February comes, you’ll feel as though you’ve aged decades. But permit me: fourteen is still very young. And what an enchanting age it is. You’ll find, as time goes on, that innocence is the ultimate aphrodisiac.”
“What does that mean?” I had a vague idea that an “aprodisiac” was a fancy word having something to do with sex.
“Aphrodisiac, from the goddess Aphrodite. Presumably your schooling has encompassed the Greek myths? So an aphrodisiac is a substance that is said to heighten desire. Oysters are a rather clichéd example. But for me a better way to look at it is that an aphrodisiac heightens eros, love, beauty. And furthermore, an aphrodisiac must be personal. To each their own. So for me, an aphrodisiac might be a certain flavor bubble bath my Danish wife, Annebirgitte, used to use when we were first married. Annebirgitte, say it to yourself, Franny, it is a very beautiful name. The bubble bath she used was pine. It smelled of the woods and when I was first courting her.”
“I don’t think I have any yet,” I said.
“Any what?”
“Aphrodisiacs.”
“You do, or shall I say … you will soon. I should think that this summer…”
“What about this summer?”
“Well, being here, in New York, under Theodora Bell’s tender tutelage…”
“There was something you said earlier, Leander.”
“Yes?”
“You said that when you met Theo that afternoon in Paris in the café, she had been weeping. But I just can’t see Theo ever weeping. ”
Leander laughed. “Precocious! How precocious this one is. You are quite right, Franny, quite right.”
“I think of Theo as being … almost inhuman. You know, terribly glamorous and sharp and jaded and all that.”
“Oh, yes, oh, yes. I’ll tell you what, Franny! Are you hungry? I know I am! Let’s order chicken salad sandwiches, why don’t we?”
“Chicken salad sandwiches? I didn’t see them on the menu.” I had seen oysters, shrimp cocktail, and extraordinarily expensive cheeseburgers. What is it about New York City and paying so much for cheeseburgers, anyway?
“We’re in one of the finest hotels in one of the finest cities in the world, are we not? Do they not have chicken? Mayonnaise? Bread? Lettuce? Could they not whip up the if anything quite modest meal of my fantasies and in doing so transport me to the past?”
And so they did. And Leander was right: a simple cold chicken salad sandwich on toasted white bread can be delicious. After we finished our sandwiches, the bartender sent us a plate of Belgian chocolates in fluted red paper. Apparently that was what the hotel guests got overnight on their pillows. I ate only one of them because I was full, so I put two of them in my pocketbook, to share with Val later that night.
Afterward Leander and I said goodbye to each other on Fifth Avenue.
“Promise me something,” he said.
“What?”
“That you’ll write to me sometimes when you get back to San Francisco.”
“My sister Valentines says nobody writes real letters anymore.”
“Ah! But that’s your sister Valentine. You, Franny, I have a feeling about you…”
“You do?”
“Yes. I have the feeling that you may grow up to become a writer. So writing letters will be excellent practice.”
I decided that I liked what he said about me growing up to become a writer. Also, he would write back to me, and I just love getting real letters in the mail. Between Leander and Aunt Theo, I’m going to be quite the correspondent when I get back to San Francisco.
I was putting on my nightgown, my Amour Baby-Doll in Wild Rose that Clover bought me the day we went lingerie shopping, when she knocked on my door.
“You home, Franny? May I come in?”
“Sure.”
Clover opened the door wearing her blue-check artist’s smock and a pink chignon in her hair. There were specks of yellow paint on the smock that looked like they hadn’t quite dried yet, so I could tell she had been at her studio.
“Oh, how pretty
“What does that mean?” I had a vague idea that an “aprodisiac” was a fancy word having something to do with sex.
“Aphrodisiac, from the goddess Aphrodite. Presumably your schooling has encompassed the Greek myths? So an aphrodisiac is a substance that is said to heighten desire. Oysters are a rather clichéd example. But for me a better way to look at it is that an aphrodisiac heightens eros, love, beauty. And furthermore, an aphrodisiac must be personal. To each their own. So for me, an aphrodisiac might be a certain flavor bubble bath my Danish wife, Annebirgitte, used to use when we were first married. Annebirgitte, say it to yourself, Franny, it is a very beautiful name. The bubble bath she used was pine. It smelled of the woods and when I was first courting her.”
“I don’t think I have any yet,” I said.
“Any what?”
“Aphrodisiacs.”
“You do, or shall I say … you will soon. I should think that this summer…”
“What about this summer?”
“Well, being here, in New York, under Theodora Bell’s tender tutelage…”
“There was something you said earlier, Leander.”
“Yes?”
“You said that when you met Theo that afternoon in Paris in the café, she had been weeping. But I just can’t see Theo ever weeping. ”
Leander laughed. “Precocious! How precocious this one is. You are quite right, Franny, quite right.”
“I think of Theo as being … almost inhuman. You know, terribly glamorous and sharp and jaded and all that.”
“Oh, yes, oh, yes. I’ll tell you what, Franny! Are you hungry? I know I am! Let’s order chicken salad sandwiches, why don’t we?”
“Chicken salad sandwiches? I didn’t see them on the menu.” I had seen oysters, shrimp cocktail, and extraordinarily expensive cheeseburgers. What is it about New York City and paying so much for cheeseburgers, anyway?
“We’re in one of the finest hotels in one of the finest cities in the world, are we not? Do they not have chicken? Mayonnaise? Bread? Lettuce? Could they not whip up the if anything quite modest meal of my fantasies and in doing so transport me to the past?”
And so they did. And Leander was right: a simple cold chicken salad sandwich on toasted white bread can be delicious. After we finished our sandwiches, the bartender sent us a plate of Belgian chocolates in fluted red paper. Apparently that was what the hotel guests got overnight on their pillows. I ate only one of them because I was full, so I put two of them in my pocketbook, to share with Val later that night.
Afterward Leander and I said goodbye to each other on Fifth Avenue.
“Promise me something,” he said.
“What?”
“That you’ll write to me sometimes when you get back to San Francisco.”
“My sister Valentines says nobody writes real letters anymore.”
“Ah! But that’s your sister Valentine. You, Franny, I have a feeling about you…”
“You do?”
“Yes. I have the feeling that you may grow up to become a writer. So writing letters will be excellent practice.”
I decided that I liked what he said about me growing up to become a writer. Also, he would write back to me, and I just love getting real letters in the mail. Between Leander and Aunt Theo, I’m going to be quite the correspondent when I get back to San Francisco.
I was putting on my nightgown, my Amour Baby-Doll in Wild Rose that Clover bought me the day we went lingerie shopping, when she knocked on my door.
“You home, Franny? May I come in?”
“Sure.”
Clover opened the door wearing her blue-check artist’s smock and a pink chignon in her hair. There were specks of yellow paint on the smock that looked like they hadn’t quite dried yet, so I could tell she had been at her studio.
“Oh, how pretty
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