"I know. I still think you're interesting."
"When can I hear your reasons," she said after a while.
"Anytime Roger says it's alright."
"He doesn't own me you know. I can make up my, own mind."
"That's not the way it looks to me. I think he sort of dominates you a little."
"That's not so. Not at all. I do what I want," Tina said in an annoyed and slightly angry tone.
"You deny too much. Perhaps there is some truth in what I say."
Tina blushed. She knew she could hide nothing from him. He was far too wise and worldly to know when things were right and when they were not.
She could feel the power and the assertion in him when he said that.
"I'll be going away in a few days. I guess we'll see each other when I come back."
"When are you coming back?"
"In a week. I must see a friend."
A woman, Tina thought. She thought he must have dozens of women stashed around all over France. He seemed the quiet type that would have a stable of women to keep him happy.
"He's a guitar maker. At least eighty years old and still making guitars as if he were twenty."
She breathed a sigh of relief not even knowing why she was happy that he did not have another woman.
"He sounds interesting."
"To say the least. He cuts his own trees and saws his own wood for the guitars."
"Where are you going?"
"To Spain. Just across the border actually."
"I wish I could go. I mean I wish I could get away from Paris for a while and see the rest of Europe as long as I'm here."
"Would you like to go with me?"
She was taken aback by this. She wanted to go more than anything but she was sure that Roger would not let her go. He would make a fuss about it and refuse to let her go.
They arrived at the pension where Roger and Tina stayed and Jake helped her take the limp and drunken body of Roger up the stairs and into bed.
"Well, thanks a lot, Jake," Tina said as she shook his hand at the door.
"Anytime. If you need me for anything just call. Here's my number at home and at work."
"Alright. I'll do that."
That night Tina could hardly sleep. She felt something stirring and moving within her. She felt the presence of Jake all around her as if he were a specter. Something that shrouded over her and seemed to know the deepest secrets of her soul.
She knew it was odd for her to feel this way and she knew she was treading on dangerous ground with him.
Yet she could not help feeling the way she did.
The next day Roger could hardly get out of bed. He was sick and weak and could hardly move.
"Man. Have I got a hangover."
"You shouldn't drink so much. You know you can't hold it."
"I can too. It was just that lousy cheese I ate. It must have been spoiled."
"Everybody else ate it. Nobody got sick."
"They're used to it, Tina. They've been in Paris longer and they can take it. Bacteria and all that."
"Yeah. I guess you're right."
She knew that it was not the cheese or anything else. It was the fact that Roger had been digging a grave for himself and he had taken to drinking to blot out the mess he was in.
"Listen, Roger. I want to tell you something. I want to go away with Jake. He's going to Spain for a week and I want to go with him." The shock registered slowly on his face. She could see that he was hurt but she had to fight for her own salvation. She couldn't stand around and be sucked into the same private hell that Roger was going through.
"So go. It doesn't matter to me what the hell you do. I don't give a shit who you fuck."
"Don't be like that, Roger. Please don't make a scene. Can't you just once accept life for what it is and stop crying like a baby every time something happens that you don't like. Face it Roger. You're a child."
Roger limply lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.
"Sure. Go. Just when I needed you the most."
"You don't need me Roger. You need a mother."
She whirled on her heels and went into the other room to begin packing her things.
As she packed she made a phone call to Jake.
"Hello, Jake. This is Tina. Is that invitation still open to go to Spain?"
"Yes it is. How did Roger take it?"
"Badly."
"I knew he would."
"He'll learn I suppose. One of these days he'll learn."
"Shall I come by and pick you up?"
"No. I want to take a cab. I want to do this my way."
"Alright. Ring for me when you get here and I'll come down and meet you. We'll have lunch at the station and then well take the afternoon train."
"Yes. That's fine."
"I'll see you later."
She hung up and continued to pack. Roger stumbled into the room. His dressing gown flopped about him limply.
"When did this all happen?" he asked.
"Last night. When he helped me take you home."
"When the cat's away huh?"
"No. Not when the cat's away, Roger. It's not like that at all. And stop trying to make me sound like a slut or a whore."
"That's what you are isn't it?"
"That game doesn't work any more, Roger. I can't feel guilty about anything I do anymore."
His last weapon was gone. He sat on a chair and watched silently as she packed and when she was ready to leave she stood before him and leaned over to kiss him.
"Goodbye, Roger."
"Don't touch me you little tramp."