The waiter vanished.
Jeffrey tested another smile, didn’t like the feel of it and grew solemn. “I hope this can be a profitable talk, David,” he said hesitantly.
“Me, too.”
“I understand that Edgar spoke to you.”
“That’s right.”
“About Lexie.”
“Lucy.”
“I mean, Lexie’s concerns.”
“Yeah, he talked to me,” Corman said. He tugged his collar down, felt a trickle of rainwater make a jagged dive down his back.
“And I understand that you’re meeting Lexie on Saturday night?”
Corman nodded.
The waiter returned, placed the drinks in front of them and disappeared again.
Jeffrey lifted his glass. “Cheers,” he said.
Corman nodded and drank. “So what’s on your mind, Jeffrey?”
Jeffrey shifted uneasily in his seat. Behind him, a lighted tickertape machine was running off the closing prices from the New York Stock Exchange. American Telephone and Telegraph was up an eighth, but things didn’t look good for the steel industry.
“Lexie is quite unhappy these days,” Jeffrey said softly, casting an eye about quickly to make sure only the anonymous strangers in the Bull and Bear were in earshot.
“She is?”
“Yes,” Jeffrey said. “Particularly about Lucy.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Well, she’s worried about a great many things,” Jeffrey said. “I’m sure Edgar mentioned a few of them.”
“She doesn’t like my apartment,” Corman said coolly. “Lucy’s school, she doesn’t like that.”
“She wants the best for her, David,” Jeffrey said sincerely. “She really does. She wants to protect her.”
“From what? Me?”
Jeffrey laughed nervously. “You? Of course not.”
“The bottom line is that she gave me custody,” Corman said bluntly.
“That’s true.”
“And now she wants custody herself.”
“Yes,” Jeffrey admitted. “I think that’s what she wants.”
“And you’re here to persuade me.”
Jeffrey looked at him, puzzled. “What?”
“I said, you’re here to persuade me,” Corman repeated.
“Persuade you to what?”
“To give Lucy up.”
Jeffrey’s face relaxed. He laughed. “Well, no,” he said. “Not exactly.”
Corman watched him, confused.
“I’m not here to try to get Lucy,” Jeffrey said, still chuckling to himself. “Just the opposite.”
“What?”
“Well, as you can see by my hair, David,” Jeffrey said, finally bringing his laughter to an end, “I’m not getting any younger.” He shifted his head to the right, so that the abundant gray could catch the light. “And, as you know, I already have three children by my first wife.”
Corman nodded. He had never met Jeffrey’s first wife, but he had seen her picture from time to time in the society pages of the paper. She had the look of a woman who had once been beautiful, but whose skin had now dried to a wrinkled crisp, her lips curling down, sagging, along with what was left of her self-esteem.
“I’m fifty-three, David,” Jeffrey announced. “And to tell you the truth, males in my family are notoriously short-lived.”
Corman stared at him expressionlessly.
“My father died when he was sixty-three,” Jeffrey added. “And his father was even younger, fifty-eight.” He shook his head. “Those are biological facts, and in my estimation, they are very good predictors of one’s own life span.”
Corman leaned toward him and stared at him intently. “So what are you getting at?”
“Well, the fact is, when I married Lexie, I didn’t bargain for the possibility of a second round of parenthood.”
“So you don’t want Lucy?” Corman asked.
“Well, that’s not exactly it”
“What is?”
“I want to ease Lexie’s mind,” Jeffrey said. “About Lucy’s surroundings.”
“How could you do that?”
“I’d like to help with some of the expenses,” Jeffrey told him.
“What expenses?”
“Yours, David,” Jeffrey said. “And Lucy’s. The rent, maybe a private school for Lucy, things like that.”
Corman felt his lips part involuntarily and closed them.
Jeffrey leaned forward slightly, fidgeting with the napkin. “I’m a wealthy man,” he said. “I have everything but time. That’s the one thing I’m not rich in.” He took another drink of scotch. “I believe that these are my last years, David, and I want to live them well. I care about Lucy. I really do. And I certainly care about Lexie. I want both of them to be happy, but I don’t want both of them in my house.” He shrugged. “I’m being very frank. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Corman said.
“I’m being selfish, I admit it,” Jeffrey added. “Lexie is a beautiful woman, and I want her to myself.” He lifted the glass again, downed the rest of the scotch. “So there you have it.”
Corman’s eyes drifted up to the ticker-tape scoreboard. If he had money, he realized that he would keep it in a nice little country bank where nobody cared if Ecuador could pay its bills.
Jeffrey called for the waiter and ordered another scotch. “So, what do you think?” he asked. “About my helping out a bit. Just between the two of us, of course. Lexie couldn’t know, and neither could Lucy for that matter.”
Corman actually found himself thinking about it. “How would I explain where the money came from?” he asked, after a moment.
Jeffrey shrugged. “A rich uncle?”
“I don’t think so, Jeffrey.”
“Use your imagination,” Jeffrey said insistently.
Corman shook his head. “No.”
Jeffrey looked at Corman intently. “Does that mean you won’t allow me to help you?”
“I don’t see how it could be arranged.”
Jeffrey eased himself back in his chair, his face now very stern. “David, I have to tell you, Lexie is very, very concerned about the way you live. She’s very concerned about the effect it will have on Lucy.”
Corman listened and said nothing. He wondered how it must feel to see the world as Jeffrey saw it, a place where no prize game was so rare it couldn’t ultimately be sighted through the cross hairs of his checkbook. And yet, there was another side to him as well, and as he watched him, Corman could see it as if in pentimento behind his face. He was scared, as Corman thought Joanna’s husband must be scared, his eyes forever drifting down toward the lump in his groin. Jeffrey had the same, faintly panicked look, time breathing down his neck, sucking up his days, whispering incessantly that he was dying, dying, dying, that he could not afford a single moment’s loss. “I wish I could help you out, Jeffrey,” he said.
Jeffrey looked at him oddly. “Help me out?”
“In this situation,” Corman explained. “With Lexie.”
Jeffrey nodded peremptorily, then looked at Corman solemnly. “Well, I think you should know that she’s getting more and more adamant about this whole thing,” he said. “And I honestly think that she might sue for custody.”
Corman’s fleeting sympathy for Jeffrey’s mortality withered instantly. “She left Lucy,” he reminded him sternly. “Winning her back won’t be easy.”
“She left under difficult circumstances,” Jeffrey said. “And ‘left’ is a little strong. She never really abandoned Lucy.” He smiled tentatively. “She had to find herself. When she did, she fell in love.”
“With you.”
“Yes,” Jeffrey said. “But I understand that in matters of fidelity, you had your own problems.”
“Proving that won’t be easy,” Corman said.
“It’s an old story anyway, David,” Jeffrey said dismissively. “And we both know it. The real question now is what would be best for Lucy. Lexie has one idea. I have another. And I guess you have a third?”