clarity of his ambition, the proven intelligence and good looks—but even in their limited interactions, it seemed to David that Ted didn’t have the deep-rooted kindness that defined Ella. Ted was a thoroughly expedient person. During a charity benefit dinner, Ted had remarked about the actress—the evening’s honoree—who was reputed to sleep with directors to get parts: “So what? If she got on her knees, she was only doing what works. So sex is her currency. Everyone sells something.” He’d tossed it off as if it were a widely shared value. David had smirked guiltily then but recognized that Ella and Ted would always negotiate the world differently. Ted was not unlike David’s father—another man of the world.

Ella pulled out a tissue from her purse to clean her face. David took her in with wonder. Unworthy men got worthy girls because they believed that they deserved the best. If David were ever to get a girl like Ella, he would have to feel entitled to be with her. Top dogs got the best girls—his father used to say this at the club when he noticed attractive women with powerful men. David cared for his fiancée, but what he felt for Colleen couldn’t possibly match what surged through him for Ella. Colleen was smart and kind, and his mother liked her a great deal, but David had never felt the urgency to hold her the way he wanted to hold Ella at this moment. If he took Ella in his arms, he thought he might have a hard time letting her go.

“I love you,” he said.

Ella looked at him. “What did you say?”

It was too late to take it back.

“I love you, and I’ll wait until you’re finished with this marriage.”

“David. What are you saying? You’re engaged.”

“I know. But it has occurred to me that she deserves someone who loves her the way I love you. I think I agreed to my mother’s suggestion about Colleen because I respect my mother, and she’s so ill. Colleen has taken such good care of her, and I felt grateful. And you were married, and I’m thirty-six years old. Maybe those aren’t good enough reasons.. . . I think I’ve been waiting for you anyway, and I didn’t even let myself admit these things because it’s wrong to covet someone else’s wife.” Once he confessed, he felt freer from his anxieties. He sat up straighter and looked at her carefully. Their relationship might have been ruined forever, he thought. She might think he was an awful person.

Ella tilted her head in disbelief. He was serious, and she looked at his wavy hair, parted in the middle, his beautiful eyes, and the upward curve of his lips. She loved him, too. There was no one else she liked more than David. She swayed her head slowly from side to side.

“But is it any less wrong now? Your words, I mean, your feelings. David, you’re nearly married, and I got your wedding invitation only last week. Maybe you’re getting cold feet.. . .” She couldn’t imagine being a party to hurting another person the way Ted had hurt her with Delia.

“I’m not getting cold feet. That’s not it. I’m going to tell her right away. Even if you don’t. . . don’t feel the same way.” David studied her eyes as best he could, but he couldn’t read them properly. Did she love him, too? Ella wasn’t a donor for the school or an old friend of his—he could read most people instinctively. It was different when you were attracted to someone; the reading came out fuzzy. All he could feel in the moment was his wish—his wish for her to love him—and this wish was clouding his perception. But he felt certain about Colleen.

“I can’t marry her. One person shouldn’t serve as a substitute for another.”

Ella paused for breath. How was it possible to digest the sheer number of things that could happen in a day—the cruelty of Ted, the hardness of her lawyer, the need she felt for her daughter, the love of David. The love of David. How was that possible? No one had ever spoken to her so plainly about his feelings except for Ted. And she had believed him. There had never been anyone else except Ted. The idea of dating (Casey had mentioned it already a few times) had sounded ludicrous. And sex (Casey had mentioned that, too) seemed impossible. There was also the herpes. She hadn’t had an outbreak in almost a year, but still. Herpes wasn’t curable. If she had the virus, she could shed it when she had symptoms: That’s what the doctor had said. How could she explain that to someone? How could she explain that to David? Why would anyone want to touch her?

“I don’t know how I feel.. . .”

“Of course.” David couldn’t hide his disappointment. “I picked the dumbest time to say such a thing.”

“No, no, David. That’s not what I meant. I’ve struggled with these feelings for you, too.”

His eyes lit up.

“I thought what I felt was admiration. You know? And I wouldn’t have admitted having a crush on you or anything like that because a woman who’s married shouldn’t. . . I mean. . . you’re not supposed to feel anything like that, right? And—”

She couldn’t tell him that she felt like a diseased person. She had a permanent sexually transmitted condition. If David had told her that he had herpes and she didn’t, she wouldn’t have cared. She would have understood, gotten through it. But she couldn’t imagine him understanding. How could he? Ted once told her that deep down, all men wanted virgins.

“I’m not helping. I’m sorry,” David said, thinking that he shouldn’t have mixed her up about his feelings when she was going through this tough period.

“No, David, you’re my dearest friend. I see that now. And thank you for saying what you did. It means. . . so much.” Ella had stopped crying. She felt pulled into the stare of his enormous eyes, fringed with light brown lashes. He looked afraid. She’d never thought much of blue eyes, and Ted had said it was self-hating for a Korean person to admire blue eyes; but when Ella had pressed Casey for details about Delia, Casey had told her that Delia’s eyes were blue. Why had she always believed so much of what Ted had said?
Why can’t something beautiful be just that?
she wanted to say to him now. Not all blue eyes were beautiful, but David’s were extraordinary. She wanted to kiss his eyelids—the silvery skin, the thin blue veins stretching beneath them like the roots of a tree.

“Close your eyes,” she said to him.

David closed them, and Ella reached over to kiss his eyelids as she had just imagined doing. His eyes remained closed. The kisses had touched him like a blessing, like he had been loved, that he had been cured.

Ella covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my God, what did I just do?” She felt as though she’d woken up from a spell. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I mean, I do. I wanted to—”

David opened his eyes. He had kept them closed to savor the tingling sensation.

He smiled at her. “I should go,” he said. If he stayed, he felt certain that he’d try to make love to her, and that wasn’t what he should do. It would ruin everything that he wanted with her. He would wait.

“But this is your office,” Ella said, giggling.

David smiled and looked about him as if he needed to make sure. He actually felt light-headed. “I mean to my meeting. Can we have dinner tonight?” Then he remembered that he needed to talk to Colleen.

“I have to go home. To Irene.”

“Oh yes. Of course.”

“You can call me tonight. At home. After Irene goes down for the night.”

“Yes. I will.”

Ella nodded, feeling confused and oddly happy. They would talk tonight, and she looked forward to talking to him for many days after. She got up from the sofa, and David rose thereafter.

They were packing to leave Delia’s apartment. The movers were scheduled to come on Tuesday, and Delia was in charge of handling them. The renovations on their new apartment were finally done. The three-bedroom wouldn’t be as comfortable as his town house, obviously, but anything would be better than living in Delia’s tiny apartment another week longer. Delia also liked the new place; she’d never lived anywhere with a view, and this one was of the East River. There was a doorman and an eat-in kitchen. Ted wanted all new furniture. She’d said yes to everything. There was only one thing she cared about.

“What did Chet say? About Irene?” she asked Ted.

“He said I had a very good shot at getting joint custody.” Ted hooked the metal rod inside the wardrobe box. “I should go see her soon. I have to call Ella about that. But she’s going to be in no mood. . .” Ted made a face. He didn’t feel like dealing with her crying again.

“I’m sure she’ll let you see her.”

“Oh, I’m sure she will, too.” Ted hung up his suits neatly in the box. He kept the one he’d wear on Monday and saved two shirts.

On the other side of the apartment, opposite the coat closet, Delia folded a red parka trimmed in white rabbit fur and tucked it into a heavy-duty garbage bag. She was pretty sure she’d give it away. Ted had started his new job at Lally & Co. last November, and he’d taken her to several business dinners where wives of colleagues or clients had been in attendance, and she’d had to think more carefully about her clothes. Ted never said anything critical, but from the looks of the other women, Delia became more conscious that her wardrobe was too bright. She often wondered what Ella wore or how Ella behaved at these functions. Ted didn’t talk about Ella, and though Delia had no wish to hear anything bad about her, sometimes she couldn’t help worrying if she was doing a good job as the future wife of the head of investment banking of Lally & Co. Ted had gotten a big job—that was the phrase that his HBS friends used about his new position. Lally & Co. had recently acquired Jones Hobson and was a threatening competitor to Kearn Davis in terms of assets managed and in the underwriting business.

“Ted, I think she should get the house.”

“I found that house. I spent nearly a whole year getting it up to speed. Even with my bonus next year, it will take me another year or so to buy one of equal quality. And Ella doesn’t even like the house—”

“You said you renovated it with the proceeds from her apartment sale.”

“Yes, but I paid for the down payment and the mortgage and a good chunk of the renovation. The HVAC bill alone was—”

“You don’t want your first wife to be angry with you,” Delia said, walking toward him. “You just don’t.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“And you don’t want your second wife to be angry with you, either,” she said, grinning. She stood a few inches away from him and kissed him, dipping her tongue lightly in his mouth.

He smiled at her. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he said. “I’m smarter than I look.” He raised his eyebrows. She turned him on just by talking to him.

Delia kissed him again. “I like smart men. Very much.” She pressed her body closer to him, then drew back. “I have never doubted how smart you are, Mr. Kim,” she said. “But you want custody, right? And you won’t get everything. Nobody gets everything.”

“Watch me, honey.” Ted would take that as a challenge. His intention was to get everything—to win every point.

“Do you want the house?” she asked.

“I don’t want to lose the house.”

“Oh, Ted. I don’t care about the house. We can get a better house.”

“You haven’t seen this house.”

“I don’t need to. We can stay in the new apartment, and it’s so close to Irene. And when you get a new place, it will be close to the old one so we can see Irene as much as possible.” Delia felt happy to say her name. She wanted to be a stepmother. She loved Ted, and of course she would love Irene. “I’d love to see her. Soon. Can’t you bring Irene here?”

“I don’t know. I usually just visit her when Ella is there. She’s walking, but she’s not potty trained yet.”

“I know how to change diapers.”

Ted sealed up the wardrobe box with packing tape. Ella wouldn’t want Delia to be with Irene. The lawyer had said to avoid unclear behavior. The baby talked some, but would she tell Ella about Delia?

“All in good time, my love.”

Delia walked back to where she’d left her work. She had more clothes to sort through.

“I didn’t know you liked kids so much,” he said.

“I love kids. You know I love kids.” A corner of the closet was nested with dustballs. Delia grabbed a rag from the table.

“We can have kids. As many as you want. I like kids.” A lot of the guys on Wall Street with big jobs had three or four kids. Their favorite complaint was the cost of private school tuition.

Delia wiped up the dustballs, trapping them beneath her rag. She threw the rag into the garbage can. “But what if I can’t?” she said quietly.

“Of course you can,” Ted replied, not in the least perturbed.

“Ted. . .” Delia looked at him.

“Yes, sweetie.” He had finished his bit of packing. There wasn’t much for him to do. Delia had already finished the kitchen things.

“I don’t know if I can.”

Ted didn’t know what to say. She was serious.

“I’ve tried to get pregnant for years. And I can’t. Is that going to work with you?” She closed her mouth and look at him straight. If he wanted to leave right now, she would let him.

“Oh,” he said. Should he have asked her why? The determination in her face was not easy to take. He had actually thought they would have children together. The idea of just the two of them was a little lonely.

“We could adopt. And we’ll have Irene.” Delia picked up the loose plastic hangers from the floor.

Ted shrugged. Adoption seemed like taking on other people’s problems. Who knew what you could get? How could you verify their backgrounds? He said nothing.

“There’s all kinds of technology now.” Ted felt brightened by the things he’d heard about. A few of his colleagues had had kids through IVF. He pushed the box off to the side of the room. He turned to her and saw that Delia was now seated inside her coat closet, odd pairs of shoes heaped about her folded knees, her arms clutching her legs. He went to her.

“Hey? It’s okay. We’ll work this through,” he said. Delia wasn’t crying. That was her way. His Delia was stoic, the way he was.

“I want you, Delia. And we’ll have Irene.”

She smiled at him. He did love her. Delia didn’t bring up the town house again. She would trust that Ted would get everything he wanted. Maybe they might even have a child of their own. Who could say for sure? When she was with Ted, everything did seem possible.