In Name Only (19 page)

"To tell the truth, Senhora Cordero," she began, knowing the truth was a necessary lie, "I liked the river trip so much, I decided to catch the next steamship that stops at Manaus and go further inland."

"I'm not sure Senhor Todd will like that."

Jill gave her a complacent smile. "My husband told me that his schedule is so hectic, he doesn't know how much time he's going to spend with me for the next couple of weeks. He'll understand perfectly."

The housekeeper's face was impassive, a sign Jill had learned to read as disapproval.

"In the United States we call a married woman whose husband is always away on business, a grass widow," Jill added as a vague apology for her odd behavior.

Senhora Cordero nodded reprovingly. "I see. And you don't want to be a grass widow."

"I don't want to be a grass widow and I won't be."

"When you have children, things will seem different," the housekeeper told her.

"Yes. I suppose you're right."

As if to change an uncomfortable subject, the housekeeper pointed to her gown. "That's very beautiful."

"Thank you," Jill answered, pleased. "It's made here in Manaus. I purchased it at the Manaus Co-op. Have you heard of it?"

"Yes. I have. But the clothes are very expensive."

"Well, they're handmade," Jill told her.

"Still, they can't have many customers," Senhora Cordero insisted. "Not at the prices they charge."

"I suppose not." Jill remembered the look on Edna Pinheiro's face when she entered the store. It was a look that said quite clearly that Jill had been the first customer that day. And then suddenly, there it was. The special thing that was waiting for her. She stood up, tingling with excitement. "Excuse me, senhora. I'm going to go out for a while."

"It's near dinnertime," the housekeeper said anxiously. "What time will you be back?"

Jill glanced over at the stove, at the large pot of
feijoda
cooking there, a stew of beans and meat for the staff. She would save them all time and trouble if she ate out.

"I don't know," she said. "I'll have a bite to eat out."

"I want to help." Jill was breathless. She had taken the bus downtown and had all but run the remaining blocks to the Manaus Co-op.

Edna Pinheiro, alone in the shop, was poised over a plant with a watering can in her hand. She gave Jill a surprised look, as if she did not quite know what language was being spoken.

"I want to help," Jill repeated. "I want to work here."

Edna frowned, a little embarrassed. "But it's not possible," she began in an agitated manner.

"No, no. I mean I want to work
with
you. As a partner. Please say yes. There's so much I feel I can do. I just couldn't wait to get here. I'm spilling over with ideas."

Edna carefully put the watering can down. She took Jill's arm and drew her over to a chair. "You just sit here. I'll be back in a moment."

Jill was too excited to remain seated, however, and when Edna returned in a few minutes bearing two
cafezinhos
, she burst out laughing. "Okay, I'll go slow. I don't want you to think I've suddenly gone crazy." She bade Edna sit down, and pulled a chair close. "It was my housekeeper," she went on. "She knew all about your store. But she knew something else, too. She knew that your clothes are too expensive."

Edna looked offended. "But there are plenty of stores in Manaus that sell expensive clothes."

"Clothes from Paris, New York, Rio, all with designer labels. The very women who should be buying these, are in those stores spending their money. I understand that. They think because these clothes are homegrown so to speak, they should be cheap. So, we need publicity, and perhaps a slightly cheaper line as well, and we need to find other stores in other cities—"

"And how do you think we're going to do all that?" Edna interrupted, laughing.

"We will. You need a backer, that's all."

"I see." Edna was now suddenly very serious. "And is that how you propose yourself?"

"Yes." They stared at one another openly for a few seconds. "You do believe me, don't you?"

Edna's face flushed red. "I don't know. Should I?"

"I'm deadly serious," Jill told her in a very quiet voice. "Today's Friday and it's entirely too late to do any business at the bank. On Monday, you and your partner and I will go to the bank and start things rolling. Meanwhile, I thought I ought to stay here for the rest of the day and learn everything about the co-op that I can."

"And if anyone should happen to walk into the shop, you'll have the pleasure of waiting on her," Edna said, a look of amazement on her pleasant face. "And advertising," Jill pointed out, excitedly.

"We're going to get them in here if we have to go out and corral them."

"You're talking about a great deal of money." Jill looked at Edna, feeling calm and confident for the first time in her life. "Yes," she said. "I suppose I am."

Later they discussed business over dinner in a Chinese restaurant, one of several foreign restaurants available in the city. They talked with the kind of dreamy enthusiasm that made everything seem possible. There was so much to be done. Afterward, they had walked the avenues, looking in shop windows, deciding on the possibility of a new location, closer to the smarter shops.

"We should start slowly," Edna suggested. "In Manaus we have a habit of ambling along."

"On the contrary, we're going to go for broke." Jill giggled like a schoolgirl. "We have absolutely nothing to lose but a little money."

"You talk as if money is nothing," Edna said.

"I am sorry," Jill said. "I do want to put what I have to good use, that's all." She remembered wondering, in Chicago, if one had to learn how to be rich.

Edna was silent for a while. "Where do you live, anyway?" she asked at last.

"Rua Teresinha."

The schoolteacher nodded knowingly. "Of course. I should have guessed."

"What do you mean by that?" Jill asked.

"It's the best residential area in Manaus. You don't suppose everyone lives like that."

"Oh, I see. I guess I'm being very stupid," Jill said.

"I knew that it was very elegant, of course, but I never stopped to think it was special." She looked entreatingly at her new partner. "You must think I'm pretty silly."

"On the contrary. I find you wonderfully open and generous."

"And where do you live?" Jill asked.

Edna smiled. "Not nearly so grandly, I'm afraid. I've a little apartment off Ribeiro, in an old building. My rent is just right for a teacher's poor salary."

"Alone?"

"Yes. My parents have gone homesteading upriver. There's still land out there for people who want to build a new kind of life."

"I came to Manaus to build a new kind of life," Jill said. "And now I really am."

"Ten o'clock," Edna noted, looking at her watch. "Your husband must be very anxious about you."

"He's out of town," Jill said quickly, hoping that Edna wouldn't go into the matter further. She asked the waiter for the bill.

"He won't disapprove of what you're doing?" Edna asked apprehensively.

Jill shrugged. "He won't have a choice, I'm afraid." She paid the bill, and rather than discuss her problems, took her leave, grabbing a cab which deposited her a half hour later on Rua Teresinha.

The housekeeper was waiting impatiently for her when Jill let herself in the front door.

"Senhor Todd has been calling you frantically."

"Where is he?" Jill asked, flushing suddenly, yet annoyed that Simon should be trying to keep tabs on her.

"He said to call him at the Tropical Hotel in Santarem. He couldn't understand where you were or what happened to you."

Jill, spontaneously put her arm about the woman's shoulders. It was no fault of Senhora Cordero's that she and Simon were feuding. "You go to bed. I'll get in touch with him."

Mollified, the housekeeper waited silently as Jill took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. She had no intention of calling Simon, of having to apologize for her - actions. He had a lot more to answer for.

It was close to midnight, and Jill lay in bed, dozing, when the telephone went off, the sound a frightening blast in the cool, silent air. She suddenly wanted to open the window, to let in the night cries of insects and birds and small animals. It was awful to be shut away in that cool box. She reached quickly for the phone. "Yes?" Her voice was a sleepy whisper.

"Where the devil have you been?" His question, in English, was a low, furious burst.

She was wide awake now, a model of calm, although her heart seemed ready to burst the casing of her body. "Simon, you just woke me out of a deep sleep."

"Do you realize what you've been doing to me?"

She couldn't respond, not trusting what she might say.

"Answer me!"

"I don't think we have to go into that right now."

"You don't. Do you know what it was like to get back to the hotel only to find that you had simply walked out, leaving no message, nothing. All I could learn was that the hotel had cashed a check for you."

"I won't go into it right now," she said.

"Is it true you just returned via freighter? Are you crazy? A woman alone on one of those?"

"I rather enjoyed myself."

"She rather enjoyed herself!" His tone, mocking, revealed a kind of anguish she didn't know he possessed.

Still, she tried to remain calm, apart, to remember that he had abandoned her in Santarem, that they could never resolve the pull of their bodies toward one another with a meeting of their souls. "She rather enjoyed herself," he repeated. "I thought you understood what was happening when I left you in the room."

"I understood only too well," she said.

"I'll be down first thing in the morning," he said. "I want you to wait for me, do you hear?"

"I'm sorry," she said coolly. "I have an appointment the first thing."

"To have your hair done?" His tone was sarcastic. "That can wait."

"I'm afraid it's a little more than that, Simon. I won't be here when you come back. Ever. Good-bye." Shaking, she replaced the receiver. Agitated, almost expecting the telephone to ring again, she fell against her pillow, allowing her tears to rain down.

Sleep descended on her a little toward morning. She had waited the endless hours for the telephone to ring, knowing that if he called again, it would signal his wanting her, but it never came.

With swollen eyes scarcely covered by makeup, Jill came down to breakfast early. She was dressed in khaki slacks, a lightweight print blouse, and carried her linen jacket. She had packed a bag with her simplest clothes, leaving the rest behind along with her jewelry, the sole exception being her wedding band.

"There's a steamer going up the Amazon today, and I've decided to go along," she announced at once to the housekeeper.

Senhora Cordero, in the process of pouring coffee, turned to her in amazement. "But Senhor Todd is coming home today."

"Yes, I know. I told him I was leaving."

The housekeeper, grim lipped, shook her head, but did not interfere.

"I'll call him first chance I get."

"I can't tie you down, senhora, but I wish you'd think it over."