“I'd like that very much.”
“You would?” He sounded stunned and she laughed.
“Yes, I would. Would you like to come to Stinson Beach for an afternoon?” She sounded so easy and natural that he was grateful to her. She didn't make it sound as though he had his tongue hanging out and was annoying her. It sounded as though she wasn't surprised at all, and would enjoy seeing him.
“I'd love it. How long will you be there?”
“Two weeks.”
He made a rapid calculation in his head. There was no reason why he couldn't take Saturday off for once. There was no rule that said he had to be there. He just had nothing else to do. “How about this Saturday?” It was only two days away and his palms grew damp thinking of it.
She paused, trying to remember who she'd invited when. Stinson Beach always gave her a chance to see all her friends, and invite everyone out for a day. But Saturday was still free. “That sounds fine …great, in fact …” She smiled, thinking of him. He was a nice-looking man, and he had been nice to Jane, and he didn't appear to be gay, and he didn't wear a wedding band…. “By the way, you're not married, are you?” It never hurt to ask. It would have been a bit of a shock to find out afterwards. But it had happened before. Not this time though.
“Good God no! What a thought!”
Aha. One of those. “Allergic to marriage, are you?”
“No. I just work very hard.”
“What does that have to do with it?” She was open and direct and suddenly curious about him. She had her own reasons for not getting married again. Once burned, twice smart, but at least she'd tried it once. But then again maybe he had too. “Are you divorced?”
He smiled to himself at his end, wondering why she asked. “No, I'm not divorced. And yes, I like girls. And I have lived with two women in my life, and I'm very comfortable the way things are. I haven't had a lot of time to give to anyone. I've spent the last ten years concentrating on my career.”
“That can be empty sometimes.” She sounded as though she knew and he wondered what she did. “I'm lucky I've got Jane.”
“Yes, you are.” He fell silent as he thought of the little girl, and decided to save the rest of his questions for Stinson Beach when he could see her face and her eyes and her hands. He had never been crazy about getting to know someone over the telephone. “I'll see you both on Saturday then. Anything I can bring? A picnic? Wine? Anything from the store?”
“Sure. A mink coat would be nice.”
He laughed and they hung up and for a whole hour afterwards he felt good. She had that kind of voice, easy and warm, and she didn't seem to have an ax to grind. She wasn't one of those women who hated men, or at least she didn't seem to be, and she didn't seem out to prove anything. He was really looking forward to their afternoon in Stinson Beach, and on Friday night before he went home, he went to their gourmet shop and bought two shopping bags of goodies to take to her. A chocolate teddy bear for Jane, and a box of chocolate truffles for Liz, two kinds of Brie, a baguette bread they flew in from France, a tiny tin of caviar, and another of pate, two bottles of wine, one red and one white, and another tin of marrons glaces.
He put the bags in his car and drove home, and the next morning at ten o'clock he showered and shaved and put on blue jeans and an old blue shirt, slipped his feet into a beaten-up pair of sneakers, and grabbed a warm jacket from the closet in the hall. He had brought comfortable old clothes with him from New York for when the construction was going on, and now they were useful for the beach, and just as he picked up the two shopping bags, the phone rang. He wasn't going to answer it and then wondered if it was Elizabeth, changing their plans, or asking him to pick something up on the way, so he picked it up, still juggling his jacket and the bags.
“Yeah?”
“That's no way to answer the phone, Bernard.”
“Hi, Mom. I'm just on my way out.”
“To the store?” The interrogation began.
“No … to the beach. I'm visiting some friends today.”
“Anyone I know?” Which, roughly translated, meant: Would I approve of them?
“I don't think so, Mom. Is everything okay?”
“Fine.”
“Good. Then I'll call you tonight, or tomorrow from the store. I've got to run.”
“Must be someone important if you can't talk to your mother for five minutes. Is it a girl?” No. A woman. And then of course there was Jane.
“No, just some friends.”
“You're not hanging out with those boys out there, are you, Bernard?”
Oh for chrissake. He was dying to say he was, just to irritate her. “No, I'm not. Look, I'll talk to you soon.”
“All right, all right…don't forget to wear a hat in the sun.”
“Give my love to Dad.”
He hung up and hurried out of his apartment before she could call back to warn him to be careful of sharks. And her favorite was warning him about hot items she saw in the Daily News. She was always warning him not to use some product that had gone bad and killed two people in Des Moines …botulism …Legionnaire's disease …heart attack …hemorrhoids …toxic shock. The possibilities were unlimited. It was nice having someone to worry about your health, but not with the passion of his mother.
He put the two shopping bags in the back of his car and got in, and ten minutes later he was on the Golden Gate Bridge, heading north. He had never been to Stinson Beach before, and he loved the intricate, winding road which rode the crest of the hills, looking down on the cliffs that jutted out over the sea. It was a miniature Big Sur, and he enjoyed the ride. He drove through the tiny town, and went to the address she had given him. She was in a private community called Seadrift, and he had to give the guard at the tollgate his name. But other than the security, it didn't look like a fancy place. The houses were on a very human scale, and the people who wandered by were bare-foot and in shorts. It looked like the kind of place where families went, like Long Island or Cape Cod, and it looked wholesome and nice, as he pulled into the driveway of the house number she had given him. There was a tricycle outside, and a washed-out rocking horse who looked as though he had been out in the elements for years, and Bernard clanked an old school bell at the front gate, and then opened it. And then suddenly there was Jane, wearing one of the bikinis he had sent, and the little terry cloth robe he had picked out to go with it.
“Hi, Bernie.” She beamed up at him, as they both remembered the banana split and their conversation about Christmas and God. “I love my new bathing suit.”
“It looks great on you.” He walked over to her, and she smiled up at him. “We could use you as a model at the store. Where's your mom? Don't tell me she's lost again.” He put on a disapproving frown and Jane laughed a deep belly laugh that touched his heart. “Does she do that a lot?”
Jane shook her head. “Only in stores …sometimes …”
“What do I do in stores?” Elizabeth stuck her head out the door and smiled at Bernard. “Hello there. How was the drive?”
“Beautiful.” He looked as though he had really enjoyed the trip as they exchanged a warm, expressive glance.
“Not everyone says that when they arrive. It's an awfully winding road.”
“I always throw up,” Jane supplied with a grin. “But I like it once we're here.”
“Do you sit in the front seat with the windows down?” He looked concerned.
“Yup.”
“Do you eat saltines before you go? …Nah …I'll bet you eat banana splits all the time.” And then he remembered the chocolate teddy bear, and pulled it out of the bag for her before handing the rest to Liz. “For both of you, a few goodies from the store.”