The prodigal spy

“Did he?” she said, her voice almost eager, and then she was crying, her face scrunched like a child’s. “I’m sorry,” she said, running a finger under her eyes. “I don’t know why I mind so much. I didn’t expect to. You’d think-” She took out a handkerchief and wiped her face. “I must look like hell. I’ve been doing this all day. Silly, isn’t it? It’s just that I keep thinking-” Nick looked at her curiously. All these years without a word. She blew her nose. “What did he say?”

“He wondered if you’d ever want to see him again.”

“If I’d ever want to see him again,” she repeated dully, staring at the handkerchief. “I won’t now, will I? He’s really gone, not just away somewhere.” She paused. “I’ve never been a widow before. All of a sudden, you’re alone.” She tried to smile, airy. “Nobody to go dancing with. Hear the songs. He was a good dancer, did you know?”

“No.”

“We used to have fun. I’d get all dressed up, he liked that, and-” She stopped again, catching his look. “Don’t worry. It’s just that it all comes back. All the fun.” Her eyes went back to the window, fixed somewhere in the fading light. A silence. “See him again,” she said slowly. “I wanted to see him every day. Every single day.”

I hope you die, she’d said.

“I never knew you felt that way. I mean, after-”

“Didn’t you? No, nobody did. Maybe I didn’t myself. I thought it would stop,” she said to herself, still staring out the window. “How do you stop? I was in love with him,” she said simply. The rest of it doesn’t matter, you know. Not any of it. I was in love with him.“ Her voice was dreamy again. ”People don’t say that anymore, do they? ‘In love.’ “

Nick looked at her, remembering his awkwardness on the train.

“But then, we were all like that. Drugged with it. That was our drug. All those songs. It’s what everybody wanted, to fall in love. Maybe it was the war, I don’t know. But I did. Just like in the songs. He would just walk into the room.” She paused. “Just walk into the room. That’s all. And I’d be-” She stopped and looked at him. “Am I embarrassing you? Children never think their parents feel anything.” Her face softened. “But you’re not a child anymore. You look so much like him. The same eyes.”

“He never stopped loving you either.” A kindness, but wasn’t it true? He remembered the look on his father’s face when he asked about her.

“Did he say that?” Her eyes moist again.

Nick nodded, not quite a lie.

“No, you never stop. I don’t think I realized it until I heard.” She turned back to the window. “I thought he — took it with him. Everything. The way he took the fun. And then I heard and it all came back. He was there all the time. Nobody else. I didn’t know.” She started crying again, shuddering, shaking her head. “Nobody told me I’d miss him. Nobody told me. Then you’re alone.” She turned her head, a thin wail, no louder than a sigh.

Nick looked at her, dismayed. “You’re not alone.”

She reached over and put her hand on his arm. “I know, honey, I didn’t mean it that way.” She sniffled, visibly pulling herself back. “What would I have done without you? It’s different, that’s all.”

“I mean you have Larry.”

“I never loved Larry,” she said flatly, putting out her cigarette. “I never loved anyone but your father. Not for a day. Didn’t you know that?”

No, I didn’t, Nick wanted to say. “But you married him.”

“Yes. I don’t know why. I suppose to make him stop asking me. Maybe I thought it would be safer-better for you. Who knows why we do things? Maybe I thought it would be a way to forget.” Her hand was still at the ashtray, rubbing the cigarette out. “I was wrong about that. In a way it made it worse, all the pretending. Anyway, I did. Not very fair to him, I suppose, but it’s what he wanted.”

“He’s crazy about you.”

“Larry?” She looked up at him. “Larry was never faithful to me in his life. Not that I cared. Well, at first. Then it was a relief, really. I never had to worry about him. Larry always took care of himself.” She paused. “Now I am embarrassing you.”

“How did you know?” Nick said, disbelieving. Where had he been while their lives were going on?

“Oh, darling, people are always helpful. Telling you things. For your own good. I suppose they thought I’d mind. Divorce him, which is always interesting. But, you see, I didn’t care. I mean, he never flaunted it, there was no reason not to go on as we were. He was always very fond of you.” She shrugged, ironic. “A model husband. It’s just the way he is. So why should I mind?”

“You don’t really mean that.”