Free Come Pour the Wine by Cynthia Freeman

me tell you something. If you’re going to survive in this world, you can’t take everything so literally. I don’t mean he’s a rat rat. I mean …” She paused for a long moment, and when she went on her face had a new softness in it. “At one time I was really in love with him, but he didn’t feel the same about me.” Another pause, then … “I guess I was about eighteen when I went to the McNeil summer place in Maine. We were together more than at any other time of our lives. Well, to make a story short, we had a picnic one day, swam a lot, laughed a lot at silly things kids laugh about. There was a mild summer rain and we ran to the boathouse. I was shivering and he got out blankets and put one around my shoulders. I was really nuts about him. I turned to him, looked at those beautiful brown eyes and threw off the blanket. Also caution to the winds, as they say. Well, before you knew it there was lots of kissing and touching and fondling and then he was on me … or was I on him? I don’t remember. When it was over, it was over. He said how sorry he was, that he hadn’t meant it to happen, that he hoped I’d forgive him. Forgive him … that was the joke of the century. I had seduced him. He didn’t even know it. He thought it was his fault. Well, anyway, that was the first and last time I ever loved anyone quite like that. ”
    “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you, Kit?”
    “Yes … I suppose I am … but he’s not in love with me. And it takes two, baby … two.”
    “Is that why you see Nat the way you do?”
    “Right … he gives me what Bill never could. Or would. And let me tell you, honey, it’s nice to be loved … nice. And the thing is, Nat loves me a whole lot. Now what else do you want to know about just plain Bill McNeil?”
    “Nothing.”
    “You don’t lie very convincingly, Janet.”
    “Well, I was just—”
    “You just fell for him. Why not say it?”
    Was she so transparent? Of course she was …
    “Well, say it, for God’s sake.”
    She ran her tongue around her dry lips. “Well, now that I know how you feel, it changes things.”
    “How so?”
    “Well you just told me you loved Bill and I’m your best friend—”
    “Don’t let that bother you, dear. I also told you he doesn’t love me, and nothing’s going to change that.”
    Janet had tears in her eyes. She didn’t know if they were for Kit or herself or both of them.
    “What the hell are you crying for? It’s not an Italian opera.”
    “Because—”
    “Because you fell, hard and heavy. Right?”
    “Yes. And you’re not upset?”
    “That question is so stupid I’m not even going to answer it.”
    “You mean you’re really not upset, Kit?”
    “That’s right, I’m not. Now let’s hear your saga.”
    For a long moment Janet sat looking down at her uneaten salad. Finally she started to tell how she had bumped into Bill at the party, how embarrassed and tongue-tied she had been over spilling champagne on his new suit, then how they had accidentally met downstairs and how apparent Bill’s annoyance had been over the awkward meeting. She repeated every detail and every event from that moment until now and ended with, “Can you imagine anything so stupid as going to the park and actually thinking I might meet him by chance? My God, how crazy can you get?”
    “It’s not stupid and it’s not new. Every woman who falls for a man discovers things in herself she didn’t know she possessed … and that happens to be a good word for it too. She gets possessed, does all kinds of crazy things. After which, of course, she regrets them, hates herself for her weakness and proceeds to think of all the ways to attract him, catch him … For whatever consolation it may be for you, I hear tell that some men get it pretty bad too when they take the fall … I just haven’t happened to come across any …”
    “But Kit, I’ve never ever felt like this about anyone before. Believe me. I thought I’d die