Part 15

I'm not sure how we got back to the hotel. I think maybe we floated. That's what it felt like, anyway. He couldn't come up to my floor, of course. Propriety, don't you know. Sweet Sue and Bienstock would have yelled the walls down, so we said goodnight in the lobby. For several minutes, With a lot of wet kissing and a little groping. We should have charged the night clerk admission.

"Oh, I have one more present for you," Osgood said as I prepared to leave.

"Really, Osgood, it's too much! You've already given me so much."

"Oh, these are nothing, really. Just for sentimental reasons." He pulled a couple of maracas out of his jacket pocket and handed them to me.

"Osgood, you doll! I love them!" I kissed him on the cheek, then gave the maracas and experimental rattle. "Now everytime I shake these, I'll remember tonight."

His hand gripped my bottom. "Everytime you shake this, I'll remember."

"You devil!" I slapped him playefully on the shoulder, and found myself on the receiving end of another few minutes of oral exploration.

I finally broke it up and wandered upstairs alone, going to my room. Joe wasn't back yet, but I was too euphoric to worry about that. I flopped back on my bed, fully dressed, and lay there, shaking my maracas and singing Cuban songs. I knew that I was blissed to the point of stupidity, but I really didn't care. Someone found me attractive enough and charming enough and wonderful enough to want to marry me!

Sometime about dawn Joe climbed up onto the balcony and let himself in. He said exhuberantly, "Hi, Jerry! Everything under control?"

I kept shaking the maracas, and smiled at him smugly. "Have I got things to tell you! I'm engaged."

Joe blinked. I don't think it ever occured to him that I'd find anyone, much less get married, particularly since I'd never shown any interest in girls since he'd known me. It was all I could do to keep from giggling. "Uh... congratulations. Who's the lucky girl?"

I grinned at him. "I am."

Now his jaw dropped. "What?"

I was bubbling over, just like Sugar had been, telling us about her millionaire date. "Osgood proposed to me. We're planning a June wedding. He wanted to elope, but I'm holding out for a big church wedding. I know his mother would prefer that. And I'm going to wear white. I don't care what the manners books say. I may not be technically a virgin..." My voice was pious, "but my heart is pure."

Joe did a fair imitiation of a guppy, mouth flapping. "What are you talking about? You can't marry Osgood."

"Oh, now. look, I know you think he's too old for me, but that isn't an issue, really." My smile became nostalgic and a little lascivious. "Believe me."

"Jer, you can't be serious."

"I don't see why not. He marry's girls all the time. Why not me? I could make him happy."

"But you're not a girl."

I sat up, tossing down my maracas and crossing my arms huffily. "Details!"

"You're a guy. Why would a guy want to marry a guy?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said snidely. "Security? In case you haven't noticed in the last three years, Joe, I'M not interested in girls."

Joe pushed me back down. "Jerry, you'd better lie down, you're not doing well. You gotta know this is impossible. Insane."

I popped back up, angry now. "Look, stop treating me like a child. I'm not stupid. I know there's a... a problem."

"I'll say."

"His mother--we need her approval. But I'm not worried, because I don't smoke."

"Jerry, what about the other problem?"

"What other problem?"

"Like what you do on your honeymoon?"

"We've talked about that. He wants to go to the Riviera, but I'm more traditional, and I lean toward Niagra Falls..."

"Jerry! You know what I mean."

I deflated. I hadn't been wanting to think about that, I was so happy. "Yeah, Joe. I know."

"How can you expect to get away with this? He'll have to find out eventually."

I finally had to admit this to myself. I sighed heavily. "Oh, I guess I don't expect it to last." Damn, and I'd been so happy. Why couldn't Joe have let me hang onto the dream a little longer? "I'll tell him the truth when the time comes."

"When?"

It would have to be soon, but I was so irritated with Joe for bursting my bubble that I felt nasty enough to tease him some more. "Right after the ceremony." The jaw dropped some more. "Then we can get a quick annulment. He'll make a nice settlement on me." I gave him a wolfish smile and rubbed it in. "I'll have those alimony checks coming in every month."

It's a measure of Joe that he actually gave that some thought before he shook his head. "Listen to me--there are laws, conventions. It's just not being done."

"And I suppose pretending to be a millionaire to sucker a naive girl is?" He had the guff to look indignant. "This may be my only chance to marry a millionaire."

"Look, take my advice--forget the whole thing. Just keep telling yourself you're a boy!"

"Oh, fine! You encourage me to act like a flirt and keep Osgood interested, and now..."

"Jerry!"

I scowled. "I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I wish I was dead. I'm a boy."

He sat next to me. "Don't you want to hear how it went with me and Sugar?"

"Oh, certainly! I just love tales of intrigue and betrayal."

The sarcasm went over his head like a pop fly, and he started to tell me what had happened last night.

Joe managed to back all the way to the New Cladonia. On the bridge Sugar looked around, impressed, and said, "From the beach it looks small, but once you're on it it's more like a cruiser. Or a destroyer."

Joe was casual. "Oh, it's just regulation size. Mother keeps hers in Southampton, and father took his to Venezuala. He's laying a pipeline there."

Sugar tried to look wise. "My dad is more interested in railroads. Baltimore and Ohio." She peered around. "Which is the port and which is the starboard?"

As if. Jow wouldn't know port and starboard from left and right. But he's good at putting up a front. He said, "Well, that depends on whether you're going or coming. Normall the aft is on the other side of the stern." He pointed. "That's the bridge, so we can get from one side of the boat to the other..." He faltered, coming to the end of his nautical terminology, then said brightly. "How about a glass of champagne?"

Wise man. Offer Sugar booze and she was automatically distracted. "Love it! Which way?"

Uh-oh, Joe. He had no idea, of course, and you'd be surprised how easy it is to get lost on a yacht. "Let's see..." He looked around. "Where do you suppose the steward set it up?" Ah, yes. Patent Joe--blame someone else. The first door he opened led to some stairs going down. "Our hurricane cellar," he explained, closing it. The second door revealed a storage closet filled with mops and buckets. "Another nice thing about a yacht--lots of closet space."

It was Sugar who found the place, peeking through a porthole. "Look, in here."

And of course Joe knew it all along. "Of course! On Thursdays they always serve me in the small salon."

Listening to him describe it made me wish I had gone. Mahogany paneling, trophy case, a stuffed marlin on the wall, a sinfully luxurious couch, and an elegantly set dinner table for two. I have to admit, though, that his description didn't do it justice. When I saw it, I...

Never mind that right now. We're talking about Sugar and Joe--the rat.

Sugar was impressed. "It's exquisite, like a floating mansion."

Joe sounded bored. "Yes, it's all right for a bachelor."

Sugar admired the fish. "What a beautiful fish."

"Caught him off Cape Haterass. He's a member of the herring family."

"A herring?" Sugar blinked. "Isn't it amazing how they get those huge things into those little glass jars."

Joe blinked back at her, then said slowly. "They shrink when they're marinated." Joe poured champagne, gave Sugar a glass, and lifted his own in a toast. "Down the hatch, as we say at sea."

"Bon voyage!"

Joe noticed Sugar looking at the trophies and HAD to show off. "Those are for skeet shooting, dog breeding, water polo. Terribly dangerous sport, water polo. I had two ponies drown under me."

Sugar peered around. "Where's your shell collection?"

He hadn't anticipated that. "Uh... yes. Well, where could they have put it?" He looked under the couch. "I'm just so lost on Thursdays. It's the crew's day off, you know."

Sugar gasped. "You mean we're alone on the boat?" He nodded. She gave him a coy look. "You know, I've never been completely alone with a man before--in the middle of the night--in the middle of the ocean."

"Oh, it's perfectly safe. We're well anchored, the ship is ship shape, and the Coast Guard promised to call if there were any ice bergs around."

"It's not that. Certain men would try to take advantage of the situation." She looked at him hopefully.

So, what does he do? What's his big plan? He plays hard to get. "You're flattering me. My dear, I'm harmless. I have this--thing--about girls. The sort of leave me cold."

She was trying to understand. "You mean like frigid?" I had no idea the girl was so Freudean.

"It's more like a mental block. They do nothing for me."

"Have you tried?"

"I'm trying all the time." He put his arms around her and gave her a kiss that would not have been out of place between me and my mother. "See? Nothing."

"Nothing at all? That makes me feel awful."

"Oh, it's not your fault. Sometimes things just go wrong."

"You can't fall in love?"

"Not anymore." He put a sad, faraway look in his eyes. "But I'd rather not talk about it." He lifted the glass dome off the food. "Cold pheasant?"

"What happened?"

"Oh, I don't want to bore you..." She started to turn away. "But if you insist. It was my freshman year at Princeton - there was this girl - her name was Nellie - her father was vice-president of Hupmobile - she wore glasses, too. That summer we spent our vacation at the Grand Canyon - we were standing on the highest ledge, watching the sunset - suddenly we had an impulse to kiss - I took off my glasses - I took a step toward her - she took a step toward me -"

Sugar gasped in horror. "Oh, no!"

He nodded. "Yes. Eight hours later they brought her up by mule - I gave her three transfusions - we had the same blood type - Type O - it was too late. Ever since then..." he put his hand over his heart. "numb. No feeling. Like my heart was shot full of novocaine. All the money in the world, and what good is it?" He offered the serving plate. "Mint sauce or cranberries?"

"How can you think of food at a time like this? Is it that hopeless?"

"My family has done everything they could. They hired beautiful French upstairs maids, got a tutor to read me all the books that were banned in Boston, even imported a whole troupe of Balinese dancers with bells on their ankles and long fingernails. It was a complete waste of money."

Sugar said hopefully. "Have you ever tried American girls?"

She kissed him. He shook his head. "Thanks just the same."

She sighed. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I spent six months in Vienna with Dr. Freud, flat on my back." As if to demonstrate, he stretched out on the couch. Oo, that devil. He was really setting it up. "Then there were the Mayo brothers. Injections, hypnosis, mineral baths. If I wasn't such a coward, I'd kill myself."

"Don't talk like that!" I'm sure the poor kid was genuinely horrified.

Joe sighed. "If I could find a girl who could just make me feel something I'd marry her..." he snapped his fingers. "like that!"

Sugar perked up at the word 'marriage'. "Look, I'm not Dr. Freud, or a Mayo brother, or a French upstairs girl, or a hootchie-cootchie dancer... unless you count that time at Coney Island... but could I take another crack at it?"

"Oh, all right. If you insist." She kissed him again, a little more insistantly. "Nothing. Terribly sorry."

Sugar dimmed the lights, turned on the radio, and gave him more champagne. I have to wonder if she and Joe learned seduction from the same correspondence course. "You're not giving yourself a chance. Don't fight it. Relax." Yes, they definitely studied the same text.

She kissed him again. He shook his head. "It's like taking someone tone deaf to a concert. It's like smoking without inhaling..."

"So inhale!" This time she laid a real liplock on him. They kissed... and kissed... and kissed. Look at your watch. And kissed. They came up for air. "Well?"

"I'm not quite sure. Try it again." So she did. He looked thoughtful. "I got a funny sensation in my toes, like somebody was barbecuing them over a low flame."

"Let's throw another log on the fire."

Another kiss. "I think you're on the right track. My glasses are beginning to steam up. I never knew it could be like this. Thank you. They told me I was kaputt., finished, washed up. Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

She primped her hair. "Oh, you know. Junior League, charity bazaars. I used to sell kisses for the Mild Fund."

She kissed him again. "Tomorrow remind me to send a check to the Milk Fund." This time he kissed her.

And here I draw the curtain. Yes, he told me what happened. But, being a lady, there are some things I won't discuss. Heterosexual sex is one of them.

They returned to shore, backwards, near dawn. I think they actually passed Osgood as he walked to the pier, but the poor dear was too happily distracted to notice that his motorboat had just been returned. At the hotel Joe gave Sugar a final kiss, saying he might as well make what he owed the Milk Fund round up to an even million. She started up, then came back and kissed him again, saying she'd forgotten to give him his receipt.

sniff I'm sorry. Young love... even when it's one sided it's just so precious. I never know whether to cry or barf.

Then as Sugar went inside, Joe started to climb up to our balcony, which brought him into our room and our meeting.

He finished telling me about his evening with Sugar, then said, "Don't you see, Jer? It wouldn't work out with Osgood." He sounded pious. "You can't build a relationship on deception."

I stared at him, open mouthed, then sighed. It wouldn't do any good to point certain facts about his own behavior out to him. Joe, being Joe, would never get it. "I guess not. But what am I going to do about my engagement present?" I'd put the bracelet back in it's box. Now I showed it to Joe. "He gave me this bracelet."

Joe got his glasses and used one of the lenses as a magnifier to look at the jewels. "Hey, these are real diamonds!"

I huffed. "Naturally. You think my fiance is a bum? Now I guess I'll have to give it back."

Joe looked thoughtful. "Wait a minute. Let's not be hasty. After all, we don't want to hurt poor Osgood's feelings."

There was a nock on the door, and Josephine called out, "Just a minute." We both made sure our wigs were straight, and Joe dived under the covers, hiding his yachting clothes.

Just in time. Sugar breezed in, in a negligee. "It's me. I thought I heard voices, and I just had to talk to somebody. I can't sleep."

"I know what you need," I said. I got the hot water bottle from the dresser. "A good slug of bourbon."

She waved it away. "Oh, no. I'm off that stuff for good." Now I knew there was trouble.

Joe said, "Did you have a nice time?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nice? It was suicidally beautiful."

I glared at Joe. "Did he get fresh?"

She shrugged. "Of course not. As a matter of fact, it was just the opposite. You see, he needs help. And boy, was it elegant. Candlelight, mint sauce and cranberries."

Joe batted his eyes. "I wish I was there."

I growled, "Close your eyes, and I bet you can picture it just as clearly as if you were."

Sugar sighed. "I'm going to see him again tonight, and every night. I think he's going to propose, as soon as he gets up his nerve."

I wanted to hit Joe, and he could tell. "That's some nerve!"

Joe said quickly, "Daphne got a proposal tonight."

Sugar beamed at me. "Really?"

I nodded, proud. "From a rich millionaire."

"That's wonderful!" She turned sympathetic eyes on Joe. "Poor Josephine."

"Me?" That got him. He doesn't like pity. Well, unless he can use it to get something.

Sugar continued. "Daphne has a beau, I have a beau. If only we could find somebody for you."

At that moment the door opened and that fresh kid bellhop strolled in with a gin bottle in one hand and the passkey in the other. "Here I am, doll!"

And as the sun rose in the East, Joe slowly sank under the covers, his face almost as red as the rising sun.