“Let’s take a break,” he suggested.
“I’m not tired.”
He grinned. “I am.”
She followed him into the kitchenette and they sat down together at the tiny kitchen table. He could feel the nearness of her, smell the clean fresh smell of her nakedness. He lit a cigarette and forced himself to look away from her, but his eyes came back to her in a second.
“Ralph—”
“What is it, darling?” The darling spilled from his lips automatically. If it bothered her she gave no indication of it.
“When can I see the picture?”
He considered. Probably there was no harm in showing it to her now. All that remained were a few strokes here and a few more there. And she had been patient enough for a hell of a long time.
“C’mon,” he said. “You might as well have a look at it.”
He took her by the hand and they walked back to the easel. Her hand was very small in his, very small and soft. He could smell the natural perfume of her body, could feel the softness of her as their bodies touched.
When she stood behind the easel with him, it was as though he himself was seeing the painting for the first time. Only then did he realize how good it was, how much better it was than anything he had ever done before. Every line had a purpose, every tone and shading was just right.
And it was her. That was the important thing, the thing that had to be right. It was her on the canvas, with every detail perfect from the smile on her face to the curves of her legs.
For a long time she didn’t say a word. He still held her hand in his and she stood without moving, her eyes concentrating entirely on the picture.
Then, still without moving or turning her head, she asked: “Is that the way I look to you, Ralph?”
“Yes.”
They were silent again. She still didn’t move.
Then: “Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“I didn’t realize I was that… beautiful.”
“At least that beautiful. More beautiful, perhaps — but that’s as good as I can do with paint on canvas.”
She still did not avert her eyes from the canvas, and when she spoke it was in a soft monotone.
“I almost looked at it last night, Ralph. I wanted to.”
“How come you didn’t?”
“Because you told me not to.”
“I would never have known.”
She hesitated. “I’m glad I didn’t,” she said.
“How come?”
“This way we looked at it together. And it’s nicer that way.”
This time she moved. She turned her head toward him and there was a half-smile on her lips. He looked down into her eyes and all he could think of was how much he was in love with her, how much he wanted her, how desperately he needed her.
He put one arm around her. She didn’t draw away from him.
He lowered his mouth to hers.
The kiss started off gentle and simple and still she didn’t resist him. Then he started to draw her in closer so that her nude body pressed up against him. His tongue stroked her closed lips tenderly.
And, suddenly, she pulled away from him and hid her face in her hands.
“Susan!”
She walked away from him, shaking her head from side to side. He followed her and she sat down finally on the bed and made room for him to sit down next to her. After he did so he started to put an arm around her but she waved him away.
“Ralph,” she said. “Darling, I have something to tell you and I want you to listen to me until I’m finished. All right?”
“Sure.”
“I love you, Ralph.”
He closed his eyes, sure that he knew what was coming. It would be the same song and dance they had gone through yesterday, the same I-love-you-but-nothing-can-come-of-it business she had spouted last afternoon.
“Go ahead.”
“Please, Ralph — I don’t want you to interrupt me at all. I’m not sure just how to word this and I don’t want to louse it up.”
When she paused he took his cigarettes from his shirt pocket and shook one loose. He put it between his lips and scratched a match, bringing the flame up to the cigarette. Her fingers touched his and she asked him for a cigarette without words, and he gave her one just as silently and lit it for her.
“Ralph, darling, every time I’m with you I love you a little more. And every time I’m with you and realize how much I love you, well, I begin to want you just that much more. But basically I’m still a very scared and frightened little kid.”
He expelled a mouthful of smoke in a thin line and watched it break up into a shapeless cloud and drift lazily toward the ceiling.
“I’m afraid of a lot of things, Ralph. I’m afraid of you, for example.”
One hand clenched into a fist. He could feel the tension in his jaw muscles, tried to relax and found it impossible. The fingers of his right hand tightened on the cigarette and he looked down helplessly as the slim cylinder of paper and tobacco was crushed between his fingers. Grains of tobacco spilled to the floor and he ground out the glowing tip of the cigarette with his heel.
“But, darling, every day I’m a little less afraid of you. Every day I relax more. I… I think I’m going to be able to get there, Ralph. I think I’m going to be able to love you… all the way.”
He stared at her. For a moment he thought he had heard wrong.
“Yes, darling. This fear is a very strong thing, the biggest thing in my life so far. It’s what drove me to women in the first place and it’s the thing that has kept me from you so far. But I’m beginning to get over it. I knew this yesterday after you left and I’m beginning to know it more and more. Every minute I spend with you makes me more aware of how much you mean to me, how much I love you. Every time I—”
“Susan—”
“Let me finish, darling.”
He stopped in mid-sentence.
“Every time I see you I can go a little bit farther, Ralph. But this fear of mine — it’s a hell of a deep-seated thing. It’s probably something so deep inside of me that the only way to find out the cause of it would be to see a psychiatrist, and even that would take years and might not work out after all. But I think it’ll work out, if we give it time.
“You can’t rush me, Ralph. If you rush me I’ll just stay afraid and… and it won’t do either of us any good. I love you tremendously but it’s going to take time for us to work all this out and… and I want it to work out darling. I want it more than I ever wanted anything in the world.”
They were both silent for several minutes. He turned slightly and saw that tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes, and very gently he said: “Of course it will work, Susan. Of course it will.”
And then, without touching her or trying to kiss her, be talked to her. He told her how much he loved her, how much he needed her. He told her everything he had told her the day before and more because he loved her now far more than he had then, and because he knew now that he would love her more and more for the rest of their lives. He would never stop loving her, and he knew this, and he told her so.
Then, finally, he stood up.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’d better go now.”
“Why?”
“I’d just better leave.”
“Don’t you want to finish the picture?”
“Not now.”
“Why not?”
“Light’s not right.”
“The light’s still good.”
He shrugged.
“Tell me, Ralph.”
He hesitated. How in the world could he explain it to her?