Evan Hunter - Far From the Sea

The phone rang.

He lifted the receiver.

“Hello!” he said sharply.

“David?” Molly said. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“You sound...”

“I just had a long talk with Kaplan. I saw my father a half-hour ago, he looked terrific. So that stupid bastard starts asking me about autopsy.”

“I’ve been wondering when you’d get angry.”

“I’m not angry, I just wish they’d make up their minds .”

“Who, David?”

“ All of them! The doctors, my father...”

His voice trailed.

“David?”

“If he’s going to die, I wish he’d hurry up and do it.”

Molly said nothing.

“Or get better,” David said. “Either way.”

Still, she said nothing.

“I was going to call you,” he said.

“I thought you might have gone out to dinner.”

“No, I haven’t eaten yet. I just got out of the shower.”

“ Will you be going out?” she said.

“Yes.” He paused. “How about you?”

“I’ve already eaten. I may go to a movie.”

“Well, I’ll call you in the morning then.”

“Yes, all right,” she said.

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night,” she said.

How very accommodating we’ve both become, he thought. How very adept we are at understanding each other’s shorthand. We will not speak to each other until tomorrow morning because neither of us wants any surprises tonight. What surprises? he wondered. There are no more surprises. Our marriage is as predictable as death.

But my father may yet survive the night, he thought.

“Sorry i took so long,” the waiter said. “Slight emergency in the kitchen.”

“Oh? What sort?” Hillary asked. “Not a fire or anything, I hope.”

“The Cubans are arguing,” the waiter said.

“The Cubans?” David said.

“The chef and his assistant.”

“They’re Cubans? ” David said.

“Yes, but they know how to cook Italian.”

“I’m sure,” Hillary said, and arched her eyebrows.

“Anyway, here’s the wine, sir,” the waiter said. He showed the label to David. “Would you like me to open it now, sir?”

“Please,” David said.

The waiter pulled the cork. He poured a little of the wine into David’s glass. David sniffed at the wine and then tasted it. “Yes, that’s fine,” he said.

The waiter filled Hillary’s glass, and then David’s.

“Enjoy it,” he said.

Hillary lifted her glass. They clinked glasses and drank.

“It’s quite open-nosed, don’t you think?” David said, playing the game he used to play with Molly.

“Yes, very much so,” Hillary said, picking up on it at once.

“Woodsy,” he said.

“Bad beginning, though,” she said.

“Good middle, however.”

“Explosive end,” she said. “But don’t you find it the tiniest bit acidic?”

“Metallic, I might have said.”

“Quite. Altogether a very nervous wine.”

“Virtually neurotic,” he said, and they both laughed.

She was wearing white again. Her tan was magnificent against it. Jade earrings dangled from her ears, echoing the color of her eyes. Her lipstick was very red. She smelled of mimosa.

“Do you think the Cubans will know how to make a piccata?” she asked.

“A piñata might be more their style,” David said.

“I suppose we can always find a Cuban restaurant with an Italian chef.”

The food was surprisingly good. They both kept marveling over it. It was only nine o’clock when they finished the meal. There was a little more wine left in the bottle. They finished that as well and decided they would skip coffee.

It was still very hot in the street outside.

“Shall we walk back?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. Exercise away some of the weight I’m sure I gained in there. That really was remarkably good, wasn’t it?”

“Considering.”

“Is what I meant. Cuban chefs. God, it’s hot! ”

“We can take a taxi if you...”

“No, don’t be silly.”

They walked in silence for a while.

“I’m glad you didn’t lie to me,” she said. He turned to her, puzzled. “About being married, I mean.”

“Oh.”

“Besides, you are wearing a wedding band, you realize.”

“Am I? I hardly notice it anymore.”

“You will take it off, won’t you?” she said. “Later?”

“If you like.”

“Yes, I would.”

They continued walking.

Her stride matched his.

Long legs. High-heeled sandals clicking on the deserted sidewalk.

“What’s your wife’s name?” she asked.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Forgive me, I’m far too curious.”

“It’s Molly,” he said.

“Good Irish name,” she said. “Is she Irish?”

“Jewish,” David said.

“And you? Are you Jewish as well?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you might be. The name,” she said.

“And the nose,” he said.

“Is there something wrong with your nose?”

“I’ve never particularly liked it.”

“Looks fine to me,” she said, and took his hand.

She was still holding his hand when they walked into the hotel. He went to the front desk for his key. “Fifteen twenty-nine,” he said to the clerk. The clerk looked at Hillary.

“Yes, sir,” he said, and handed David the key.

The clerk watched them as they walked to the elevator. The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor, as it always did. The doors closed. She kissed him on the mouth. They clung together. The doors opened again on the fifteenth floor. They stepped into the corridor and kissed again. Wordlessly, they walked to his room. He had difficulty unlocking the door. At last, he turned the key, and swung the door wide and snapped on the light. She stepped into the room.

“Nice,” she said. “Much nicer than mine. And I’m a travel rep.”

He closed and locked the door. He remembered the Do Not Disturb sign. He unlocked the door and opened it again. He hung the sign on the knob.

“How clever you are,” she said, and went into his arms the moment he had closed and locked the door again. He pulled her close to him. She pressed against him. They kissed fiercely. His hands found her ass. She ground against him. His hands tightened on her.

“Would you like to fuck me now?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Mmm, yes,” she said.

They broke away from each other. She glanced down at him.

“My, my,” she said, smiling, and rolled her eyes. “Is this the loo? I shan’t be a moment.”

He watched her as she went into the bathroom. She turned to smile at him and then gently closed the door behind her. He heard the sink tap running. He turned off the lights, and went to the bed and sat on the edge of it. Behind him, the window cast a reflected glow into the room. He could hear the sound of the sea. He took off his shoes and socks. In the bathroom, the water stopped running. There was a long silence. The bathroom door opened a crack. She peeked around the edge of the door. He saw her naked shoulder.

“Should I leave anything on?” she asked.

“Whatever you like,” he said.

“Whatever you like,” she said. “I’m down to panties and heels.”

“Fine,” he said.

She opened the door wide and stepped into the room. The bathroom light was on behind her. She stepped out of sunlight. Long blond hair. Dangling green earrings. Breasts spattered with freckles. Gossamer white bikini panties. High-heeled white sandals. She paused in the wedge of light spilling from the bathroom.

“Do I suit you?” she asked.