So I spent as much time as I could, that whole week or two, in Molly’s presence, but of course that meant Dex was always there too. I kept looking for some kind of signal from her, and I never got one, but then I’d think, well, of course not, how much of a signal is she going to give me with her boyfriend two feet away? So finally there was that one afternoon, the day before they left; I called downstairs to ask for you and Tasha told me you were in with Dex.
So I dropped what I was doing and went downstairs, and I found her in the parlor, on the window seat, just looking out toward the road. I closed the door and I just unloaded, I said it all. I told her I was madly in love with her. I told her that she was unlike any other woman I’d ever met in my life, from the moment I met her I suddenly had that feeling of knowing just what I wanted, and that I was sorry if all this put her in an awkward position but I knew if I let her go without declaring myself I’d regret it the rest of my life. It just poured out of me. Usually I have such trouble saying what’s in my heart. I don’t know where it all came from this time.
He exhaled nervously, reliving it. The waiter impassively poured more wine and withdrew again from earshot.
She didn’t say anything; she just turned redder and redder and stared at me. I felt bad for having put her on the spot like that, but on the other hand it was a terrible position for me to be in too, you know? Totally vulnerable. Wide open. I was dying, but I remember thinking, at least she’s not turning away. So then I hear these footsteps on the stairs behind me and it’s Tasha, coming to tell me that you need to see me about something.
Mal speared and ate the zucchini flower, the last thing on his plate. He wasn’t even looking at me anymore, he was so lost in the drama of it all. I wouldn’t mind knowing, actually, what I looked like just at that moment.
You know what? he said, sitting back. I think I’ve figured out what it is about her that’s so … inspiring. Tell me if this sounds right to you. She’s not uncomfortable with silence. If she has nothing to say then she doesn’t say anything. In fact, now that I think about it, she goes further than that: she makes these silences. She asks you something, you answer her, and then suddenly there’s just this silence. There’s something about it that’s intolerable, really, in terms of how self-conscious it makes you: it makes you want to fill it up. And so you go on to give more of an answer than you thought you wanted to, and inevitably that’s where you say your best stuff, you know? She brings it out of you.
I nodded, I suppose, but if I had crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him I doubt it would have changed the course of the conversation. He was talking just to talk, just to get it out. It didn’t have to be me there. I could have been anyone.
I wonder if she even knows she’s doing that, Mal said. So anyway, I was grateful, really, to be interrupted there in the parlor, because the tension was just too great. And then I had to hear about this whole episode with Dex and Fiona. I knew he had to go after that. I’d known it for a while, I suppose, but I wouldn’t act on it because I wanted Molly around. If only there were some way to keep her here and get rid of him: that’s what I was thinking. But I couldn’t figure out how to make it happen. And anyway, she hadn’t said anything! She hadn’t given me anything to go by. Of course, she hadn’t said no either. But I got to thinking that maybe what I was doing was just too reckless, or maybe it was some sort of midlife crisis starting to surface. I mean I barely knew this woman at all, and here I was ready to sacrifice everything. So I let them go back to New York. But that just made it worse. I thought about her every second. I went to Bilbao and just lay in my room and thought about her. Finally I decided to go back home via New York. I had to do a little detective work. But I found her.
He wiped his mouth. He poured out the rest of the wine himself; from the shadows the waiter raised his eyebrows to ask if we wanted another bottle, and Mal shook his head no. What is it about her? he said. You know what? You’re the only one in the world I can have this conversation with. Literally. Except Dex, I suppose, but that’s not awfully likely. But what is it? She’s a beautiful woman, but there’s something about her beauty, something elusive, something withheld from you that you want to get hold of. Not having hold of it makes you crazy. I tell you, most women you meet, most people you meet, you feel like inside the first hour you’ve learned everything about them there is to know. But Molly, there’s so much inside her, so much you have to work to get at. Innocence is the wrong word, it’s definitely the wrong word. It’s purity. It’s an unconsciousness of being observed. Like — like the anti-Heisenberg; she’s not changed by being observed. Right? Like a work of art. In fact I keep wanting to say Mona Lisa, but of course that’s a terrible cliché.
I thought if I stayed silent long enough myself, the momentum of his excitement would just carry him past this pause and he’d start talking again. But he waited, and stared at me, until finally lines of concern appeared on his forehead.
Listen, he said. You’re being honest with me, right? That you’re okay with this? Because both Molly and I have nothing but –
We’re fine, I said hurriedly. She and I are all square. It’s ancient history anyway, and anything that was left to put to rest about the way it ended, we put that to rest. The two of you, well, it’s a huge surprise, obviously, but I’m very happy for both of you.
* * *
WE DROVE, EACH in his own car, back to the mansion. Mal, who enjoys driving like a lunatic even when he’s not as keyed up as he was tonight, beat me there by several minutes and was already inside when I pulled up behind the kitchen. From the third-floor landing I could see light escaping from under my door — Elaine was back from New York. I stood motionless for a few seconds, looking at that sliver of light; then I turned and went back downstairs. I went to the pantry and got myself a beer, and I drank it as I wandered around the darkened first floor, down to the empty basement, dark and silent except for some indeterminate noises coming from behind Milo’s studio door. It wasn’t that I was too upset to face Elaine, or anybody else; it’s just that sometimes when you have your mind on something, you’d rather be alone than have to pretend that your mind’s on anything else. I didn’t want to have to act interested in how anyone else’s day had gone. So I killed some time.
Meanwhile, Mal goes up to the fourth floor, opens the door to his bedroom, and Molly’s in there.
After a few hours I went back upstairs; the light under the door was out. I opened the door and slipped into bed beside Elaine without waking her.
HE HADN’T EVER met her until that day I escorted her into his office; Dex hadn’t even brought her along when he crashed that opening, back in New York, in order to introduce himself. When Mal invited Dex down to Palladio for a visit, Dex asked if it was okay to bring his girlfriend along. Mal said sure, whatever.
And those trips to New York the past couple of weeks, those were trips to see Molly. That one I figured out for myself. He had Dex’s address from Colette, he told me, so he just concealed himself in a restaurant across the street until he knew Molly was alone and then called on his cell phone. They went out for coffee, they went out to eat, and he gave her his pitch. Finally she agreed to leave her old life behind.
I never really got a straight answer as to how old Dex took it when she told him. I know Mal came along, which was standup of him, I have to admit — prudent, too, since Dex did always strike me as a guy with a temper. You wouldn’t send Molly alone on an errand like that.