Alexandra Waring

by Laura Van Wormer

  “Mr. Peterson,” the loudspeakers on the ship said, “this is your captain speaking. We believe this may be Jessica Wright approaching on the port-side bow.”

  Sure enough, it was Jessica, cruising in on some sort of long, narrow speedboat, now coasting in on its wake. (Painted along the side of this speedboat, it said—in very flashy lettering, complete with bolts of lightning—”57 SHARK RIVER RAVAGER MIAMI.”) The orchestra struck up the theme of ‘The Jessica Wright Show” and RRROOOMMMBAAARRROOOMMM went the powerful engines of the speedboat as the squinty-eyed, viciously smiling fellow at the controls maneuvered it alongside the ship.

  Holding her high heels in one hand, Jessica stepped up onto the side of the speedboat. “Believe it or not,” she said, reaching up for Denny’s arms, “my virtue is still intact. No thanks to Pancho Villa here.”

  Mr. Squinty laughed through viciously bared large white teeth.

  “Up we go,” Denny said, lifting her onto the ship. (There was scattered applause.)

  “I’m sorry we lost you,” Jessica said, giving Denny a kiss on the cheek.

  “I’m not,” Denny said.

  “I told him you would give him some more money, Mr. Mitchell,” Jessica told Langley, moving on. “Hi, Bill,” she said, giving Denny’s other half a kiss. “Hi, everybody. Hi, Alexandra Eyes,” she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “My,” she added, looking Alexandra over and then pulling her to stand beside her. “Okay, everybody—guess which one of us is the anchorwoman?”

  Everybody roared. Jessica, in a flimsy yellow mini-dress, shoes in hand and her hair wind-whipped à la speedboat, was looking a little like a refugee from a disaster movie.

  Jessica said she was freezing and within moments Alexandra had talked one of the stewards out of his white jacket. Jessica, with her new outfit, went inside with Alexandra to pull herself together, while Jackson announced that they were pulling up anchor.

  “So you’re really going to do it,” Betty said, sliding in to stand next to Gordon at the bar. “I saw the ring—it’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” Gordon said, accepting his drink from the bartender. “Would you like something?”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Betty said, showing him her glass.

  Gordon sipped his scotch, looking at her. She really was looking great tonight. It always surprised him how attractive Betty was when he remembered to look at her. “So where’s Jerry?”

  “Barry,” Betty corrected him. “He’s waiting for me over there.”

  Gordon turned around to look. He was sitting at one of the tables in a corner with two plates of food from the buffet. He turned back to Betty. “He looks like a decent sort of a guy,” he said.

  “He is,” Betty said, reaching for some peanuts in a dish on the bar. “That’s why I don’t seem to like him very much, I think. Why do they put this stuff out? They must hate women—all this junk food does is get us fat.”

  “Run that by me again?” Gordon said.

  She was chewing. She swallowed. “I don’t like him very much and I don’t know why. The only thing I can figure is that it’s because he seems to like me. I don’t know,” she added, shaking her head, sipping her drink.

  Gordon smiled. “We’ll find you a nice guy in London.”

  She looked at him. “Will you?” she asked him, smiling.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she murmured, moving away, “I bet.”

  “I will,” he called after her.

  She only smiled, drifting across the room toward Barry.

  “Having a good time?” Langley asked him, coming up to the bar.

  “Huh?” Gordon said, turning around. “Oh, hi.”

  “Gin and tonic,” Langley told the bartender. He turned, leaning his elbow on the bar. “So, what do you think?” he asked him, looking around the bar.

  “I think it’s great,” Gordon said.

  “Yeah,” Langley sighed, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “It’s too bad my wife missed it.” He looked at Gordon. “Where’s Jessica?”

  Oh, with Alexandra somewhere, I think,” Gordon said. “Jackson wanted some pictures of them—”

  “No, there she is,” Langley said, raising his hand.

  Jessica saw them and made her way over—still in the steward’s white jacket—sipping from a glass with one hand and scooping up an hors d’oeuvre off a waiter’s tray with the other.

  “Hi,” Langley said.

  “Hi,” Jessica said, eating. She pushed her way between them and turned around, resting her back against the bar. Both Gordon’s and Langley’s eyes slipped down to her bust for a second and their eyes met on the way back up, prompting Gordon to turn away, grinning. “This is a great party, Mr. Mitchell,” Jessica said, oblivious to what had just transpired.

  “I’m glad you’re having a good time,” he said.

  “So,” Jessica said, looking at Gordon, “Alexandra Eyes tells me she was playing daughter-in-law today.”

  Gordon smiled. “Yeah. She was great. My parents really like her.”

  “Everybody likes Alexandra Eyes,” Jessica commented, looking to Langley. “Ever notice?”

  Langley nodded, accepting his drink from the bartender. “But it seems like an awful lot of America loves you, Jessica,” he said, taking a big swallow of his drink.

  “Thanks, Mr. Mitchell,” she said. To Gordon, “He’s catching on fast about how to handle us—you notice?”

  It was getting very dark. The lights of Manhattan twinkled, the waters swirled dark, the lights and music of the ship were gentle, exotic. Standing at the railing next to Cassy were Kyle and Dr. Kessler and Mrs. Kessler; they were talking about what, Cassy didn’t know, so lost was she in the mood of the night, in the air, in the light and shadows and sounds of the water.

  “May I talk to you a minute?” Alexandra whispered in her ear.

  Cassy started, turning. “Oh, hi,” she said.

  “Hi,” Alexandra said, voice low. She turned to the others, sliding her hand into Cassy’s. “Will you excuse me if I borrow her for a minute?” And then she pulled Cassy along the deck to a place on the railing where they were comparatively alone. “Okay, then,” Alexandra murmured, turning toward her, releasing her hand and leaning one elbow on the railing. “It’s the moment of truth—I’ve only got about a half hour left.”

  Cassy smiled. “Scared?”

  Alexandra nodded, turning to the railing, looking out across the water. After a while she turned to Cassy, holding her hand up so Cassy could see the ring on it.

  “It’s beautiful,” Cassy said, taking her hand, turning it slightly to see the diamond glitter. Then Alexandra’s hand closed around hers and Cassy looked up.

  They looked at each other for a long moment.

  And then Cassy smiled, pulling her hand away, dropping her eyes.

  “Hi,” Rookie Haskell said, zooming in to lean on the railing next to Cassy.

  “Go away, Rookie,” Cassy said without looking at him, “and we’ll come find you in a minute.”

  “Bye,” Rookie said, sailing off.

  Alexandra lowered her head to the railing, resting her forehead on her hands. “I wish I hadn’t been through this before—announcing my engagement. I wish this felt new, as if I knew this was an irrevocable decision, a done deed, something I could not change.”

  Cassy reached over and patted her on the back. “Everybody gets scared at this point.”

  Alexandra was quietly laughing, head still down on the railing. Her back was beautiful in the light, her arms too. “It makes me wonder what would have happened to me had I married Tyler. Where I would be now. But then, every time I think about that, I wonder why I think I’m someone who should get married.”

  “Gordon’s not Tyler,” Cassy said quietly.

  “And let’s hope I’m not the Alexandra Tyler was engaged to,” she sighed, straightening up.

  Cassy looked at her and Alexandra laughed.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Alexandra said,
touching her arm, “no one’s asked me to run away this time.” She paused and then added, very quietly, her smile disappearing, “No one’s asked me to run away with her this time.”

  Cassy was finding it a little hard to breathe, looking into Alexandra’s eyes like this. But it was important that she say something, and so she tried. “You get married because you want to get married,” she said quietly. “There will always be people wanting you to run away with them, Alexandra. Always. You’re the kind of person people long to have belong to them, probably because they know you never will. So if a wonderful man who loves you very much understands that, the way Gordon does, I think you think long and hard about how much your love for him counts, and the likelihood of ever finding someone like him again.”

  “And it’s what you really think I should do,” Alexandra said. “What you really want me to do.”

  Cassy nodded.

  “Cassy—” Alexandra started to say, reaching to touch her arm.

  “He can give you everything you can’t get by yourself,” Cassy said quickly, turning back to the railing, looking at the lights of Manhattan. “And there is so much more you can have with him-than you could have with anyone else.”

  Silence.

  “Cassy,” Alexandra said.

  Cassy turned to look at her.

  “Don’t worry,” Alexandra said. “I’ve always known what my options are—for the way I want to live. But I want you to know that that doesn’t mean I’ve ever discounted what I’ve felt—or what I might otherwise want to do if I were anybody else but me.” She paused, glancing at some people walking by.

  She looked back at Cassy. “I think I just want to acknowledge something before 1—” She started blinking, rapidly. “I wanted to tell you that I love you very much. And that I’ve never regretted what happened between us—” Her voice faltered and she tried to smile, blinking even faster.

  “Oh, sweetheart-I know,” Cassy said, smiling, giving her a brief hug. Then she stepped back and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I love you too,” she said.

  Alexandra looked at her. “Do you really think it’s going to be okay?”

  “Oh, yes,” Cassy said, nodding. “It’s going to be just fine.”

  “And you’ll always be my friend?”

  Cassy smiled. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

  Alexandra sighed, smiling. “Well, you better be,” she suddenly declared. “Particularly if you’ve got your hat in the ring to be president of DBS. You know,” she added, pointing a finger at her, “for somebody I wanted as my executive producer, you sure haven’t wanted to stay in the job very long.”

  Cassy’s mouth fell open. “How do you know about that?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Alexandra said, throwing her arm through the air, “what kind of reporter would I be if I didn’t know what was going on at my own network?”

  “I’ll have another, please,” Jessica said to the bartender. “But make it vodka over ice this time.”

  “Same here,” Langley said, pushing his glass across the bar.

  “As you were saying,” Jessica said, turning back to him, leaning against the bar.

  “As I was saying,” Langley said, eyeing the front of Jessica’s dress, “Belinda is very difficult to live with sometimes.” He brought his eyes up. “She’s troubled.”

  “And who isn’t?” Jessica asked him, frowning deeply.

  “No, I mean really troubled, Jessica.” He leaned closer to her. “She goes off sometimes—”

  “Mr. Mitchell,” Jessica said, plunking her hand down on his shoulder and pushing him back a few inches, “I hate to ruin a good story, but how would you know if your wife’s difficult to live with?” She reached for her new drink. “Thanks.” To him, as she raised it to her mouth, “You haven’t lived with Belinda since I’ve known you.”

  “Oh,” Langley said, reaching for his drink, “I forgot. You’re pals with Belinda now, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, fuck you,” Jessica said, taking a gulp of her drink. “Do you want to know what I think or not?”

  Langley took a gulp of his drink, shrugging, eyes on her breasts.

  Jessica waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  Langley’s eyes came up.

  “I think you should pay more attention to her,” Jessica said. “Or don’t you like her anymore?”

  Langley looked at her. “I like her fine-but she’s crazy.”

  “I don’t think she’s crazy at all.”

  “You should have been there this morning,” Langley said, banging his glass down on the bar so that some of the vodka sloshed over the side.

  “I think she’s got what they call housewife’s disease,” Jessica said. “That’s what they called it where I grew up.”

  “Belinda’s no housewife,” Langley said, reaching for his drink again.

  “But she’s a human being, isn’t she?” Jessica said, slamming her drink down on the bar this time, making some of the vodka slosh over the side. “You husbands like us just fine until something goes wrong with us inside, don’t you?”

  “That’s a stupid, shitty, fucking lousy thing to say,” Langley told her. “And you don’t know a goddam thing about it.”

  “Then why the fuck are you talking to me about it then?” Jessica asked him.

  ‘Jessica honey,” Jackson said, coming up behind her, “I’ve brought your beau back.” He pulled Jessica’s date, Rob, up alongside her and hitched Rob’s arm to hers. “There now. Pay attention to him and he won’t run off again.”

  Jessica looked at Rob. “How are you?” she asked him in close to a yell.

  “Good,” Rob said.

  “Good,” Jessica said. She looked at Langley, who was staring at her breasts again. “Fuck you!” she told him.

  “What?” Langley said, startled.

  “Creeping catfish, what are you guys drinkin’?” Jackson said, frowning, peering over the rim of Langley’s glass.

  “Relaxer,” Jessica said. “We were trying to get Langley un-uptight, but we’ve overdone it. He’s turned into a scout for Maidenform.”

  “Are you getting drunk, Lang?” Jackson asked him. “Because if you are—”

  “I am not drunk,” Langley said.

  Jessica looked at Rob again. “We’re date-dates, right? For some reason I can’t seem to recall the terms of our relationship from the last time we went out.”

  “You told me I was a stupid son of a bitch,” Rob told her. “Heineken, please,” he told the bartender.

  “Oh, well, sorry,” Jessica said.

  “Sorry for what?” Rob asked her. “I had a great time.”

  “Oh,” Jessica said, forehead furrowing. A second later, squinting at him, “Refresh my memory—are you married?”

  “Uh-huh,” Rob said cheerfully. “My wife lives in Boston. She’s an investment banker. She graduated fourth in her class from Harvard.”

  “Oh,” Jessica said, thinking. A moment later she nudged Rob. “Hey, listen, I think he should be your date,” she said, pointing to Langley. “I think you have a lot in common.”

  “Jessica honey,” Jackson said, “could I trust you to see that Langley eats something?”

  “Talk to Rob,” Jessica advised him, reaching for her glass. “He’s his date—yow!” she said, whirling around. “Nice action back here,” she said to the man who had just fallen down on the floor behind her. “Langley, come here and do something. One of your drunken employees has just been socked a-sluggo.”

  “He’s not drunk,” somebody said. “He’s telling a story.”

  The crush of people around the bar was growing even tighter.

  “What happened to the orchestra?” Jackson said. “Why isn’t anyone dancing? Rob—will you make these two eat something, please?” And he pushed off into the crowd.

  “Hi, Mr. Peterson,” Kate Benedict said, flushed in the face and carrying an empty glass. “Excuse me—could I just get to the bar?”

/>   “Sure,” Langley said, scrunching around her, holding his glass high in the air.

  “Hi, Jessica,” Kate said, standing next to her now. “Margarita, please,” she told the bartender.

  “Hi, Alexandra, Jr.,” Jessica said.

  Kate giggled, weaving slightly.

  “Here,” Jessica said, guiding one of Kate’s hands to the bar. “Hold on. These gale winds at sea can be something.”

  “How you doing, Jess?” Denny said, pushing in between her and Rob.

  “Hi,” Jessica said. She looked past him. “Where’s Bill?”

  “Maybe getting a job,” Denny said. “Kelly’s boyfriend works for Exxon and says they have some geologists on staff in New York.”

  “I love working at DBS!” Kate announced, new margarita in hand.

  “My, my,” Jessica said to Denny, “our little Alexandra, Jr., appears to be a little crocked.” Kate laughed and laughed and Jessica took the drink out of her hand before she spilled it and put it on the bar. She turned to Denny. “I think someone should find whoever it is that’s supposed to be guarding this child.”

  “Leave her alone,” Langley told Jessica, “she’s just having a good time. Barkeep!” he yelled, snapping his fingers.

  “Not with me she’s not,” Jessica said. “Alexandra, Jr.,” she said to Kate, guiding her over to Denny, “listen, Denny’s going to take you and your margarita off to find your beau, okay? Have fun and stay away from me, or I’ll never hear the end of it from your boss lady.”

  “Alexandra’s wonderful,” Kate sighed dreamily.

  “Then go find her,” Jessica said, shooing Kate away.

  “Hi,” Gordon said, coming down the deck toward Alexandra and Cassy.

  Alexandra turned. “Hi,” she said, stepping back from the railing.

  He slid his arm around her, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. “Some catch, huh?” he asked Cassy.

  Cassy smiled. “Yes.”

  He looked at Alexandra. “What’s the matter? Cold feet?” he asked her.

  She smiled slightly, nodding.

  “Me too,” he said, putting his other arm around her and giving her a hug.

  “Everybody happy?” Jackson asked, grabbing the microphone on the orchestra stage.