haven’t changed a bit, she said enthusiastically. I wish I could say that.
It was hard to believe. She was twenty years older; she had gained weight, even her face showed it. She had been the most beautiful girl.
— You look great, he said. I’d recognize you anywhere.
— Life’s been good to you, she said.
— Well, I can’t complain.
— I guess I can’t either. What happened to everybody?
— What do you mean?
— Morris?
— He died. Five or six years ago.
— That’s too bad.
— They gave him a big dinner before that. He was all smiles.
— You know, I’ve wanted to talk to you so much. I wanted to call you, but I was involved in all this tedious divorce stuff. Anyway, I’m finally free. I should have taken your advice.
— What was that?
— Not to marry him, she said.
— I said that?
— No, but I could see you didn’t like him.
— I was jealous of him.
— Truly?
— Sure. I mean, let’s face it.
She smiled at him.
— Isn’t it funny, she said, five minutes with you and it’s as if none of it ever happened.
Her clothes, he noticed, even her clothes were hiding who she had been.
— Love never dies, he said.
— Do you mean that?
— You know that.
— Listen, can you have dinner?
— Ah, sweetheart, he said, I’d love to, but I can’t. I don’t know if you knew this, but I’m engaged.
— Well, congratulations, she said. I didn’t know.
He had no idea what had made him say it. It was a word he had never used before in his life.
— That’s wonderful, she said straightforwardly, smiling at him with such understanding that he was sure she had seen through him, but he could not imagine them walking into Clarke’s, like an old couple, a couple from time past.
— I figured it’s time to settle down, he said.
— Of course.
She was not looking at him. She was studying her hands. Then she smiled again. She was forgiving him, he felt. That was it. She always understood.
They talked on, but not about much.
He left through the same foyer with its worn mosaic tile and people coming in. It was still light outside, the pure full light before evening, the sun in a thousand windows facing the park. Walking along the street in their heels, alone or together, were girls such as Noreen had been, many of them. They were not really going to meet for lunch sometime. He thought of the love that had filled the great central chamber of his life and how he would not meet anyone like that again. He did not know what came over him, but on the street he broke into tears.
Bangkok
HOLLIS WAS IN THE BACK at a table piled with books and a space among them where he was writing when Carol came in.
— Hello, she said.
— Well, look who’s here, he said coolly. Hello.
She was wearing a gray jersey sweater and a narrow skirt; as always, dressed well.
— Didn’t you get my message? she asked.
— Yes.
— You didn’t call back.
— No.
— Weren’t you going to?
— Of course not, he said.
He looked wider than the last time and his hair, halfway to the shoulder, needed to be cut.
— I went by your apartment but you’d gone. I talked to Pam, that’s her name, isn’t it? Pam.
— Yes.
— We talked. Not that long. She didn’t seem interested in talking. Is she shy?
— No, she’s not shy.
— I asked her a question. Want to know what it was?
— Not especially, he said.
He leaned back. His jacket was draped over the back of the chair and his sleeves rolled partway up. She noticed a round wristwatch with a brown leather strap.
— I asked her if you still liked to have your cock sucked.
— Get out of here, he ordered. Go on, get out.
— She didn’t answer, Carol said.
He had a moment of fear, of guilt almost, about consequences. On the other hand, he didn’t believe her.
— So, do you? she said.
— Leave, will you? Please, he said in a civilized tone. He made a dispersing motion with his hand. I mean it.
— I’m not going to stay long, just a few
It was hard to believe. She was twenty years older; she had gained weight, even her face showed it. She had been the most beautiful girl.
— You look great, he said. I’d recognize you anywhere.
— Life’s been good to you, she said.
— Well, I can’t complain.
— I guess I can’t either. What happened to everybody?
— What do you mean?
— Morris?
— He died. Five or six years ago.
— That’s too bad.
— They gave him a big dinner before that. He was all smiles.
— You know, I’ve wanted to talk to you so much. I wanted to call you, but I was involved in all this tedious divorce stuff. Anyway, I’m finally free. I should have taken your advice.
— What was that?
— Not to marry him, she said.
— I said that?
— No, but I could see you didn’t like him.
— I was jealous of him.
— Truly?
— Sure. I mean, let’s face it.
She smiled at him.
— Isn’t it funny, she said, five minutes with you and it’s as if none of it ever happened.
Her clothes, he noticed, even her clothes were hiding who she had been.
— Love never dies, he said.
— Do you mean that?
— You know that.
— Listen, can you have dinner?
— Ah, sweetheart, he said, I’d love to, but I can’t. I don’t know if you knew this, but I’m engaged.
— Well, congratulations, she said. I didn’t know.
He had no idea what had made him say it. It was a word he had never used before in his life.
— That’s wonderful, she said straightforwardly, smiling at him with such understanding that he was sure she had seen through him, but he could not imagine them walking into Clarke’s, like an old couple, a couple from time past.
— I figured it’s time to settle down, he said.
— Of course.
She was not looking at him. She was studying her hands. Then she smiled again. She was forgiving him, he felt. That was it. She always understood.
They talked on, but not about much.
He left through the same foyer with its worn mosaic tile and people coming in. It was still light outside, the pure full light before evening, the sun in a thousand windows facing the park. Walking along the street in their heels, alone or together, were girls such as Noreen had been, many of them. They were not really going to meet for lunch sometime. He thought of the love that had filled the great central chamber of his life and how he would not meet anyone like that again. He did not know what came over him, but on the street he broke into tears.
Bangkok
HOLLIS WAS IN THE BACK at a table piled with books and a space among them where he was writing when Carol came in.
— Hello, she said.
— Well, look who’s here, he said coolly. Hello.
She was wearing a gray jersey sweater and a narrow skirt; as always, dressed well.
— Didn’t you get my message? she asked.
— Yes.
— You didn’t call back.
— No.
— Weren’t you going to?
— Of course not, he said.
He looked wider than the last time and his hair, halfway to the shoulder, needed to be cut.
— I went by your apartment but you’d gone. I talked to Pam, that’s her name, isn’t it? Pam.
— Yes.
— We talked. Not that long. She didn’t seem interested in talking. Is she shy?
— No, she’s not shy.
— I asked her a question. Want to know what it was?
— Not especially, he said.
He leaned back. His jacket was draped over the back of the chair and his sleeves rolled partway up. She noticed a round wristwatch with a brown leather strap.
— I asked her if you still liked to have your cock sucked.
— Get out of here, he ordered. Go on, get out.
— She didn’t answer, Carol said.
He had a moment of fear, of guilt almost, about consequences. On the other hand, he didn’t believe her.
— So, do you? she said.
— Leave, will you? Please, he said in a civilized tone. He made a dispersing motion with his hand. I mean it.
— I’m not going to stay long, just a few
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