Daniel’s lap and Daniel in his chair, with Iris naked and bent over the desk, propped up on her elbows, her hands clasped as ifin prayer, or with her arms outstretched and her hands grasping onto the edge ofthe desk for traction while Daniel emp-ties himself into her from behind.As they walk in tonight, and Daniel turns on a floor lamp and then steps behind Iris to help her offwith her coat, they both realize that more than any other single room, this utili-tarian space, with its sense ofgrievance and redress in the glassed-in bookshelves, with its evidence oftime wasted and time standing still in the standard-issue magazines on the low table in the waiting room, and the tax- deductible elegance in the blue-and-gold weave oftheTurkish rug Daniel bought at an auction at a Holiday Inn across the river, this two-room suite, this place ofbusiness, this professional outpost ofa man who willfully jettisoned his main chance to make any kind ofname for himself in his field, this is as close as anything they have to call their own.
Where in the world can they go?They have used her house, going from room to room, trying to find a bed in which they don’t feel criminal, they have parked like teenagers along various dirt roads and woodland paths, and they have been together at the Catskill Motel, the Bittersweet, the Stuyvesant Motor Lodge, a Sheraton, a Motel6,the Flying Dutch-man, and in Cabin3ofa squalid scatter oftiny tourist cabins calling it-selfthe MorpheusArms, always checking in under assumed names and paying in cash, sometimes only able to stay for a halfhour, and never re-turning anywhere a second time.
“Where does everyone think you are?”he asks her, hanging her coat on the coatrack, and then putting his own over hers.
“Hampton’s mother wants some Pepto and I said I’d find someplace open and get it for her.”She glances at her watch, shrugs.“We actually have some in the house—Pepto-Bismol is to theWelles family what chicken soup is to Jews—but I just hid it in my purse so I could have an excuse to get out ofthere.”She takes an unopened bottle ofthe lurid pink liquid out ofher pocketbook and shows it to Daniel.
He is thrilled by her cunning.Its dishonest, calculating nature doesn’t disturb him at all.
“Kind oflow, isn’t it?”she says, dropping the medicine back into her bag.
“I think when people love each other, they’ll do anything to be together,”Daniel says.“Everything that is in the way has to get either shoved to one side or beaten into dust.You do whatever is necessary.”
“Great.Let’s go on a killing spree.”
Daniel gestures toward the oak file cabinets.“Most ofmy cases, there’s not much passion behind them, but now and then I have to rep-resent someone who’s driven by some desire—for another person, for money, whatever—and I never understood how someone could risk wrecking their life, or ruining the lives ofpeople around them, or actu- ally hurting someone, just to get what they want.But I think that’s be-
cause I never really wanted anything myself, I mean really wanted it, the way I wanted you.”
“You mean you don’t anymore?”
“Now more than ever.It’s the only real thing.”
“There’s no place in the world for us, Daniel.Nothing will ever come ofthis.Just memories, fantastically painful memories.”
“That doesn’t have to be true.”
“Too much is against us,”Iris says.“Do you see how people look at us when we’re in public?”
“Fuck them.”
“Well, one day we’re going to be tired ofbeing in a freak show.”
“That’s because we’re here inTinyTown.We could go to a city.”
“Where could we go?”
“Anywhere.New York.”
“NewYork?That belongs to Hampton.I could never.Where could we go?We couldn’t stay here.OrWashington, Atlanta, San Francisco, Chicago.He’s got family in so many places.Where could we live?”
“Anywhere.London.Hong Kong.Amsterdam.Oslo.What difference does it make? I would go anywhere.And I’d do anything.I’d crawl through broken glass ifI could just be sure that at the end ofthe day I’d be getting into bed next to you.”
“You’re too focused on what you want, Daniel.”
“I can’t help it.I think I was hardwired to be with you.I’m telling you, Iris, nothing else matters.To me.”He has grabbed her elbows and is pulling her closer to him, but she turns her face away.
“I love being with you,”she says.“I love what you see in me, and I like who I am around you.”She looks at him, with such sudden seriousness it almost makes him laugh.“It’s the greatest freedom I’ve ever known,”she says.He is about to say something but she stops him.“But what are we going to do?”she says.“IfI ever tried to leave Hampton, it would be like a war.”
“Fifty percent ofmarriages end in divorce,”Daniel says.
”Not fifty percent ofHampton’s marriages, or anyone else in his fam-
ily.With them, every wedding is a royal wedding, part ofsome grand al-liance.They’re all demonstrating some idea they have ofperfect family life, and I can guarantee you one thing, he would make my life hell.He’d be merciless.In terms offinances…”
“Who cares about that?”
“I do, Daniel.Come on, be realistic here.This is my life we’re talking about.And Nelson’s, too.He’d go for custody, Hampton would, he would try to hurt me in any way he could.”
“He could try for custody.That doesn’t mean he’s going to get it.He won’t.The courts are used to these guys who suddenly are Father ofthe Year.Hampton’s not set up to raise a kid.And he’s not that great with Nelson.He bullies him.”
“You know, these family court judges,”Iris says.
”Idiots,”says Daniel.
”Yes, well, a lot ofthem areAfrican-American.African-American women.I think they’d give Hampton whatever he asked for.They would, wouldn’t they?Tell me I’m wrong.Please.I wish you would.But you can’t! I’m not going to lose my son!”
“Iris…”
“And I’ll tell you another thing,”Iris says.“IfHampton thought I was leaving him for a white guy, that would make it all the worse.”
“I’m not all that white.”
“I’m being serious, Daniel.”
“Sorry.But he’s not all that black, that’s for sure.”
“What are you talking about? He’s not all that black?You don’t really know what you’re talking about.Hampton is a black man, he feels it, his world is based on it, his social life, his business, his identity, he may be light-skinned and think like a banker, but I can promise you ifhe ever found out I was fucking some white guy, he’d be Louis Farrakhan before the day was out.It would be the ultimate betrayal.”
“Is this what you came here to talk about?”Daniel says.He lets go of her, and, just as he feared, his touch was all that was keeping her close.
She drifts away from him, stands at the window.Drops ofmoisture—rain? snow?—are forming on the black glass.
“No.I wanted to come someplace where you might be, or at least somewhere that belongs to you.I’m just so crazy about you, it’s ridiculous.”
The phone on his desk rings with a sound as sudden as a rock through a window.Daniel thinks,
Daniel finally rouses himself and turns the volume offon the machine, so the only evidence ofKate’s continuing diatribe is the light—as red as a pinprick ofblood—blinking offand on.
[13]
