Janine nodded. “In a way, it’s true. Rena was always a bit secretive about her boy friends. Though at times she’d tell me things about them that I’m sure they wouldn’t have wanted me to know. But with Alex she never did that. It was as though he were too important to her.”
Mark laughed bitterly. “Important? I’ll say he was important! He’s shaped my relationship with Rena nearly every step of the way. Hardly a week goes by where Rena and I don’t quarrel about something. I always have the feeling she’s comparing me to this mysterious guy in her past. You know: He always did this or that; He wouldn’t have said…” Mark mimicked Rena’s voice harshly. Then his voice softened. “She never told me his name though. Not even when she’d had too much to drink. I’d have doubted he really existed if it weren’t for those times when she was so upset. When that happened I’d spend a long time holding her and trying to calm her down. And sometimes I’d have to sleep over on the couch because otherwise she’d wake up in the middle of the night, terrified because she was alone in the apartment. The first time it happened, it made me take a good look at Rena and realize she wasn’t spoiled so much as just very insecure. And I realized that, given half a chance, she’d be a warm, sweet woman. I wanted to protect her and soon it seemed we had fallen in love with each other. I don’t think I could stand to hurt her either, Janine.”
Janine looked at Mark. They understood each other perfectly. She spoke cautiously, “What if you had decided you couldn’t marry her, after all?”
He replied in the same manner. “I’d have broken it to her as gently as I could. Then I’d have stayed around long enough to find her someone else to be interested in. If I could. Then I’d have disappeared from her life, probably. Or at least long enough for her to get over me.
Janine stared at the ground. “You can’t always avoid hurting someone.”
“You can try,” was all he said, but the tone was final.
The silence stretched until at last Mark said it was time to leave. “Is dinner at your place or mine?” Janine asked, as lightly as she could.
“Neither.”
Janine looked at Mark in surprise, afraid to ask why and be told it was time to say good-bye for good. They got off the Metro at Chatelet and walked to St. Michel. Janine followed Mark silently as he strode through the crowd without a backward glance. He chose, it seemed, the noisiest restaurant he could find, one that forbade intimacy and could not invoke memories of past Sunday dinners. Mark ordered for both of them, brusquely asking Janine’s preferences. When she asked about prices, he said shortly, “I’m paying,” and added wine to the rest of the order.
They talked, of course. It would have attracted attention if they had not. But the topics were unimportant ones and Janine, at any rate, neither heard nor cared what responses she gave. The food was good, but Janine found it difficult to eat. She wished dinner were over and she could be back in the apartment, crying. And she wished it would go on forever so she could stay with Mark, even in this hellish atmosphere. And she wished …no, that was dangerous. She might cry then and there if she let herself think about what she would really like.
Mark, ostensibly, was calmer. Only the rapidity with which he spoke and the general incoherence of his conversation betrayed him. Why couldn’t Rena come back to Paris? Why couldn’t she have returned weeks ago? But men don’t cry, so he wasn’t afraid to drink the wine.
It was sometime later. They had had coffee and lingered a little longer. Now they stood near the doorway outside the restaurant they had just left. Janine was fighting to keep herself calm. She was very much afraid that she knew what Mark would say next. She did.
“I’m going to say good-bye here, Janine. I think it would be better if I did not walk you back to Rena’s apartment,” he said tautly. “I hope you have a very nice trip and perhaps I’ll see you when you stop back in Paris.”
Janine glanced at his face quickly. But it was impassive. There was no indication that the last phrase had any special meaning. It was just one of those phrases one used on such occasions, whether one meant it or not. She nodded, afraid to trust herself to speak.
“Good-bye,” he said again and then there was a brief kiss on her forehead. When she looked-up, Mark was gone.
Janine might have stood there and cried if a couple had not emerged from the restaurant and stared at her as they passed. It was enough. Janine started walking in the general direction of rue Bonaparte. She forced herself not to run, not to think of how she felt. Somehow she made her way home and climbed the stairs. And then the door was shut behind her and Janine stood in the living room. The walls seemed to be spinning around her and she abandoned herself to tears.
It was late morning and her head ached when Janine finally woke. But that wasn’t surprising, considering she had not fallen asleep until the early hours of the morning. Slowly she forced herself out of bed. No matter how she felt, she still had to pack today.
Doggedly, Janine followed her usual routine that began with a trip to the boulangerie for croissants and bread, collecting the mail as she returned. All of the letters were for Rena and Janine added them to the large pile already on the telephone table. Ralph stood beside them, eyeing her severely, and Janine felt too weary to argue.
Coffee helped, but not enough. Well, she thought with a sigh, I have two choices. I can pack and then go out somewhere, or I can go out now and pack this evening. Instinctively, she knew she would not be able to bear the empty apartment after dark. So she would pack now and go somewhere, anywhere, in the evening.
There wasn’t really much to pack, but it took a long time. Janine kept pausing to think about the places in Paris she had visited when she wore this dress or that pair of slacks. Janine had not quite finished when the doorbell rang. Still holding a half-folded skirt, she went to answer it. “Mark!”
“May I come in?” he asked gravely.
Janine, her knees weak, tried to match his tone. “Of course. Sit down. Just let me put this away and I’ll join you.
“Never mind that,” he said, pushing her to the daybed, “I’ve got something to show you.”
As she sat down, Mark handed Janine an envelope. It was open and held a telegram.
HAVE MARRIED ALEX STOP ENGAGEMENT OFF
RENA
Janine looked up at Mark in shock. “But how? When?”
“I just got it a little while ago,” Mark said tonelessly. “She must have run into him in Switzerland weeks ago.
Janine glanced at the message again. “I’m sorry, Mark. And what a horrible way to tell you.”
“Yes, it is rather thoughtless,” Mark said coolly. “If you hadn’t told me, I’d never have known who Alex was.
Janine stared at him. “Don’t you care?”
He answered flippantly. “Of course. My pride is shattered, can’t you tell?” As she continued to stare, Mark said awkwardly, “Do you think you could cancel your reservations? Some of them, I mean? I’ll take you to England and Scandinavia later, if you want. Maybe over Christmas vacation.”
Janine laughed mischievously. “Visit Scandinavia in winter? Are you crazy?”
Mark’s voice was urgent. “Well, next summer, then. Please, Janine? I can’t let you just leave like this…”
Janine laughed again. “Of course I’ll cancel, you idiot!” He relaxed and suddenly she said accusingly, “You would just have let me go, wouldn’t you? If this telegram hadn’t come you’d have let me just walk out of your life.”
Mark sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he said seriously, “No, I’d have done something. Maybe when you stopped back in Paris I’d have been able to tell you I loved you. Or maybe I’d have seen you in New York. But believe me, Janine, I wouldn’t have just let you walk out of my life. I love you too much for that.”
“Do you?”
He flushed as he realized what he had said, then nodded. “Shall I cancel my whole trip?” she asked.
Mark grinned. “No! Only the first part of it. I’ve earned a v
acation and as soon as I can make the arrangements, we’ll leave for Greece and Italy.” He sat down next to Janine and took her hands. “Janine, you do love me, don’t you?”
It was her turn to flush. “Didn’t I say so?” Mark shook his head. “Well, I do,” she said quietly.
He kissed her then, and she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she hugged him tightly. After several minutes she said, “Only Greece and Italy?”
“Don’t be impatient,” he teased. “I have a feeling there will be plenty of time to visit all those other countries in the next forty or fifty years!”
Sometime later, Janine said, “Poor Sandy. He was wrong. There are bells and whistles.”
Paris Summer Page 16