“But not Jewish, thank God.” Mother had once feared that Gus might marry Rachel Abramov, whom he had liked enormously but never loved. “And I suppose we can be grateful that Olga is not a fortune hunter.”
“Indeed not. I should think Vyalov must be richer than Father.”
“I’m sure I have no idea.” Women such as Ursula were not supposed to know about money. Gus suspected they knew the net worth of their own and each others’ husbands to the nearest dime, but they had to pretend ignorance.
She was not as cross as he had feared. “So you’ll do it?” he said with trepidation.
“Of course. I’ll send Mrs. Vyalov a note.”
Gus felt elated, but a new fear struck him. “Mind you, you’re not to invite your snobbish friends to make Mrs. Vyalov feel inferior.”
“I have no snobbish friends.”
That remark was too ludicrous even to be acknowledged. “Ask Mrs. Fischer, she’s amiable. And Aunt Gertrude.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Gus felt great relief, as if he had survived an ordeal. “I know Olga is not the bride you may have dreamed of for me, but I feel sure you’re going to become very fond of her in no time at all.”
“My dear son, you’re almost twenty-six years old. Five years ago I might have tried to talk you out of marriage to the daughter of a shady businessman. But lately I have been wondering if I’m ever to have grandchildren. If at this point you announced that you wanted to marry a divorced Polish waitress I fear my first concern might be whether she were young enough to bear children.”
“Don’t jump the gun-Olga hasn’t agreed to marry me. I haven’t even asked her.”
“How could she resist you?” She stood up and kissed him. “Now make me another drink.”
“You saved my life!” Olga said to Lev. “Father would have killed me.”
Lev grinned. “I saw him coming. I had to act fast.”
“I’m so grateful,” Olga said, and she kissed his lips.
He was startled. She pulled away before he could take advantage, but he felt himself to be on a completely different footing with her immediately. He looked nervously around the garage, but they were alone.
She took out a pack of cigarettes and put one in her mouth. He lit it, copying what Gus Dewar had done yesterday. It was an intimate gesture, obliging the woman to dip her head and allowing the man to stare at her lips. It felt romantic.
She leaned back in the seat of the Packard and blew out smoke. Lev got into the car and sat beside her. She made no objection. He lit a cigarette for himself. They sat for a while in the half dark, their smoke mingling with the smells of oil and leather and a flowery perfume Olga was wearing.
To break the silence, Lev said: “I hope you enjoyed your tennis party.”
She sighed. “All the boys in this town are frightened of my father,” she said. “They think he’ll shoot them if they kiss me.”
“Will he shoot them?”
She laughed. “Probably.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” This was near to the truth. Lev was not really unafraid, he just ignored his fears, always hoping he could talk his way out of trouble.
But she looked skeptical. “Really?”
“That’s why he hired me.” This, too, was only one step removed from reality. “Ask him.”
“I might do that.”
“Gus Dewar really likes you.”
“My father would love it if I married him.”
“Why?”
“He’s rich, his family are old Buffalo aristocracy, and his father is a senator.”
“Do you always do what your pa wants?”
She drew thoughtfully on her cigarette. “Yes,” she said, and blew out smoke.
Lev said: “I love to watch your lips when you smoke.”
She made no reply, but gave him a speculative look.
That was invitation enough for Lev, and he kissed her.
She gave a little moan at the back of her throat, and pushed feebly at his chest with her hand, but neither protest was serious. He tossed his cigarette out of the car and put his hand on her breast. She grasped his wrist, as if to shove his hand away, then instead pressed it harder against her soft flesh.
Lev touched her closed lips with his tongue. She pulled away and gave him a startled look. He realized she did not know about kissing this way. She really was inexperienced. “It’s okay,” he said. “Trust me.”
She threw away her cigarette, pulled him nearer, closed her eyes, and kissed him with her mouth open.
After that it happened very fast. There was a desperate urgency about her desire. Lev had been with several women, and he believed it was wise to let them set the pace. A hesitant woman could not be hurried, and an impatient one should not be held back. When he found his way through Olga’s underwear and stroked the soft mound of her sex, she became so aroused that she sobbed with passion. If it were true that she had reached the age of twenty without being kissed by any of the timid boys of Buffalo, she must have a lot of stored-up frustration, he guessed. She lifted her hips eagerly for him to pull down her drawers. When he kissed her between her legs she cried out with shock and excitement. She had to be a virgin, but he was too heated for such a thought to give him pause.
She lay back with one foot on the seat and the other on the floor, her skirt around her waist, her thighs spread ready for him. Her mouth was open and she was breathing hard. She watched him with wide eyes as he unbuttoned. He entered her cautiously, knowing how easy it was to hurt a girl there, but she grasped his hips and pulled him inside her impatiently, as if she feared she might be cheated at the last minute of what she wanted. He felt the membrane of her virginity resist him briefly, then break easily, with only a little gasp from her, as of a tinge of pain that went as quickly as it had come. She moved against him in a rhythm of her own, and again he let her take the lead, sensing that she was answering a call that would not be denied.
This was more thrilling, for him, than the act of love had ever been before. Some girls were knowing; some were innocent, but keen to please; some were careful to satisfy the man before seeking their own fulfilment. But Lev had never come across such raw need as Olga’s, and it inflamed him beyond measure.
He held himself back. Olga cried out loud, and he put a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. She bucked like a pony, then buried her face in his shoulder. With a stifled scream she reached her climax, and a moment later he did the same.
He rolled off her and sat on the floor. She lay still, panting. Neither of them spoke for a minute. Eventually she sat upright. “Oh, God,” she said. “I didn’t know it would be like that.”
“Usually it’s not,” he replied.
There was a long, reflective pause, then she said in a quieter voice: “What have I done?”
He made no answer.
She picked up her drawers from the floor of the car and pulled them on. She sat still a moment longer, catching her breath, then she got out of the car.
Lev stared at her, waiting for her to say something, but she did not. She walked to the rear door of the garage, opened it, and went out.
But she came back the next day.
Edith Galt accepted President Wilson’s proposal of marriage on June 29. In July the president returned to the White House temporarily. “I have to go back to Washington for a few days,” Gus said to Olga as they strolled through the Buffalo Zoo.
“How many days?”
