“We’re going to blockade Cuba, but the only Russian ship we’ll stop won’t have anything in it but food and trade goods. The Russians are going to bluster, but by Thursday or Friday they’re going to be scared to death and looking for a way out. One of the big Russian diplomats will initiate a backchannel meeting with some TV guy.” And seemingly from nowhere, the way crossword puzzle answers sometimes come to me, I remembered the name. Or almost remembered it. “His name is John Scolari, or something like that-”
“Scali? Are you talking about John Scali, on the ABC News?”
“Yeah, that’s him. This is going to happen Friday or Saturday, while the rest of the world-including your ex and your pal from Yale-is just waiting for the word to stick their heads between their legs and kiss their asses goodbye.”
She heartened me by giggling.
“This Russian will more or less say…” Here I did a pretty good Russian accent. I had learned it listening to Lee’s wife. Also from Boris and Natasha on Rocky and Bullwinkle. “‘Get vurd to your president that ve vunt vay to back out of this vith honor. You agree take your nuclear missiles out of Turkey. You promise never to invade Kooba. Ve say okay and dismantle missiles in Kooba.’ And that, Sadie, is exactly what’s going to happen.”
She wasn’t giggling now. She was staring at me with huge saucer eyes. “You’re making this up to make me feel better.”
I said nothing.
“You’re not, ” she whispered. “You really believe it.”
“Wrong,” I said. “I know it. Big difference.”
“George… nobody knows the future.”
“John Clayton claims to know, and you believe him. Roger from Yale claims to know, and you believe him, too.”
“You’re jealous of him, aren’t you?”
“You’re goddam right.”
“I never slept with him. I never even wanted to.” Solemnly, she added: “I could never sleep with a man who wears that much cologne.”
“Good to know. I’m still jealous.”
“Should I ask questions about how you-”
“No. I won’t answer them.” I probably shouldn’t have told her as much as I had, but I couldn’t stop myself. And in truth, I would do it again. “But I will tell you one other thing, and this you can check yourself in a couple of days. Adlai Stevenson and the Russian representative to the UN are going to face off in the General Assembly. Stevenson’s going to exhibit huge photos of the missile bases the Russians are building in Cuba, and ask the Russian guy to explain what the Russians said wasn’t there. The Russian guy is going to say something like, ‘You must vait, I cannot respond viddout full translation.’ And Stevenson, who knows the guy can speak perfect English, is going to say something that’ll wind up in the history books along with ‘don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes.’ He’s going to tell the Russian guy he can wait until hell freezes over.”
She looked at me doubtfully, turned to the night table, saw the charred pack of Winstons sitting on top of a hill of crushed butts, and said: “I think I’m out of cigarettes.”
“You should be okay until morning,” I said dryly. “It looks to me like you front-loaded about a week’s supply.”
“George?” Her voice was very small, very timid. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
“My car’s parked in your-”
“If one of the neighborhood neb-noses says something, I’ll tell them you came to see me after the president’s speech and it wouldn’t start.”
Considering how the Sunliner was running these days, that was plausible. “Does your sudden concern for propriety mean you’ve stopped worrying about nuclear Armageddon?”
“I don’t know. I only know I don’t want to be alone. I’ll even make love with you if that will get you to stay, but I don’t think it would be much good for either of us. My head aches so badly. ”
“You don’t have to make love to me, hon. It’s not a business deal.”
“I didn’t mean-”
“Hush. I’ll get the aspirin.”
“And look on top of the medicine cabinet, would you? Sometimes I leave a pack of cigarettes there.”
She had, but by the time she’d taken three puffs of the one I lit for her, she was wall-eyed and dozing. I took it from between her fingers and mashed it out on the lower slope of Mount Cancer. Then I took her in my arms and laid back on the pillows. We fell asleep that way.
When I woke to the first long light of dawn, the fly of my slacks was unzipped and a skillful hand was exploring inside my underwear. I turned to her. She was looking at me calmly. “The world is still here, George. And so are we. Come on. But be gentle. My head still aches.”
I was gentle, and I made it last. We made it last. At the end, she lifted her hips and dug into my shoulder blades. It was her oh dear, oh my God, oh sugar grip.
“Anything.” She was whispering, her breath in my ear making me shiver as I came. “You can be anything, do anything, just say you’ll stay. And that you still love me.”
“Sadie… I never stopped.”
We had breakfast in her kitchen before I went back to Dallas. I told her it really was Dallas now, and although I didn’t have a phone yet, I would give her the number as soon as I had one.
