Burnaway

[cont.]
The traffic stood completely still and she could hear ambulances rushing closer.
According to the French, “beginnings are beautiful” and in the beginning it may not have been exactly beautiful but it really had been a hoot. All the dancing and parties, the magical view of the ocean from his new condo. She’d thoroughly enjoyed how their time together progressed into trips in a little private jet, off to have dinner at a cute restaurant in Seattle, long walks along the beach bordering Hanalei Bay with its water the same bice blue that flowed in the fountain that night at Rina’s. It was such a luxury sleeping in at his loft in SoHo, attending Broadway shows, meeting celebrities. All the attention he lavished on her. It really was fun. Lawrence had supplied an easy antidote to her grief. She told herself she hadn’t gone into it expecting it to last. It was a fling, two adults who had lost their spouses who ended up in bed together as a kind of comfort. And it had been a great comfort, a lovely indulgence.
But in spite of that, she still felt deceived. What did you expect? Look in the mirror, she told herself. You are attractive for a woman your age but you can’t compete with the freshness of a twenty two year old – the soft, clear skin, the eyes without all the sharp baggage of history, an innocent eager smile. He is and has always been a man looking for temptation. She intellectually knew that and still got involved with a philandering jackass. Men who cheated were emotionally bankrupt. They hurt everyone around them. Ok, she was angry at him. Messing around with someone young enough to be his granddaughter, for heaven’s sake.
To be fair, it wasn’t totally unreasonable to feel deceived. He really had encouraged her to think he had changed. He told her often enough that he was a different man with her. His friends told her that too. Even his daughter told her that. He had whispered to her often enough how he envied the steadfastness she and Dennis had had. He envied their friendship and trust. Stripes don’t go away, though. While he was making all these plans for the two of them to spend August in Nepal when the gallery was closed and she at last had extended time to get away, telling her how excited he was about the trip, all of the wonderful things they would see and do together, he was banging his assistant.
Even before the necklace, Lawrence’s increasing lavishness had started to concern her. At first she felt pampered. Then she felt pressured. When she had protested, he’d ignored her: he couldn’t stop himself. She had told herself he was simply trying to remedy the mistakes he’d made with Doris. All relationships carry regrets. She and Dennis could have spent more time together instead of working so hard and she had projected this sense of regret onto Lawrence, presuming he felt the same about his relationship with Doris. Lawrence and Doris had led very separate lives. Odessa reckoned that his insistence on bringing friends and clients into the gallery “corrected” that neglect and besides it distinguished him favorably from Dennis’s apathy about art.
Why is it that people, after the end of a relationship, wind up doing with the new partner exactly what the old partner had futilely and desperately wanted to do, whether buying a boat, having a baby, moving to a new place, traveling? It’s as if the “no” becomes the backbone of the relationship, restricting its ability to move, and once the relationship ends, all things become negotiable again. In a new love, all things are permitted.
Once the infatuation fades, though, the willingness to bend slowly disappears as all those thoughtful compromises begin to chafe. You can only hide your true nature for so long. Character flaws don’t vanish simply from wishing and hoping and telling him that you care. The trick really is finding someone who doesn’t mind the flaws, who doesn’t accentuate them, who can spin or camouflage them. Lawrence urgently needed to pretend he was young and virile. Doris’ death had accentuated that. It wasn’t enough to feel young; he needed others to think of him as youthful. It was understandable. No one wants to look older than dirt. Odessa had a shelf of creams to mitigate the wrinkles and colored her hair. She intended to die with honey brown hair. But she had no delusions that anyone considered her a sex kitten any more. She had no need to stay that person.
The necklace, though, Lawrence had really shown his stripes when he badgered her into accepting the necklace. Yes, she had admired the combination of rubies and amethysts, but that didn’t mean she actually wanted to own it. Forcing her to take it meant he presumed he knew what she really wanted. He presumed he knew what was best for her. And the offer of a necklace had a double meaning. It was obvious that he was trying to outdo or supplant the wedding ring on the chain around her neck. That was understandable, but now he apparently expected her to accept his bribe and stay together as he messed around with other women. Did he really think she was so desperate that she would accept these conditions?