What I Did for Love (23 page)

We were back on the corner where we had met, and Rand looked after me as I walked quickly to the next corner and hailed a cab. He gave a little wave before disappearing back into the shadows, finding his way back to the alley gate.

I nodded in his direction and climbed into the cab, relieved to be going home.

When Bredon and Ree returned, the Thanksgiving holiday had given way to the preparations for Christmas. The parties they held combined holiday and wedding celebrations, but Ree was not drinking anything alcoholic, for she had returned pregnant with twins. They broke the news to me on the first night of their return, our reunion so happy and excited. The twins were a boy and a girl, and names had already been picked out for them: the girl would be Catherine Elizabeth Cooper, and the boy would be Thomas Maxwell Cooper, combining their parents’ names into the new generation. Catherine and Thomas, my parents, my father and Ree’s father sharing the same first name.

Bredon had re-opened our parents’ house on Riverside Drive, dealing with the landmarks commission, installing a small elevator to navigate from the basement to the fourth story of the house. I was co-owner of the house, and Bredon wanted to create an apartment for me, but I signed over my part of the deed to them, as a wedding present.

Bredon, being Bredon, thereupon purchased another house on the Drive, one that had gone on sale when its owner died and the heirs had argued and sued and fought, deciding in the end to sell the house and split the proceeds. He had the deed made out in my name, and told me that he would oversee renovations after his own house was done. I was in no hurry, loving my apartment, and had no intention of living in the house. I could not persuade Bredon, however. He said the house could be rented once the renovation was done, which suited me fine.

Ree and Bredon decided to set up a foundation to help children in America and abroad. In their travels they had witnessed the difficulty for children with rare or poorly understood medical conditions, especially if their parents were poor, or their medical system corrupt. To give time to the foundation,
Bredon would hire staff, at least two promising young people, to run his holding corporations and research possible new ventures. Cousin Charles was a possible hire, which excited and delighted Robin. It would be interesting to see how the staffing worked out.

To my relief, Rand was not in the city very much after our Labor Day weekend sexual romp. As far as I was concerned, it was our final time together, but to keep everything very quiet, I simply contrived to be unavailable the few times Rand was in town. Robin and Dina and I had volunteered to work with Ren at his floating clinics, and my perceptive friends saw Ren’s feelings for me. They determinedly worked with me as a protective shield, knowing how difficult and strange it had to be for me. They didn’t know that I was willing to deal with all these strange emotions because Ren was my best refuge and excuse when Rand did get back to New York.

I was seeing Andrew as regularly as our schedules permitted, and we had all gone to Dina’s parents’ estate for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. We had become a group of six, I with Andrew, Dina still with Stuart, and Robin with Charles. Dina and Stuart had become lovers, but the rest of us were only slowly getting to that point.

With the closing of the fall semester, Robin and Dina spent time with their families, but came back to New York so that the six of us could be together to celebrate the New Year. Rand had thought he would be back by then, leaving a message asking me about New Year’s Eve. Before I had to think of an evasion, he sent another message that he would not be back until sometime in January. Bredon told me that the pressures on Rand from his family, and their international holdings, was even greater than it had been.

“They’re going to kill him,” Bredon said at one point, shaking his head.

“Why doesn’t he have help, staff, assistants? Why does he
cave in to their demands?” I was curious, though I was not really sympathetic. My own feelings surprised me. Our bargain seemed to have broken the tie I had with Rand on that first day. It was so different now. All passion, no love.

“He does it because his parents make him feel guilty, because no one else in the family is as competent, lots of reasons.” Bredon looked thoughtful. “And maybe he does because he loves his family, and wants to do all this for them.”

My brother put his arm around me. “The things we all do for love,” he said, shaking his head again.

I smiled and hugged him, saying nothing, but oh yes, I understood very well. I knew how powerful that feeling was, to protect our families. I knew very well what I had already done, what I gladly did for love.

Although this story is set in New York City and the names of the avenues are accurate, as well as the names of the artists and writers cited by the characters, the functioning of the museum is completely fictional. There was not, to my knowledge, the kind of Balthus exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum that is described in this story. There have been shows of his work at various places, including the Met, but the show and the visit to the museum work areas as described here, only happened in this writer’s imagination.

There is a wondrous church in The Times Square area called The Church of Saint Mary the Virgin. It is extremely beautiful, a true place of faith, and I hope the references to its gorgeous interior do it justice. Its rites and music are also quite beautiful, should any reader be interested in seeing and hearing them.

The Holocaust story is one that the author heard many years ago, as survivors and their relatives were interviewed for a documentary shown on public television.

Romance, erotica, sensual or downright ballsy. When you want to escape: whether seeking a passionate fulfilment, a moment behind the bike sheds, a laugh with a chick-lit or a how-to – come into the Bedroom and take your pick. Bedroom readers are open-minded explorers knowing exactly what they like in their quest for pleasure, delight, thrills or knowledge.