“You’re not that bad yet. You cleaned up those chestnuts pretty quick.”

“No. But I’m getting there, Alejandro. I just feel so vague … and so lost….”

“All you can do is be good to yourself, and wait till you feel more yourself.”

“Yeah, and in the meantime I look at his stuff in the closet. I lie in bed, and wait to hear his key in the door, and I kid myself that he’s in Chicago and he’ll be back in the morning. It’s driving me goddamn nuts.”

“No wonder. Look, babe, he’s not dead.”

“No. But he’s gone. And I’ve come to rely on him so much. In thirty years, or ten adult ones anyway, I’ve never relied on a man. But with Luke, I let myself go, I tore down all the walls. I leaned all over him, and now … I feel like I’m going to fall over.”

“Now?” He tried to tease her a little.

“Oh shut up.”

“All right, seriously. The fact is that he’s gone and you’re not. You’re going to have to pick up your life. Sooner or later.”

She nodded again, dug her hands deeper into her pockets, and they walked on. They had reached the horse carriages at the Plaza before she looked up.

“It must be quite a hotel,” Alejandro said. In a way, it reminded him of the Fairmont.

“Haven’t you ever been in it? Just for a look?” She was surprised when he shook his head.

“Nope. No reason to. This isn’t exactly my part of town.” She smiled at him and slipped her hand through his arm.

“Come on, let’s go in.”

“I’m not wearing a tie.” The idea made him nervous.

“And I look like a slob. But they know me. They’ll let us in.”

“I bet they will.” He laughed at her, and they marched up the steps to the Plaza, looking as though they had decided to buy the place on a lark.

They walked past the powdered dowagers eating pastry to the strains of violins in the Palm Court, and Kezia guided him expertly down the mysterious halls. They heard Japanese, Spanish, Swedish, a flurry of French, and the music that reminded Alejandro of old Garbo movies. The Plaza was more grandiose than the Fairmont, and much more alive.

They stopped at a door while Kezia peeked inside. The room was large and opulent with the endless oak paneling that had given it its name. There was a long elaborate bar, and a lovely view of the park.

“Louis?” She signaled to the headwaiter as he approached with a smile.

“Mademoiselle Saint Martin, comment ça va! Quel plaisir!” “Hello Louis. Do you suppose you could squeeze us into a quiet table? We’re not dressed.”

“Aucune importance. That is not a problem!” He assured them so magnanimously that Alejandro was convinced they could have arrived stark naked, and possibly should have.

They settled at a small table in the corner, and Kezia dug into the nuts.

“Well, do you like it?”

“It’s quite something.” He looked a bit awed. “Do you come here a lot?”

“No. I used to. As much as one can. Women are only allowed in at certain times.”

“A stag bar, eh?”

“You’re close. Rhymes with …” She giggled. “Fags, darling, fags. I suppose you might say this is the most elegant gay bar in New York.” He laughed in answer and took a look around. She was right. There were a number of gay men scattered here and there—a very large number as he took a second look. They were by far the most elegant men in the room. The others all looked like solid businessmen, and dull.

“You know, Kezia, when I look around a place like this, I know why you wound up with Luke. I used to wonder. Not that there’s anything wrong with Lucas. But I’d expected you to hang out with some Wall Street lawyer.”

“I tried that for a while. He was gay.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. But what did you mean when you said ‘when you look around a place like this’?”

“Just that the men in your set don’t knock me out.”

“Oh. Well, they don’t knock me out either. That was always the trouble.”

“And now what? You go back to the old world?”

“I don’t know if I can, or why I should bother. I think most likely I’ll wait for Luke to get out.” He didn’t say anything, and they ordered another round of scotch.

“What about your friend Edward? Have you made peace with him?” Alejandro still shuddered at the memory of the half-crazed voice on the phone at the Fairmont after the hearing.

“After a fashion. I don’t think he’ll ever really forgive me for the scandal. It makes him feel like a failure, since in a sense he brought me up. But at least the papers have cooled it. And people forget. I’m already old news.” She shrugged and took another swallow of scotch. “Besides, people let me get away with a lot. If you have enough money they call you eccentric and think you’re amusing. If you don’t have the bucks they call you a perverted pig and an asshole. It’s disgusting, but it’s true. You’d be aghast at some of the things my friends get away with. Nothing as mundane as my ‘outrageous’ love affair with Luke.”

“Do you care if people get upset about Lucas?”

“Not really. It’s my business, not theirs. A lot has changed in the last few months. Mostly me. It’s just as well. Edward, for instance, had this illusion of me as a child.”

Alejandro wanted to say “So do I,” but he didn’t. She had that quality about her; it had something to do with her size and her seeming fragility.

They left after their third round of scotch, on equally empty stomachs, both high as kites.

“You know what’s funny?” She was laughing so hard she could barely stand up, but the cold air had sobered them both a little.

“What’s funny?”

“I don’t know … everything is….” She laughed again, and he wiped tears of cold and mirth from his eyes.

“Hey, you want a horse buggy ride?”

“Yes!” They piled aboard and Alejandro instructed the driver to take them to Kezia’s. It was a cozy carriage with an old raccoon lap robe. They snuggled under it and giggled all the way home, insulated by the raccoon and the scotch.

“Can I tell you a secret, Alejandro?”

“Sure. I love secrets.” He held her close so she wouldn’t fall out. That was as good an excuse as any.

“I’ve been drunk every night since I got back.”

He looked at her through his own haze of scotch and shook his head. “That’s dumb. I won’t let you do that to yourself.”

“You’re such a nice man. Alejandro, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They sat side by side and rode the rest of the way to her house in silence. He paid for the hansom cab and they rode up to her apartment, giggling in the elevator.

“You know, I think I’m too drunk to cook.”

“Just as well. I think I’m too drunk to eat.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Kezia, you should eat …”

“Later. Want to come to dinner tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here. With a lecture.” He tried to look grave but couldn’t master the expression and she laughed at him.

“Then I won’t let you in.”

“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow …” They both collapsed in the kitchen with mirth, and he tipsily kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve got to go. But I’ll see you tomorrow. And make me a promise?”

“What?” All of a sudden he had looked so serious.

“No more drinking tonight, Kezia. Promise?”

“I … uh … yeah … okay.” But it was a promise she was not planning to keep.

She saw him to the elevator, and waved cheerily as the door closed, before coming back to the kitchen and bringing out the rest of last night’s fresh bottle of scotch. She was surprised that there was only an inch or so left.

It was odd, but as she poured what was left into a tumbler with one ice cube, the vision of Tiffany’s funeral flashed into mind. It was a dumb way to die, but the others all left such a big mess. At least drinking wasn’t messy … not really … not very … or was it? She didn’t really give a damn, as she smiled to herself and drained the full glass.

The phone was ringing but she didn’t bother to answer it. It couldn’t have been Luke. Even drunk she knew that much. Luke was away on a trip … in Tahiti … on a safari … and there were no phones there … but he’d be back at the end of the week. She was sure of it. Friday. And let’s see … what was today? Tuesday? Monday? Thursday! He’d be home tomorrow. She opened a fresh bottle. Bourbon this time. For Lucas. He’d be coming home soon.


Chapter 30


“Child, you look awfully thin.”

“Marina just called it ‘divinely svelte.’ She and Halpern just walked by.” The wedding had been held over the New Year’s holiday in Palm Beach.

Edward slid onto the banquette beside her. It was their first lunch in almost two months. And now she looked so different it shocked him.

Her eyes were sunken into her head, her skin looked taut on her cheekbones, and there was not even luster where once there had been fire. What a price she had paid. And for what? It still horrified him, but he had promised her not to discuss it. That was the condition on which she’d accepted his invitation to lunch. And he wanted so much to see her. Maybe there was still a chance to regain what they’d lost.

“Sorry I was late, Kezia.”

“Not to worry, love. I had a drink while I waited.” And that was new too. But at least she was still impeccably groomed. Even more so than usual, in fact. She looked almost formal. The mink coat she so seldom wore was thrown over the back of a chair.

“Why so dressed up today, my dear? Going somewhere after lunch?” Normally, she played it down, but not today, and the rare appearance of the mink coat surprised him.

“I’m turning over a new leaf. Coming home to roost, as they say.” Luke’s letter that morning had insisted that she at least try her old stamping grounds again. It was better than sitting home sulking—or drinking, a new habit he didn’t know about. But she had decided to try his advice. That was why she had accepted the luncheon with Edward, and dragged out the fur coat. But she felt like an ass. Or like Tiffany, trying to dress up disaster with breath mints and fur.