That’s how their relationship started, filled with love scenes into which Victor invested a good part of himself. He wanted to make an impression, to make Madeleine feel happy and content in every aspect: he knew that it wouldn’t go unnoticed at the campus or in the condo. The latter was extremely important to him because, deep inside, he believed that Madeleine would spill the beans out of sheer happiness, one way or the other, and that some of their secrets, as it usually happens when women start confiding in each other, would reach Donna’s ears; if not directly, then at least indirectly. The minute Madeleine boastfully told someone that Lord was an ideal man, a guy that’s equally exciting in bed and outside of it, it would most definitely catch Donna’s attention: only a girl with no heart would respond to all of that with a negligent wave.
However, it should be kept in mind that the majority of feelings Victor expressed towards Madeleine was honest. He wouldn’t behave like a common jerk and cheat on her at the very beginning. Besides, Madeleine was unusually kind to him when he was upset, depressed or angry, and that kindness was even more accentuated by her new look. She took an effort to have a total makeover, and the new way she dressed and made-up even made her attractive. Her heavy, platinum-blonde hair that Victor had always found hideous, soon became reddish, the bell-bottomed dresses were replaced by tight slacks which showed off her height and slim figure, and her rigid, no-name shoes turned into trendy Italian pumps. Without a doubt, she truly cared about her relationship. She looked OK, one could say – cute. However, not OK and cute enough for Victor to dedicate himself entirely to her.
Something entirely different and much more beautiful was on his mind.
The more time he spent in Madeleine’s room, the more convinced he became that Donna’s beauty was flawless. Eventually they grew close, almost inseparable: whenever he took Madeleine to the cinema or theatre, he would always buy a third ticket – for Donna. The three of them would spend hours in endless conversation, they studied together, or strolled through the city searching for a cute fashion accessory. It seemed that all three of them were happy and pleased: Donna because of her new way of life, Madeleine because of her relationship with Victor, and Victor because his plan was developing smoothly. But, none of them confided their deepest secrets to the other two, secrets that burdened them like a horrifying nightmare.
And then, on a cold Friday, everything burst into a hundred pieces like a kiddy balloon, without a hope that those pieces would come together to form the same picture ever again. It was like a thunder, a devastating earthquake, or an unstoppable flood. In five minutes’ time, the story suddenly took on another direction, everything resurfaced like a big marine buoy.
That evening, as always, Madeleine, Donna and Victor were sitting in the room, casually discussing yesterday’s theatrical premiere, when someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” Madeleine asked.
“Surprise”, said the voice on the other side.
The door opened, revealing two men: an older, shorter one with a gray, well-kempt moustache, and the other of Victor’s age, with bristly hair, a protective smile and a face tanned from the strong, tropical sunlight.
“Daddy!” Madeleine jumped and hugged the older, shorter man, and then she turned to the younger one, throwing herself into his arms and uttering: “Andrew, I never dreamed of seeing you today.”
“I wanted to surprise you. Today I caught a flight from Frankfurt and landed at LaGuardia. I wanted to see you as soon as possible. I disembarked in Singapore two day ago. The ship had had a minor mechanical breakdown, so I’m looking forward to spending Christmas holidays with you”, Andrew responded in a festive mood, putting his arms around Madeleine’s waist.
She stood there stiff and motionless, almost lost. Pointing at the older man, and then at the younger, she just stuttered: “Let me introduce my dear guests to you: this is my Dad, and this is my fiancé Andrew Trenton, a.k.a. Captain Seaborne.” Then she turned towards Donna ans Victor, boldly saying: “This is Donna and her boyfriend Lord.”
After that, her lips froze in marble silence.
Neither Donna nor Victor looked much better: they both bent on their chairs with a sort of confused uneasiness. Listening to all of that, they felt ashamed and somewhat idiotic. The scene and events in the room were so shocking to them that they almost looked as if they just stepped out of a coffin. They barely greeted the two men: they did it stiffly, almost irritably.
“We’ll steal Madeleine for a few days”, her father said to Victor and Donna, then turned to his daughter and added: “I parked nearby. Can you get ready in twenty minutes? We wouldn’t want to come across a snow blizzard in Virginia.”
“I’ll be ready in twenty minutes”, Madeleine said, smiling. But, her confused, faked smile suddenly became nauseous and comical. Just like everything else that went on in the narrow student condo.
After less than half an hour, Donna and Victor were alone, still under a great impression from the sudden visit, puzzled and completely lost. The recent scene – the warm encounter of Madeleine and her fiancé Andrew Trenton – was burning in Victor’s brain like a huge torch from hell. For the first time in his life, he felt like a common fool, like a thirsty ass that had just been taken across the water, like a total idiot and a snotty charlatan that got what he wanted.
“I feel pathetic and defeated”, he suddenly uttered.
Donna, spiritless, shaken, was still silent. She kept asking herself about the events that had just taken place. Was this actually a cheesy movie or a stupid theatre play? Or was it, maybe, a cheap romance novel with terribly confused protagonists? What really happened here?
She finally spoke, albeit ironically:
“And I? I feel, how should I put this… I feel like I’m standing at the altar, and I’ve never met the groom… Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“Yes… Of course… Actually, not quite”, Victor said, laughing.
“This was a perfect performance. I’d get lost in it”, Donna admitted.
“This is Captain Seaborne, my fiancé, and this is Donna and her boyfriend Lord”, Victor repeated Madeleine’s words, not without deep irony in his voice, and then he concluded: “I think that Countess is a really brave and resourceful girl. However, now it’s pointless to keep asking ourselves who turned out to be brave and resourceful, and who became a fool and a sucker. I feel like taking a long walk to breathe in some fresh air. Is my friend Donna up to joining me in a night walk through the streets of New York? Or will she let me dry up like a spring in the desert sand?”
She gave him that famous, wide smile of hers that had the ability to raise the dead. She smiled and tapped her index finger against his forehead:
“Say, you really are ridiculous”, she said, not hesitating to stretch out her hand to him, filled with a sort of rapturous pleasure: “You don’t really think I’m some sort of a heartless female monster who only enjoys feeding on male anguish?”
While she was saying those words, her face was overwhelmed with heartiness and affection, sensitive, beautiful and translucently radiant.
“I think that Countess has given me a lesson as if I were a common brat”, Victor said while they were walking down the street. The sharp, icy wind was blowing along the concrete blocks, gratifying his lungs, inexorably cleansing the grime and bitterness out of him like a steal broom. He wasn’t bitter because Madeleine had just left him stranded; in a way, he wanted that to happen. He was more struck by the fact that his male pride was horribly, ruthlessly hurt. And in front of Donna, of all people! He asked her: “Did you know that she was engaged?”
“No. She never told me that”, Donna answered, avoiding a puddle of rainwater on the asphalt. “Tonight’s the first time I’ve ever heard of Andrew.”
“So, what now?” Victor said more to himself, and then added in a more cheerful voice: “We shouldn’t despair over this, should we? Countess is not the only woman in the world. There are countless more beautiful and nicer ones
, maybe even more honorable ones. In fact, I don’t resent her anything. She behaved like that because the circumstances were convenient…”
“I’d say that she couldn’t resist. Everyone here talked only about Lord. Just a yearning glance from you was good enough for her, to show any sign for her to give in. Actually, I don’t resent her anything. A woman’s soul is timid and secretive, elusive and sensitive. Who knows how other women would handle this situation.”
Donna was now a step or two ahead of Victor, so breezy and upright that he wanted to catch up with her silently, grab her by the shoulders and whisper something crazy and passionate in her ear. But, he controlled himself and just said:
“We were a great team. It’ll be harder for me being without you than being without Madeleine: I’m not committed to her anymore, but I owe you big time. No one has ever been as patient to me as you were. You deserve more than a polite ‘goodbye’ and ‘thank you for putting up with me all this time’. You deserve much, much more than common gratitude.”
No matter when she first started to feel something towards Victor, she overcame her demureness that very night on the streets of New York. That secluded, seemingly cold soul was carried away by a passionate feeling for the first time. She stopped in front of him for a moment and seductively said:
“We’ll think of something, Victor. We’ll definitely think of something.”
“You should call me Vic, that should do it.”
“OK, Vic. I’ll call you however you’d like me to.”
While she was speaking, the decisive sound of her voice was mysteriously blending with a tangible silence surrounding them. We’ll think of something, we’ll definitely think of something – echoed in Victor’s ears like the most wonderful music. He had an unclouded feeling that the thing on Donna’s mind was identical to his secret thoughts: he now started to act confused, with his head in the clouds, but with his heart in the right place.
He softly touched her warm, soft hand, and then he squeezed it firmly: she was just seemingly reluctant.
While she was looking at him, Donna managed to catch Victor’s glance. It seemed to her that she saw a strange reflection of liking and affection, something she would never expect from a somewhat crude man she had thought Victor Nash to be at the very beginning. Donna smiled at him coyly, but sincerely. She felt extremely close to him at that moment. The outside world vanished, and the two of them were left as stranded as the inhabitants of a desert island.
“I’m hungry”, Victor suddenly said. “Let’s find the nearest restaurant”, he added.
“I’m not exactly used to having dinner at this time of night”, Donna responded.
“Please, don’t say no to me. I’ll die of hunger, and you’ll be responsible for that. Imagine how you’d feel when my friends accuse you of not letting me to eat something, ‘And now the poor guy is dead’. How would you feel?”
Donna laughed and raised her arms in impotence, while he continued:
“Save the man from hunger, Donna. Go have dinner with me even if you end up fifty pounds overweight. When someone’s life is at stake, stubbornness is completely irrelevant.”
The dinner was really delicious and Donna had to congratulate Victor for choosing a great restaurant. She was relieved to realize that she wasn’t as tense as she had been when they went out of the condo.
“I see that you’re horrified by dinner”, Victor said when the waiter removed their plates.
“Maybe you won’t believe me, but I have no objections. The food was excellent. Besides, I’m not picky at all. In fact, I enjoyed it.”
“I’m glad I’ve put you in a serene mood. That should mean that you’re not having a bad time with me”, Victor said.
“I’d much rather talk about you”, Donna decided to change the subject.
“About me? Well, there’s nothing much to talk about.”
“You’re all alone. Your love has left you”, she said somewhat tricksy.
“I’ll think of something. Maybe a storm will develop in my life. Suddenly and unexpectedly”, Victor replied, looking straight into Donna’s eyes.
* * *
A real, true love that makes a human being believe in the power of destiny happens only once in a lifetime.
There really is something destined in all of this, Victor thought that Sunday morning when he woke up next to Donna’s half-naked, fragrant body. He enjoyed its ravishing daze, unable to calm down his burning desire, not even for one second. Dear God, she was so beautiful: she was beautiful while laughing, while taunting him with her bare shoulders, her curly hair, her discreetly made-up face, her tight, ebony white breasts, her ardent groin…
She was beautiful whenever she did something, even something completely simple like, for instance, drinking her morning coffee. He felt that fateful connection deep within himself. He felt that he and Donna weren’t connected because of his male subtlety, or his brains, or his sexual experience, but rather because of destiny and destiny alone.
He knew that things would have taken another course if Madeleine’s father and her fiancé, Captain Seaborne, hadn’t showed up at the door of the student condo that autumn night. He knew how things would have turned out if he had stayed at home that Friday, or if he had simply been late for the date with his Countess.
That whole emotional agony would continue with much more consequences, and it probably wouldn’t have such a swift and somewhat unexpected outcome. If, by any chance, destiny hadn’t intervened, Victor could have imagined a nastier ending of his relationship with Madeleine – her, sobbing inconsolably because he was leaving her forever, Donna being by her side because that was expected of her, and himself, tormented by all of that and seeking the best and the simplest way to get out of the disgusting quagmire into which he had so foolishly pushed himself. This way, everything happened fast, painlessly and beneficially to everyone involved: Madeleine went her own way, Donna became his, and he already enjoyed her perfect femininity all day, every day.
Winter and early spring passed by quickly like a night bus. The snow on the surrounding mountains melted quickly, the sun was warmer and shinier, and the thick morning fogs became sparser. In those three or four months, the life of Victor Nash indeed changed for the better: he met Madeleine only two or three times, accidentally, on the street. Their conversation was short, cold and somewhat forced, but without anger or hate whatsoever. She told him she was pregnant, that she would soon have the name Trenton because she was getting married in the summer and definitely moving to the West Coast afterwards because Andrew got a well-payed job on a passenger ship. She then added:
“Let’s say I went too far, over the limits of my abilities, but that’s a kind of cruelty we all have to be ready for. I had a clear idea about everything, even a strong urge, but I lacked more courage to choose you instead of Andrew.”
It was obvious that she had a hard time because of everything that had happened between them, but that she was willing to forget and suppress it as soon as possible. She looked restless and heavy-hearted, exhausted and somewhat lost. She also moved to another student campus.
Although she knew that Victor and Donna were a couple, she never asked him anything about it, nor did she ever make clear that she was resentful about that relationship. Besides, from those few spoken sentences, it was clear to Victor that Madeleine had guilty conscience of some sort, but he couldn’t figure out the reason: was it because she left him, or because she was marrying Andrew – or was it because of something completely different that was still buried in the abyss of her mysterious soul?
On a Tuesday afternoon – when trees started blossoming, and people started wearing light shoes instead of winter boots – Victor came to Donna’s condo and immediately asked:
“What’s French for Donna?”
Curious, but unable to recognize what he was trying to say, she responded with a counterquestion: “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on, I know you know it! Do French have a name similar
to Donna?”
She thought about that for a second, and then she answered: “Well… Donna means ‘a woman’ in Italian. So, that would be ‘la femme’ in French.”
“Complicated. Really complicated”, he said, somewhat disappointed. “And how do you say ‘my only one’? No! Let’s try ‘my dear’. How would you say ‘my sweet, my beloved, my cutie-pie’?”
She laughed, tilting her head like a puppy marveling a cat: “You can say ‘sucre’, that roughly means ‘cutie-pie’. Or literally, ‘sugar’.”
“That’s better. That’s much, much better! Forget French. From now on, I’ll call you Sugar. You’ll always be my Sugar!”
The relationship with Donna made Victor change completely. He became more mature and responsible, one coud say that he became an adult over night and established some kind of natural balance. He even started to deal with his exams, and he promised his parents that he would finish his studies as soon as possible.
He was busy, extremely busy, with long-term plans he finally started to see clearly. He started investing everything into a secure, foreseeable future, and he knew that his Sugar was his most valuable treasure. Even his parents, usually reluctant towards many of his decisions and love affairs, supported him in everything and promised their help in any way. They also acknowledged Donna for succeeding in making him more mature and serious, which was a challenge unattainable by many women before her. Victor’s father Peter, a strong character, a first-class lawyer, let Donna occasionally sleep over at their mansion on Fifth Avenue, although he sometimes did express that strange, grotesque vanity that was typical of rich, New York-born people. Victor considered it a good sign. That’s why that Sunday – already half-way through spring – as he observed Donna sleeping in his bed, he realized the complexity of truth he was unexpectedly confronted with. He couldn’t even think of disappointing his father, let alone doing something that would be insulting to Donna…
The Lover from Fifth Avenue (The Greatest Love Stories) Page 2