'Well, it's been on my mind. So maybe it's time we talked about it, huh? Do you know that I've told you things I've never told anyone? It's true.'
'I'm flattered.'
'Not so quick. Do you also realize that I've told you very little about my past? And you—you, you big lug, have told me even less about yours. In some ways we're complete intimates; in other ways, complete strangers. Don't you think it's about time we sort of dropped the shields a little; dispense with some of the cowshit?'
Grinning, Ford had said, 'Sure,' enjoying the way she phrased things:
After a time she had said, 'You've become important to me, Ford. I wake up in the morning anxious to get done with my work, wanting to hear the sound of your boat because, once you're here, it's like I can let my breath go and relax. I've had lovers before, Doc ...' letting that hang in the air until she saw that he wasn't going to respond, then continuing, 'but I guess I've never really had a male friend before; a man who was an intimate. Maybe that's why I'm having a hard time with this. But you know what I'm getting at; we're close enough that you know what I'm trying to say. I can see it in those damn chilly eyes of yours. Help me out here, buster!'
Ford had laughed with her, but said nothing because he had absolutely no idea what she was trying to say.
'I like you, Doc. I like you a lot.'
Ford waited, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.
Jessica had pressed on. 'It frightens me a little. I keep wondering what happens to intimate friends when they become lovers. What happens to them, Doc?'
Ford, who hadn't been with a woman since the day before he left Masagua, said, 'Well, we could stick with it for a while—'
He meant they could try being lovers, but Jessica had interrupted.
'Then you're willing?'
'Ah . . . sure; more than willing.' He had shaved until his skin burned and showered, just in case. 'On a friendly sort of basis, I mean.'
'I knew you could tell what was on my mind! You dog, letting me go on and on like that. It could be kind of like an experiment, Doc.'
'An experiment, sure. That's one way of looking at it.'
She had hugged him quickly, then stepped back. 'I'm so damn weak! I was ready to jump into bed with you that first night. And just now, when you kissed me, my knees got all watery, like some schoolgirl. But I think you're right, Ford. Why not just be friends, a man and a woman, and see where it takes us? How many people have ever had that opportunity? You know ... I'd rather have you as a friend. And it's a great feeling knowing I can say that and you're not going to go away with a damaged ego, worrying about your sexuality or whether I find you attractive or not.'
Finally realizing what he had just agreed to, and wincing at the force of her enthusiasm, Ford had said, 'I'd be silly to worry about that,' and immediately began to wonder about both.
In the weeks that followed, though, Ford regretted the misunderstanding less and less. Abstinence was frustrating, but it had its good points, too. There were no obligations, no hurt feelings, no bruised egos. Jessica told him things she probably never could have confided to a lover, and Ford began to take a distant, almost clinical interest in the emotional differences of men and women.
A couple of times, he actually came close to confiding in her.
Ford slowed his boat enough to look into Jessica's house. Lights were on and he could see the silhouette of wind chimes above the door transom and the outline of a cat in the window.
He idled toward the dock, turned into the current, and tied off. The metal box he had found on Tequesta Bank was beneath the console, and he considered carrying it in with him, but did not. Jessica switched on the porch light and stepped out just as he was about to knock. She was wearing a white strapless dress and her hair was combed long over one shoulder. She looked very pretty, and Ford realized he had never seen her in a dress before.
'Ford? That's you, isn't it?' She stepped out into the light, and Ford could see that her face looked different; decided it was because she was wearing makeup. She said, 'I've been trying to get in touch with you all afternoon, kiddo. Where've you been? I called the marina twice and then boated over to your place. When are they going to put a phone in that house of yours—' She stopped suddenly and touched his elbow. 'Hey, what's wrong? You don't look right. Your eyes look funny. You been drinking?'
'Drinking? Sure I've been drinking. But just a quart.'
'You just look upset or something.'
Ford said, 'I got no work done; I was bitten by a bird. Mostly, I just need someone to talk to. Someone with a clear mind and an objective viewpoint.'
'A
Ford held his hand up for inspection. 'A vulture. That was after a couple of dozen of them dropped their load all over my shirt. Smell it? So maybe I can get cleaned up and we can go get something to eat. Or maybe you just got back?'
From the dirt road came the sound of a car traveling fast, and Jessica glanced at her watch. 'Ah, damn it, Ford . . . that's why I was trying to find you. There's a party tonight on Captiva. A lot of New York exhibitors are going to be there, a lot of rich collectors. I've known about it for a month, and I wasn't going to go, but then Benny flew in unexpectedly. I wanted to ask you to take me, but I couldn't find you, so now—' She looked at the drive as a car turned in, still going way too fast. Dust was like smoke in the big car's headlights. '—so now I'm going with Benny. I told you about him, remember?'
'No ... I don't think so.'
'Benny from the gallery.
'Oh . . . right. Benny. That one.' It was the name of a man she had said owned the gallery in Manhattan that handled her work; the man who had also once been her lover, or so Jessica had implied. Ford said, 'Well, that ought to be fun, you two together again.'
She took his arm. 'Don't be so damn big about it, Ford. Come on, at least meet him.'
Benny swung open the door of the rental car and came toward them, walking fast. He was as tall as Ford, leaner, black curly hair styled close to the head, tight jeans, bright floral shirt open to the sternum showing glittering chains among the mat of chest hair, the cosmopolitan look with body by Nautilus.
'Jess! My God, it's great to see you!' Big hug and a kiss, arm thrown around her shoulder, taking no notice of Ford. 'You look marvelous, just marvelous. Island life agrees with you. I've been telling everyone in the city you're in your Gauguin period, off in the sticks creating brilliant stuff.'
'No, no, nothing like Gauguin, but I do have a couple of new things. ...' Jessica was smiling, too, happy to be talking about her work, but perhaps not as happy to see him as her forced expression made it appear, and a little uneasy as she made the introductions. Benny became even more magnanimous, catching Ford's hand just right, squeezing too hard, saying 'To hear Jess talk on the phone, she doesn't have a friend in the world on this little island. I'm damn glad you locals are around to keep an eye on her,' putting Ford right in his place with a big grin.
Ford said, 'Well, us locals think the world of little Jess,' giving the dryness an edge, but Benny was done with it, already leading Jessica to the car, saying 'What is that
When Ford didn't respond, Jessica said to Benny, 'Oh, those damn vultures. You get used to it after a while.'
Ford touched the throttle and the skiff jumped on a line through Dinkin's Bay toward a pocket of lights in the encircling darkness: the marina. He ran straight across the flats, not slowing until he came abreast of the double markers beyond the marina basin. His own house was a dim shape three hundred yards to the east: two small cottages under a single tin roof on ^ wooden platform, all built on stilts and connected to the shore by ninety feet of old dock.
It was Friday night, clean-up and cocktail time. Fishing guides hosed their skiffs after working the late tide and live-aboards were beginning to circulate among neighboring houseboats, drinks in hand, smiles fixed, everybody
