She was stripped down to her bra and panties when she heard the key turn in the lock. Without covering up, she hurried into the foyer. Philip came in, unencumbered, she noted, by a deli bag, and wouldn’t look her in the eye. Something was wrong.
“Where were you?” she asked, then adjusted her attitude to make it seem like she didn’t care. “I had the best time with Enid at the ballet. It was so beautiful. I didn’t know it would be like that. And ‘Diamonds’ was so cute. And Enid said you danced in The Nutcracker when you were a kid. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He turned around and closed the door. When he turned back, he appeared to register the fact that she wasn’t dressed. Usually, this excited him, and he’d put his hand on her breast. But now he shook his head.
“Lola.” He sighed.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Put on your clothes and let’s talk.”
“I can’t,” she said gaily, as if everything were fine. “I was just getting into a bath. You’ll have to talk to me while I’m under bubbles.” Before he could say more, she darted away.
Philip went into the kitchen and put his hands in his hair. Riding up in the elevator from Schiffer Diamond’s apartment, he’d somehow imagined this would be easy, or at least straightforward. He would tell Lola the truth — that he didn’t think it was a good idea if they lived together after all — and he would offer her money. She still had two weeks left on the lease of her old apartment, and he would take over the rent for six months until she found a regular job. He would even pay her cell phone bills and take her shopping on Madison Avenue if necessary. He considered telling her the whole truth — that he was in love with someone else — but decided that might be too cruel. Nevertheless, she was going to make this as difficult as possible. He was slightly drunk from having consumed nearly two bottles of wine with Schiffer, but feeling in need of an extra dose of Dutch courage, he poured himself a glass of vodka over ice. He took a swig and went into the bathroom.
Lola was soaping her breasts. He tried not to be distracted by her pink nipples, pert from their immersion in hot water. He flipped down the toilet seat and sat. “So where were you, anyway?” Lola asked playfully, flicking soap bubbles at his leg.
He took another sip of vodka. “I was with Schiffer Diamond. I had dinner with her in her apartment.” This should have triggered the impending discussion about their own relationship, but instead, Lola barely reacted.
“That’s nice,” she said, drawing out the I in “nice.” “Did you have a good time?”
He nodded, wondering why she wasn’t more upset.
“You’re old friends,” she said and smiled. “Why shouldn’t you have dinner? Even though you said you were going to work. I guess you got hungry.”
“It wasn’t exactly like that,” Philip said ominously.
Lola suddenly understood that Philip was about to break up with her — probably over Schiffer Diamond. The thought made her insides twist in alarm, but she couldn’t let Philip know. She ducked under the water for a second to get her bearings. If she could somehow prevent Philip from breaking up with her now, at this moment, his desire to be rid of her might pass, and they could go on as before. When she popped out of the water, she had a plan.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said, grabbing a pumice stone and briskly sanding her heels. “I’ve had some bad news. My mother just called, and she needs me to go to Atlanta for a few days. Or longer.
Maybe a week. She’s not doing very well. You know the bank took the house?”
“I know,” Philip said. The financial woes of Lola’s family terrified him, constantly pulling him back into this relationship and her dependency on him.
“So anyway,” Lola continued, examining her feet as if trying to be brave about the situation, “I know you’re leaving for L.A. in three days. I don’t want to upset you, but I won’t be able to come after all. It’s too far away, and my mother might need me. But I’ll be here when you get back,” she promised, as if this were a consolation prize.
“About that...” Philip began.
She shook her head. “I know. It’s kind of a bummer. But let’s not talk about it, because it makes me sad. And I have to go to Atlanta first thing in the morning. And I need a really, really big favor. Do you mind if I borrow a thousand dollars for my plane ticket?”
“No.” Philip sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he couldn’t have the discussion now, but also somewhat relieved. She was leaving tomorrow anyway. Maybe she wouldn’t come back, and there would be no need to break up with her after all.“It’s no problem,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry. You help your mother — that’s what’s most important.”
She stood up, and with water and soap sliding off her in a slurry mess, she embraced him. “Oh, Philip,” she said. “I love you so much.”
She moved her hands down his chest and started trying to unbutton his jeans. He put his hands on hers and pulled them away. “Not now, Kitty,” he said. “You’re upset. It wouldn’t be fun for either of us.”
“Okay, baby,” she said, drying herself off. Playing to the moment, she went into the bedroom and began packing wearily, as if someone had died and she was going to a funeral. Then she went into Philip’s office and wrote a note. “Could you give this to Enid?” she asked, handing it to him.
“It’s a thank-you for the ballet. I told Enid I would see her tomorrow, and I don’t want her to think I forgot about her.”
Early the next morning, Beetelle Fabrikant was surprised to get a phone call from Lola, who was at La Guardia airport, about to board a plane for Atlanta. “Is everything all right?” Beetelle asked, her voice rising in panic.
“It’s fine, Mother,” Lola replied impatiently. “I told Philip I was worried about you, and he gave me money to visit you for the weekend.”
Lola hung up and paced the small waiting area. Now was the worst possible time to leave Philip alone, when he was all hopped up on Schiffer Diamond and separated from her by only four floors. But if Lola had stayed, he would have tried to break up with her. And then she would have had to cry and beg. Once you did that with a man, it was as good as over. The man might keep you around, but he would never respect you. It wasn’t fair, she thought, scuffing her foot on the dirty airport carpet. She was young and beautiful, and she and Philip had great sex. What more did he want?
Her perambulations took her by a small newsstand, where Schiffer Diamond’s face stared out at her from the cover of Harper’s Bazaar. She was wearing a blue halter-necked dress and was in one of those model-y type poses with her back arched and her hand on her hip, her long dark hair glossy and straight. I hate her, Lola thought, having a visceral reaction to the photograph, but she bought the magazine anyway, and pored over the cover, looking for flaws in Schiffer’s face. For a moment, Lola despaired.
How could she compete with a movie star?
Her flight was called on the loudspeaker, and Lola went to stand in line at the gate. She glanced up at the TV monitor, which was broadcasting one of the morning shows, and there was Schiffer Diamond again. This time she was wearing a plain white shirt with the collar turned up, a profusion of turquoise necklaces, and slim black pants. As she stared at the monitor, Lola felt a vein in her throat thumping in anger.
“I came back to New York to start over,” Schiffer was saying to the host. “New Yorkers are wonderful, and I’m having a great time.”
“With my boyfriend!” Lola wanted to scream.