Ghosts of Manhattan: A Novel(47)

“Thank you.” It’s a sincere compliment and she can feel it. I can tell by her eyes that she likes how the conversation is making her feel. And the eyes are on me. I haven’t had playful eyes daring me to look back in too long. At home it has been dead eyes. I think to myself that married people still ought to find a way to flirt.

“Just an observation.”

She looks like she’s decided something and leans forward. “Nick, you know I’m not shy.”

“I suspected that.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t return a compliment with a compliment, but I don’t care about that and I will. You’re very handsome. And you’re exactly my type. Physically.” I guess she adds this to be clear that married is not her type.

“What’s your type?”

“Tall and dark hair.” God, I’m loving the flirting. There’s reckless energy passing between us.

I don’t say anything for a while because I think it will make the suspense build. I’m getting goofy happy to the point that I’m not planning anything I’m saying but ad-libbing. “Sometimes we meet people that make us question the way we’ve set up our lives. Make us wonder about things.” It feels risky to say this and I like it.

Her brows come together, trying to pull another sentence from me to discover my meaning. When there isn’t another, she says, “Nick, you’re officially flirting with me.” I can see she’s pleased.

“Maybe I am. A little. I think it’s better to get it out in the open.” I think I went too far. I brought our little fantasy back to earth where I have a wife.

“I see.” She’s having fun but doesn’t seem to be taking me seriously, treating this as something futile. “Just what are you putting out in the open?”

“I like how I feel when I think about you.” I hadn’t put it into words before and I like how well I put my finger on it.

“Are you separated from your wife?”

“No.”

“Have you talked to her about separating?”

“Well, no.” This is starting to go sideways.

“So what are you telling me?”

Now I’m feeling indecisive and stupid. “I just wanted to tell you how I feel.”

“Are you hoping I’ll say something so we can do what you want and you can still be off the hook for it?”

“It’s not that. Truly, I’ve just wanted to see you, and for the first time acted on it. I haven’t thought about it much more than that and I haven’t talked about it with Julia or anyone else.” I hadn’t meant to say her name.

I can’t tell if she’s irritated or hurt or both. “Nick, I don’t know your wife. Even if I did, I can’t give you advice about any of this. Relationship advice is always bad because nobody knows what they’re talking about.”

“I’d like to talk about it anyway.” It occurs to me Julia must be talking to someone.

“I shouldn’t be the one you talk to, Nick. Better not to choose someone you might end up in bed with. The only two people qualified to talk about this type of thing are relatives or friends of the same sex.”

“Relatives of the opposite sex are okay?” I’m trying to be cute and should have known it would sound idiotic, but she lets it go.

“Unless there’s a threat of incest.”

“So the problem is always sex.” The collapse into silliness might be saving the conversation.

“Of course. Even if it’s minuscule, there’s some percentage greater than zero that wants to have sex with the other person. Immediate disqualification from giving advice. You’ve seen When Harry Met Sally. The first half of the movie is true. The second half is a fake way to resolve the first half.”

“There’s not a third category? What about a shrink?”

“Nope. There too. Shrink needs to be same sex or at least fifty years apart in age.”

“Have you slept with your shrink?”

“None of your business.”

“Jesus.” I clink her wineglass and sip my bourbon. “Despite the opposite sex part, I think I came to the right place.”

We settle back in our chairs and are silent for a moment, a silence she finally breaks. “You shouldn’t cheat, you know.”

“Oh?” I feel like I was just starting to come around to the idea.

“The fact that you asked the question answers your question.”

“Not in a very declarative way.”

“Anyway, I don’t want to sleep with someone who’s married or on the fence about leaving his marriage. I don’t think you’re even on the fence. I think you’re on the other side of the fence. With your wife.”

I wonder if there’s truth to this. I don’t know if I brought up Julia because I’m in love with her or because I’m going a little insane with frustration.

She takes my silence as agreement and continues. “I’m thirty-two. Ten years ago this might have been fine, but not now. If you change your mind, and your circumstances, and get your act together, then we can talk.”

I clink her glass again. I know it’s a cowardly thing to do, but I couldn’t have said it any better. “Since I got you all the way here, let me buy you another drink.”