What about what you feel, Raphaella. What about you?
What about me? I am who I am. I can't change that. I am the wife of John Henry Phillips. I have been for almost fifteen years. I have to live up to that, Alex. I always will.
And for how many of those years has he been' the way he is now?
More than seven.
Is that enough for you? Telling yourself that you are fulfilling an obligation? Does that console you for your lost youth? How old are you now? Thirty-two? You've lived like this since you were twenty-five, Raphaella. How can you? How can you go on?
Slowly she shook her head in answer, her eyes brimming with tears. I have to. That's all. It doesn't matter.
Of course it matters. How can you say that? He walked to her side and looked down at her gently. Raphaella, we are talking about your life.
But there are no choices, Alex. That is what you don't understand. Perhaps that is why the way my mother lives is better. Maybe that's why all of that makes sense. That way, there are no temptations. No one ever gets close enough to force you to make a choice. There are no choices then.
I'm sorry that this is so painful. But why must it be a choice? Why must we talk about all that now? Why can't we just be friends, you and I? I won't ask anything of you. But we could meet as friends, maybe just for lunch. It was a dream and he knew it, and Raphaella did too as she shook her head.
How long do you think that would last, Alex? I know how you feel. And I think that you know I feel the same way too. Something in his heart soared as she said it, and he wanted to take her in his arms, but he didn't dare.
Can we forget that? Can we pretend it doesn't exist? The look on his face said it was not possible.
I think we have to. And then, with a small brave smile, Perhaps in a few years we'll meet again.
Where? At your family's home in Spain, after they lock you up again? Who are you kidding? Raphaella he walked to where she stood and put his hands gently on her shoulders as she looked up at him with those enormous, troubled black eyes that he already loved so much Raphaella, people spend a lifetime looking for love, wanting it, needing it, seeking it, and most of the time they don't find it. But once in a while, once in a great while, it comes to you, it throws itself in your lap, pounds on your door, and says Here I am, take me, I'm yours.' When it comes, how can you turn away from it? How can you say, Not now, maybe later'? How can you take that chance, knowing that the opportunity may never come again?
Sometimes taking that opportunity is a luxury, a luxury one can't afford. I can't afford it right now. It wouldn't be right and you know that.
I don't know that. Would letting yourself love me really take something away from your husband? Would it really make any difference to him in the condition he's in?
It might. Her eyes didn't waver from Alex's and he hadn't taken his hands from her shoulders as they stood facing each other in the center of the room. It might make a very big difference if I grew indifferent to his needs, if I was never around to see that he was properly cared for, if I became involved with you and forgot about him. Something like that could kill him. It might make the difference for him between life and death. I could never fail him like that.
I would never ask you to. Never. Don't you understand that? I told you, I respect your relationship with him, I respect what you do and are and feel. I understand that. I'm just telling you that you have a right to something more, and so do I. And it doesn't have to change anything for you with your husband. I swear it, Raphaella. I just want to share something with you that neither of us has, maybe that we've never had. From what I can gather, you live in a vacuum. And so do I. In some ways I have for a long time.
Raphaella looked up at him with the painful look of decision still in her eyes. How do you know we would even have anything, Alex? Perhaps what you feel is all an illusion, a dream. You don't know me. Everything you think of me is a fantasy.
But this time he only shook his head and lowered his mouth gently onto hers. For an instant he felt her stiffen, but his arms circled her so quickly and so firmly that she could not pull away, and moments later she didn't want to. She clung to him as though he were the last man left on earth, and her entire body began to pulse with a passion she had never known before. And then, breathlessly, she pulled herself from him and shook her head, turning away.
No, Alex. No! She turned to face him with a look of fire in her eyes. No! Don't do this! Don't tempt me with what I cannot have. I can't have it, and you know that! And then she turned away, her shoulders bent, her eyes filled with tears. Please go.
Raphaella' . She turned slowly to face him then, her face distraught, her eyes huge in the sharply etched face. And then it was as though he saw her melt in front of his eyes. The fire went out of her eyes and she closed them for an instant and then walked toward him, her hands going around him, her mouth hungrily reaching for his.
Oh, darling, I love you' .I love you' . His words were gentle yet urgent, and she held him and kissed him with all the pent-up loving of more than seven years. And then, without thinking, he slipped the pink satin bathrobe from her shoulders and knelt to kiss her body as she stood before him, a goddess he had revered from the moment he had first seen her crying on the steps. This was the woman he had longed for, the woman he had needed and almost instantly loved. And as he held her and caressed her Raphaella knew that she was giving herself to him with all of her heart. It seemed hours before they stopped kissing and touching and holding and reaching out and running their hands over each other's skin. She felt her legs tremble below her and then suddenly he swept her into his arms, the pink satin robe left behind them on the carpet, and slowly he walked into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. Raphaella? His mouth formed her name as a question and she nodded slowly, with a small hesitant smile, and he turned off the light and quickly slipped off his clothes and lay beside her.
He touched her hungrily again with his mouth and his hands. She felt now as though she were dreaming, as though this couldn't be happening, as though it couldn't possibly be real, and with an abandon she had never before known, she gave herself to him, her body arching and pulsing and throbbing with a desire she had never even dreamed. And with the same fervor Alex pressed himself to her, his body reaching deep inside her to her very soul, their arms intertwined, their legs part of one body, their mouths holding tight in one endless kiss, until suddenly the final moment of their pleasure burst from them, as together they seemed to soar.
Then they lay quietly together in the soft lamplight, and Alex looked at the woman he knew that he loved. For an instant he was suddenly frightened. What had he done, and what would she do now? Would she hate him? Would it be over? But as he saw the warmth dawning in her eyes, he knew that this was not the end, but the beginning, and as he watched her she leaned closer to him, kissed him softly on the lips, and ran a hand ever so slowly down his spine. His whole body began to tingle, and he kissed her again, and then lay on his side and watched her smile.
I love you, Raphaella. The words were spoken so softly that only she could have heard him, and she nodded slowly, the smile spreading to her eyes. I love you. He said it again, and her smile broadened.
I know. And I love you too. She spoke as softly as he did, and suddenly he pulled her closer again, tightly into his arms, so she could never leave him. And as though she understood, she held him closer. It's all right, Alex' shh' it's all right.
A few minutes later his hands began to caress her again.
Chapter 9
Raphaella? It was only a whisper, as he lay on one elbow looking at her. He wasn't sure if she was awake. But now her eyes fluttered open slowly in the first light of morning, and the first thing she saw was Alex, looking down at her with his eyes full of love. Good morning, my darling. He kissed her then and smoothed the long silky black hair so much like his own. And suddenly she saw him grinning, and she smiled in return.
What are you laughing about so early in the morning?
&
nbsp; I was just thinking that if we ever had children and they ever had anything but jet-black hair, you'd be in big trouble.
Oh, would I? She looked at him in amusement as he nodded.
Yes, you would. He looked at her pensively, a single finger tracing a line around her breasts and down the center of her body to where her legs joined, and then lazily he brought the finger back up again to circle her breasts. He stopped for a moment, a question in his eyes. Don't you want children, Raphaella?
Now?
No. I mean ever. I was just wondering if He hesitated and then decided to ask her. Can you?
I think so. She didn't want to betray John Henry's weakness, so she said no more as he watched her face.
Did you not have any because you didn't want to, or because' for other reasons? He had somehow sensed that she was being discreet.
Other reasons.
He nodded quietly. I wondered. She leaned toward him then and kissed him softly on the mouth. And then suddenly she sat up in bed with a look of terror, glanced at the clock, and stared at Alex with a hand over her mouth.
What's the matter?
My God' I just missed my plane.
He grinned at her, looking unimpressed. I missed mine last night. In fact the grin grew slowly I never even retrieved my luggage from the doorman.
But she wasn't listening to him. What'll I do? I have to call the airline ' I'm sure they have another My God, when Tom goes to meet me at the airport
Alex's brow clouded as soon as she said the words. Who is Tom?
This time it was Raphaella who was smiling. The chauffeur, silly.
Good. Anyway, you can call home and tell them you missed the flight. Just tell them you'll catch He had been about to say the next one, but suddenly he had a thought. Raphaella' what if He was almost afraid to say it, and slowly he reached for her hand. What if we don't go home until tomorrow, and we spend the weekend here together? We could.
No, we couldn't. They expect me' I have to
Why? You don't have anything to do at home. You said so yourself, and one day, or even two, can't make that much difference now. We won't be this free again for a long time. We're here, we're alone, we're together' . How about it? Until tomorrow? He pulled her into his arms as he asked her, praying she'd say yes. But she pulled away again slowly, her face thoughtful, but unsure.
I'd have to lie to them, Alex. And if
If anything happens they both knew he meant to John Henry you can get the next plane back. It's no different than it was all week while you were here with your mother. The only difference is that now you'll be here with me. Please. He looked gentle and boyish, and she wanted nothing more than to be in New York with him, but what about her obligations ' John Henry' . But suddenly she knew that she had to do something for herself this time. She looked up at Alex and nodded. She looked frightened, but excited, and he let out a whoop of joy. Darling, I love you!
You're crazy!
We both are. I'll go take a shower, you order breakfast, and then we'll go out for a walk. But the awkwardness of ordering breakfast for two hadn't occurred to either of them, so she ordered an enormous breakfast from room service, but when they asked for how many, she promptly answered, Service for one. She reported to him as he stood in the shower, and she found herself looking at his body with longing and admiration once again. He was so tall and strong and handsome, he looked like a statue of a young Greek god. What are you looking at, madam? He peeked out at her with water running down his face.
You. You're beautiful, Alex.
Now I know that you're crazy. And then he looked at her soberly for a moment. Did you call home? She shook her head like a recalcitrant schoolgirl and he stood very still in the shower, and the water running over his body made her want to follow it with her tongue. She couldn't think about home now. Home was not real. All she could think about was him. Why don't you go do that now, babe. She nodded slowly and left the room. As she sat beside the telephone the beauty of his body seemed to fade. Suddenly she felt like Mrs. John Henry Phillips again. What lie would she tell them? The operator answered too quickly and she put the call through to San Francisco right away. It was only a moment later when she had the nurse on the line and was told that John Henry was still sleeping, it was only seven o'clock in the morning in San Francisco, and he had not yet woken up.
Is he all right? She was terrified. Perhaps she would be punished. Maybe he'd be worse now and it would be her fault. But the nurse's cheerful voice came across the line quickly.
He's just fine. We had him in the chair for an hour yesterday. And I think he enjoyed it. I read the paper to him for a little while after dinner, and he went right to sleep. Then nothing was different, it all sounded the same as it had been when she left. She explained that she had been delayed in New York with her mother. And she would be flying back to San Francisco the next day. She waited for an instant, almost expecting the nurse to call her a liar and a whore, but nothing happened, and she knew that her mother would never call from Argentina, so there was no reason to think that she would be found out. But she felt so terribly guilty, it seemed impossible that they wouldn't know. She asked the woman to tell Tom not to pick her up at the airport that day and told her that she would call the next morning to tell them what plane she'd be on. It occurred to her that she could take a cab from the airport with Alex, but if she did something like that, then they would wonder what she was up to. She had never taken a cab from an airport in her entire life. She thanked the nurse then, asked her to tell Mr. Phillips that she had called and to tell him that everything was fine, and then she hung up, her eyes quiet, her face grave.
Something wrong? Alex emerged from the bathroom, his hair combed and with a towel around his waist. She looked different than she had a few minutes before when he had told her to go and call home. What happened?
Nothing. I I just called them. She lowered her eyes.
Is something wrong? There was an obvious question in his voice and he looked worried, but she quickly shook her head.
No, no. He's fine. I just She looked up at him miserably then. I just feel so guilty. Alex, I should go back. It was an anguished whisper as he sat down beside her. He sat very still for a moment and then put an arm around her shoulders and held her tight.
That's okay, if that's what you want to do. I told you. I understand. I always will. She looked at him with eyes full of confusion, and he pulled her close to him again. It's okay, darling. Everything is fine.
Why are you being so kind to me? She buried her face in the bare flesh of his shoulder as she asked him.
Because I love you. I told you that last night too. He smiled and kissed the top of her head.
But you barely know me.
Bullshit. I know you right down to the tips of your toes. She blushed then, but she also knew that he had meant it in another sense, a more important one. And oddly, though she had known him for such a short time, she believed him. He did know her. Better than anyone ever had. Even her husband.
Will you be very angry if I go back today? She sounded regretful and let out a long quiet sigh.
No, I'll be very sorry. But not angry. If that's what you have to do, then it's okay.
What will you do? Go back to see your mother or your sister?
No, my mother's in Boston, Kay is in Washington, and my niece has lots of plans for the weekend. I'll go home. Probably on the same flight with you, if we can get seats together. Would that be all right with you? She nodded. Good. He stood up slowly. Then call the airline. I'll go shave. He sauntered back into the bathroom and closed the door as she sat there, feeling as though she had just given up the only thing she wanted in the world. Time with Alex. Together. Just the two of them. Alone. She sat there for a long moment and then walked to the closed door and knocked softly. Yes?
May I come in? He opened the door and looked down at her with a smile that told her again that he loved her.
Of course you can, silly. You don't have to ask. Did you ca
ll the airline?
She shook her head sheepishly. I don't want to.
Why not? He felt his heart pound as he waited.
Because I don't want to go back yet. She looked like a little girl as she stood there, her long hair falling over her shoulders, still tousled from the night before. I want to stay here with you.
You do, do you? He couldn't keep the smile off his face, and he put down his razor and grabbed her with one hand, using the other to grab a towel and wipe the soap from his face. Well, I'd like nothing better. He kissed her long and hard then and took her back to bed. It was half an hour before they had ended their lovemaking and the waiter from room service arrived.
They sat down to breakfast together after the waiter had left them, she in the pink satin robe and he in a towel, the two of them happy and smiling and making plans for the day. It was as though they had always been together, as they divided up the scrambled eggs.
And then I want to go to the top of the Empire State Building, and I want to eat hot chestnuts, and I want to go skating' .
He laughed at her. You sound just like my niece. She loves to skate too.
Then we can go together. But first I want to go to the Empire State Building.
Raphaella! he groaned as he finished his coffee. Do you mean it?
I certainly do. I never get to do things like that!
Oh, baby. He leaned across the table to kiss her. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Then you are blind and crazy and I love you. But she was wondering if she was the crazy one. This was absolute madness. And the maddest thing of all was that she felt as though she had known him all of her life.
Together they devised a scenario whereby Raphaella could retrieve Alex's luggage from the doorman, and when the bellboy brought it upstairs, Alex got dressed as Raphaella took a bath. They stood side by side in the huge closet arranging their things and chatting, and it was very much like a honeymoon, as she remarked to him on their way downtown. He dutifully took her to the top of the Empire State Building, to lunch at the Plaza, and then for a hansom carriage ride in the park. They spent two hours wandering through the wonders of the Metropolitan Museum, and they wandered into Parke-Bernet to watch an auction of French antiques in full swing. And then, happy and relaxed and more than a little tired, they crossed the street to the Carlyle and rode the elevator back up to her room. She was yawning as she took off her coat and hung it up in the closet, and Alex was already lying on the bed with his jacket and shoes off, holding out his arms to her.
a Perfect Stranger (1983) Page 10