The Lover from Fifth Avenue (The Greatest Love Stories)

by Natalie Ansard

  Nevertheless, the need to be loved and respected by his family was most important to him. Praises addressed to him, cordialities, expressions of deep admiration for the things he did more successfully than others – he shared all of those with his mother, his father and Donna, his Sugar. She was also happy and only three exams away from graduating. However, she was forced to put down her books for a while: she was already four months pregnant. She gradually and deliberately neglected her own career in Victor's favor, and the imminent walk towards the altar totally threw her off balance. Total chaos ensued in her head, although there really weren't any reasons for it: she had been living with Victor and his parents in their house on Fifth Avenue for some time now, their lives were already practically joined together; all they had left to do was that last formality at the altar. But to her, marriage was an act of God and she lived for nothing else.

  The abundant, luxurious wedding, held after weeks of hectic preparations and scheduled for the end of May, was held in the Diamond Hall of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, in accordance with the social status of the Nash family. All of Victor's acquaintances, relatives, old friends of the family, Donna’s family – her mother Ann, her sister Janice, Janice’s husband Paul and their two-year-old daughter Marcia – attended the wedding, including numerous other guests invited by Donna and Victor. It was some sort of an all-inclusive gala, so some hotel guests also joined the celebration after midnight. All in all, the hall became too small for everyone; people were dancing and rejoicing even in the hallways, almost creating a household atmosphere.

  The deafening celebration was moved to the mansion on Fifth Avenue right before dawn. Following tradition, Victor carried his beautiful, veiled bride to the second floor that was furnished for the newlyweds: there were two nurseries and a bedroom, a sitting room with a dining area, an American-style kitchen and a huge bathroom with a jacuzzi. It took four taxis to deliver numerous presents, given to Donna and Victor by their guests, from the hotel to the mansion. They received all sorts of gifts: from small, bizarre objects like porcelain statues and ceramic plates, to exceptionally expensive things like paintings, carpets, crystalware and jewelry. Throughout the festivity, Donna wore a gorgeous, massive golden necklace, a gift from Victor that almost covered her entire neck. Next to the wedding ring, she had a discreet diamond ring worth a small fortune.

  That’s how Donna and Victor left the student campus behind the Pan Am Building, more or less forever, even though they visited those few friends that were still there – more driven by nostalgia than by a real need – for the next couple of months. However, this habit of theirs became more and more seldom. Lawyer Victor Nash and his beautiful wife made bold moves: they gradually severed their connections with their old lifestyles and prepared themselves for a new adventure. Efforts to increase his wealth, to strengthen his social status, to maintain his business reputation and to promote his young wife as a status symbol of the city – those were the obligations that dragged Victor Nash away from the familiar paths, guiding him towards a new one that he was still getting used to.

  The lifestyle change was also noticeable in Donna’s behavior: she devoted herself to family life, slowly neglecting old friends and having difficulties in attaining new ones. When she gave birth to a baby-girl, Sarah, who completely shattered all household stereotypes in less than seven months, Donna committed herself entirely to the child and became almost fanatically obsessed – Victor took every chance to remind her not to forget about herself. However, every time he did that, she would respond:

  “There’s nothing more beautiful and joyful than spending the day with Sarah.”

  Next year, in autumn, Donna was pregnant again. She had minor problems during the pregnancy so the doctor advised her to stay in bed until the baby was due. She endured everything patiently and gave birth to a son: they named him Winston after Donna’s father, whom she never met because he had died in a shipwreck when she was only eleven months old. Sarah and Winston became the true rulers of the mansion, but not because Donna and Victor wanted it, but because it was Grandpa Peter and Grandma Margaret’s wish. They would spend winters together, in fashionable South American and European ski-resorts, and summers in Hawaii or Florida – mostly in their Florida summer house.

  At first, everything was like a crimson dawn or wildest dreams: Victor was working hard, making more and more money, while Donna raised Sarah and Winston with motherly love. She was a true, loyal hearth-keeper: Victor’s parents would step in those rare occasions when she wanted to go shopping or to have a coffee with her friends.

  But, as the kids grew, they spent less and less time around the house. Peter and Margaret Nash were getting old faster than both of them expected: their age dizzyingly toppled on their shoulders and they became less and less able to take care of themselves, let alone their grandchildren. Donna wanted to help them, but they would always refuse, saying:

  “Your youth is going to fly by. We’ve become aware of it just now. Don’t bury yourself in the house: you and Victor have a lot of things you can still do together. In a few years, the kids will start leading their own lives. Soon enough, we’ll be gone, and you’ll be left on your own. And you’ll have nothing but each other.”

  They were right. However, Donna wasn’t aware of that even in the next few years, when their words started to make sense. She saw less and less of Victor and the kids, she would wander around the house more often, she could neither find pleasure anymore in reading a good book in the garden, nor in the endless conversations with her sister Janice over the phone; almost over night, anxious solitude occupied her soul like a threatening herbal parasite.

  She once caught herself sitting in front of the mirror, gazing at her pale face and joyless eyes, slightly neglected hair and lips stretched into a wry smile. She saw a picture described in a book she was reading: “As she ran her fingers across her forehead, she shuddered at the sight of her fingernails: they were uneven, cracked and with a few crescent-shaped clusters of dirt on nail tips. She quickly grabbed manicure scissors and a nail file so as to fix them up. Then she took some red nail polish and applied two coats. But what was it worth, she asked herself, if her soul was shrouded in a shade of black, dark-brown or grey – she herself couldn’t determine the color. Really, what was it worth?”

  That’s exactly how she felt, like the heroine of this book, the only thing that was keeping her company. At the same time, she realized that Victor – probably burdened with hard work – changed considerably: he was sneaking out of the matrimonial bed like an intruder, his flatterings became seldom, his embraces powerless and his caresses bleak; when she would complain about it from time to time, he would react with coarse laughter and shoulder-shrugging, accompanied by some cliché regarding female intelligence.

  Oh, God, some destinies are so alike, Donna said to herself, thinking about the heroine. They were both going through a rough time. It seemed to her that Victor was less and less interested in her. She was too proud to confess her misery to one of her few friends, so she liked to imagine that this was a brief, passing phase and that her Victor was as faithful to her as dawn was faithful to the sun.

  She couldn’t escape the truth she saw in that book: “The monotony of marriage kills any inclination of love, if there ever even was any. There was no doubt in the latter. She loved him with the same, constant passion, even after all those years. However, tiny cracks had started to manifest with time. When she started to think about everything in a more profound and serious manner, unusual thoughts and conclusions came to her mind: she didn’t work, and marriage in which partners are well off enough to afford not having a double income is soon to become completely boring. First of all: boredom also entails certain dissatisfaction between the sheets. Secondly: the matrimonial bed is undoubtedly the most important foundation of happiness in sharing life together. Thirdly: spending life together is unimaginable if one of the partners is persistent in hiding something. And finally: that ‘something’ can only be infideli
ty…”

  That’s exactly what the book said; to Donna, it seemed that it described her own life. The peculiar circle thus closed: it was more than enough for Donna to get suspicious. She meticulously started to analyze every fragment of their life over the past months, maybe seven to eight at most. It seemed to her that this wasn’t the life they had led at the very beginning of marriage. Of course, she immediately acknowledged the fact that the power of man’s love for a woman will eventually fade, but surely not as evidently and swiftly as in this case. He was acting a bit strange: first he started to forget some important dates from their life together, then he started to demonstrate arrogance in everyday conversation, he came home at dawn a few times refusing to explain his whereabouts, she caught him lying on two occasions – he would say that he was in the courtroom, but it turned out later that he flew to Boston; in the past two months, he would get an occasional phone call from a strange woman who wouldn’t introduce herself; the relationship he had with his parents grew cold… His attitude towards the kids was the only thing that didn’t change: although he seldomly talked to them, he was very calm, relaxed and fatherly towards them.

  Donna was trying to alter his mood in every possible way. First, she decided to improve her everyday appearance. She underwent a couple of luxurious cosmetic, hair and spa treatments. She bought a few suits, dresses and slacks. She gave particular attention to underwear because she knew that Jason had a soft spot for it. She bought some at a lingerie boutique on Broadway, hoping it would be enough for Victor to regain his old self. She tried to cheer him up with quirky witticisms. One night, she surprised him while he was getting ready for bed:

  “I wrote you a love poem.”

  “I didn’t read it”, Victor replied.

  “You couldn’t have because I haven’t even given it to you.”

  “Well, I couldn’t expect anything else from you.”

  “Maybe you expected beauty? Or something more specific. Maybe I can give you something else instead of the poem, something you love the most. My warm thighs.”

  “I’m tired, Sugar. I’ve had a rough week. I have a strong headache. We’ll talk tomorrow or the day after…”

  Then he gave her something more similar to flabby lip-touching than an actual kiss and turned his back away from her, with his arms under his head and his legs aimlessly stretched.

  * * *

  Winston was already shaving; Sarah was a blossoming young girl with two small breasts that she carried around gently and carefully as if they were a pair of precious diamonds. Donna was still devoted to dreams of finally putting her marriage on the right tracks. Committed to those dreams on daily basis, she convinced herself that this mud stain in her life could be rinsed with a solution of candid feelings, passionate longings, fanatic loyalty and complete carnal devotion.

  In the meantime, Victor was still pretending to be very busy, but it was more than obvious that he was aware of the fact that the unity of their matrimonial bed was seriously damaged. While he staggered through his own reality like a total stranger, seeking any exit, any kind of door that would guide him toward the light, their marriage was slowly falling apart.

  There was something strangely mutilated and stiff in his everyday behavior; his forehead was laden with heavy thoughts, and a painful smile increasingly appeared under his wide, red nose. It seemed as if something anguishing and dirty was inevitably crushing and poisoning him. It might look ridiculous, but it was true: every time the phone rang, he would tremble and twitch like a trapped snake. Donna’s behavior wasn’t any more normal than his, especially if the phone rang on Sunday mornings. Lately, maybe in the last two or three months, she had had a few bad and unpleasant experiences, so it was understandable that the weekend phone calls made her slightly neurotic. That was what happened on a sunny Sunday when the phone rang around eleven. They were just about to take a walk in the city and have lunch at Navaro afterwards. Sarah was in Texas with her friend Margo, Winston was in Memphis attending a rock concert, and Victor’s parents were in their Florida summer house. Donna happened to pick up the phone because Victor was in the bathroom. A female voice said:

  - I’d like to speak to Mr Nash, please.

  - Senior or Junior? – Donna asked.

  - Victor! I’d like to talk to Victor!

  - Is this a formal or a personal call?

  - Personal.

  - And may I ask who this is?

  - A friend of his.

  - Look, lady, you should know very well that it’s extremely impolite to ask for someone, claiming that it was a private matter, without introducing yourself – Donna said while she was boiling on the inside. She was ready to hang up regardless of the consequences.

  - I know that – the woman responded, and then added: - But you haven’t introduced yourself to me.

  - Excuse me? – Donna was unpleasantly surprised. She felt as if she had just woken up from a terrible nightmare because she suddenly got a strong headache; she had to lean against the table. Although the pain was terrible and unexpected, she managed to utter: - This is Victor’s wife.

  - Oh, I see – the stranger calmly retorted and said: - I think I know you. But unfortunately, I can’t handle this with you. I need to speak to Victor because this concerns only him.

  - I don’t want you to speak to him until you tell me who you are. And another thing: now I also want to know the reason you’re calling him – Donna said in an angry voice.

  - That means I can’t speak to him for one second?

  - Not even for one second – Donna decisively said.

  - Well, OK then. I’ll call him some other time – the stranger replied and hung up.

  Donna was still holding the phone in her hand, twisting and writhing from pain that was becoming stronger and more unbearable. The sudden pain started spreading to her heart and stomach. When Victor got out of the bathroom on the other side of the house – he couldn’t hear the phone ring from there – he saw Donna stationary leaning against the wall with the phone still in her hands. He had an idea of what had happened, but he hectically sought the way to gain time in order to resolve the situation in the best possible way.

  - Sugar! – he cried and grabbed her around the waist. – What happened? You look terrible. For God’s sakes, what happened?

  - She called! – Donna answered in a voice portending a forthcoming storm. – She called again!

  - Who’s she? You’re exaggerating, Sugar! Imagining things! Haven’t I told you not to talk to lunatics?! – Victor was yelling in a very restless voice.

  Donna angrily slammed the phone on the ground, violently pushed Victor away, and started to tear her clothes neurotically, frantically yelling:

  - Oh, God, what are you doing to me…? What are you doing to me, Vic…? This is what I get for everything… For being nice… For being a good wife… For everything I’ve given to you… For the sacrifices I made… Oh, God, what are you doing to me…? What are you doing to me, Victor…? What… what… what…? – her screams echoed throughout the whole house.

  She started crying loudly and hysterically; she just slid down the wall and helplessly folded her legs under her trembling body.

  Victor kneeled next to her, gently caressing her wet cheeks.

  - Sugar, that woman is mad… I’ve told you that before.

  She harshly pushed away his hand and cut him off in mid-sentence:

  - You’re lying, you’re lying to me again. You’ve been lying too long for me not to notice.

  He tried to touch her face again, but she flinched as if she was afraid of him.

  - Leave me alone. I want to die…

  - Sugar, please! Calm down.

  - Oh, God, why are you lying to me…? – she was sobbing in despair.

  - I’m not lying to you, believe me… It’s some sort of a madwoman… She’s been stalking me for months…

  - Who is she?

  Victor got up and made a few steps around the room. Then he returned to Donna and started ca
ressing her hair, saying:

  - OK, I’ll tell you everything. Let’s have a seat and talk like normal people. What do you say?

  She nodded her head in agreement. Victor grabbed her under her arms, raised her to her feet and guided her to the table. He sat across from her and lit a cigarette. She immediately noticed that and asked:

  - I thought you’ve given up smoking…?

  - I have, but today is a special day.

  - Come on, tell me, what came between us that destroyed our marriage and made us so indifferent? – she asked him, still teary-eyed.

  He nervously got up from the table, sensing an awful spasm in his thoughts and his heart. He barely managed to answer:

  - I guess I’m not much of a husband.

  He went to the window and started gazing at the garden through drawn curtains, followed by her confused look. He was silent for a while as if he was gathering strength; Donna was still looking at him; her breath was short and fast.

  - God forgive me, I can’t refrain myself from screaming! – she said angrily and furiously.

  - Who can? – Victor disappointedly replied. – Tell me, who can?

  - I’m begging you to tell me what’s going on with us. Otherwise… - she said brusquely, stretching her index finger which turned her words into a strong threat – Otherwise, I’ll go crazy.