Giles has himself and the situation completely under control.
I pull my cold, wet panties back on and fix my stockings. I catch him watching me, still with a look of utter fascination.
“They work.”
“Where’s my…coat?”
He holds my coat for me and I step away from him the moment my arms are in the sleeves. And so I slink out of his office, along the dimly lit corridors out to the waiting taxis. Hardly anyone is around now. I have no idea what time it is. I ask the driver; it’s half past eleven.
When the taxi turns into the dark lane that leads up to the farm, it starts snowing. Thick, white picture-book flakes float down from a black sky. They dot the windshield and melt, they settle on the black fields to my left and the naked trees to my right. The world blurs; I realize how close I am to tears. It’s so beautiful and calm and still, and I’m such a complete mess. This is what I need, the still, cool simplicity of snow in the woods. Instead, I have to catch a plane to New York City in seven hours.
Chapter 34
I SHUT OFF MY SENSES AGAINST THE SIGHT, the feel, the smell of my underwear and hastily stuff it into the washing machine. The gown will have to be dry-cleaned. That’ll be a situation to rise above, the dry-cleaning lady’s face when she looks over my sex-stained party dress.
A quick shower, and the hot water on my face, in my hair, is a luxurious pleasure that I relish till it runs tepid. Then I quickly soap my armpits and reach between my legs to wash away the evidence of my stupidity, my weakness—and suddenly tears are running down my face. I don’t know how the tears can be even hotter than the water, but they are. Hot and bitter. I’m still so swollen, so sensitive; it feels like oil or syrup that doesn’t dissolve in water. My hand glides easily between the slippery folds, like his hand did, just now, when he held me.
I cup my hand over it like he did and cringe with anguish. It’s a gesture of such tenderness, such appreciation. His tenderness, my response, it’s all so easy, so straightforward, so clear, like the snowflakes in the night sky. And I’m wasting it all, out of cowardice.
“Mom, it’s Anna.”
“Anna! Yes, on the…on the sideboard, Sam! When does your flight get in tomorrow? Do you want us to come and pick you up?”
“No, Mom, I’m…I’m calling to say that I won’t be coming home tomorrow.”
Now I have a hundred percent of her attention.
“Not coming home? What are you saying? Are you ill?”
“No, I’m not ill. I’m all right. It’s just that I can’t leave right now.”
“Can’t leave? Why not? It’s the holidays, isn’t it? You don’t have to teach?”
She’s getting annoyed, but long years of experience have taught me that this is how my mother expresses disappointment.
“Mom, I’m sorry. The truth is…I’ve met someone, and I can’t leave…I can’t leave right now.”
Silence.
“You mean, you can’t leave your new boyfriend for a few days to come and see your parents during the holidays?”
“He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Well, what do you want me to call him? Your lover?”
I’m tempted to say that he isn’t my lover, either. I’ve squirted all over his office, but he’s not my lover, and if I don’t do the right thing now, he never will be. But long years of experience have also taught me that there’s no point in sharing my private life with my mother.
“I’m hoping he’ll be my friend. This is important to me, Mom, so—”
“More important than your family?”
Now I’m getting annoyed, too.
“Oh, Mother! Must you be such a stereotype?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Look, Mom. I don’t want to fight. But I have to do this, so please—”
“You’ve been crying!”
“Yes.”
More silence. A mother’s sigh.
“Well, I only hope this’ll work out better than the last one…that Irishman!”
Her tone has mellowed, and I know perfectly well that she is sounding me out. I wish that I could tell her what she wants to hear.
“Yes, Mom, so do I. Listen, I have to go. Give my love to Dad and Nat, and to the kids!”
I sit and stare at the receiver that I’ve only just managed not to slam down on the hook. My heart pounds high in my throat. It is guilt, and a wild sense of liberation. I have defied my mother. I