Pushing the sheets off my sweltering body, I slipped out of bed to find a glass of water. Greg’s bedroom was dark, and I wasn’t sure I could locate the bathroom without waking him. His bedroom was large and opulent filled with expensive drapes, fabrics, and carpets.
I still couldn’t believe I was up close and personal with both Turners last night. And while the painting was, as always, breathtaking, the sex wasn’t. Not awful, but different, as I guess it should be. At least I wouldn’t be grilled by Darlene anytime soon, and Abby was too polite to pry.
Despite my efforts, Greg heard me. “Is anything wrong?”
“No, just thirsty and trying to find the bathroom.” I was tired and wanted to sleep in or until he decided to get up, but it was strange being in bed with someone.
“On my side.” He gestured to a doorway. I tiptoed trying to avoid stepping on my dress and Greg’s clothes strewn over the floor.
Inside his Victorian-styled bathroom, matching the rest of his townhouse, I gulped down cold tap water from an ornate silver cup. Surprisingly, I recognized myself in the mirror and said under my breath, “Well, now you’ve done it.”
I hadn’t made ‘a fine mess of things,’ but this was a major turning point. Sex with Axel had ended months before he died. I didn’t want to remember so never bothered to commit the exact date to memory.
I returned to bed after washing my face with cold water and self-consciously pulled the sheet over my naked body. I hoped I hadn’t smudged Greg’s expensive sheets with my makeup and wondered when he went to work. The alarm clock must be over on his nightstand since I couldn’t see what time it was. I didn’t wear my watch last night or bother bringing my phone to stay true to the 1860 period.
He leaned over on his side propping his head up on with his hand. “Did you enjoy last night?”
I rolled on my side to face him and said, “Yes, very much, thank you.”
Was he referring to the ball, dinner, or sex? I’d enjoyed all three - a once in a lifetime, storybook night. And I was glad I broke my unintended celibacy with him, so there were no regrets. He was a gentle lover, but I didn’t know if I could fall in love with him. In the darkness, I could only see his outline.
He reached over and kissed me, and I embraced him. He wasn’t a stranger anymore, and I was slowly getting used to his touch. He whispered in my ear, “Have I changed your mind?”
He meant my trip. I wanted to pull away and say no, but I kissed him and didn’t answer. The coward’s way out.
~ ~ ~
Following the sound of a piano, I walked downstairs dressed in a Yale sweatshirt and gym pants Greg had loaned me. I was grateful for something else to wear besides my fancy ball dress. I hadn’t thought ahead when I agreed to stay over.
Greg was on his phone and eating breakfast in the formal dining room. I hesitated at the door, but he waved for me to enter. His chef offered me coffee or tea. I thanked her and accepted coffee in a small, delicate cup, a teaser size for me. But to my relief, she placed a fancy coffee pot on the table.
The music flowed from his stereo. I was disappointed he wasn’t playing the piano, but that would be odd to do before work. Greg was reading the New York Times and offered me the Wall Street Journal.
“No, thanks. I’m taking a break from all that.” I never cared much for the Wall Street Journal even though it was the Bible for financial professionals. Except for some in-depth investigations and scandals, most financial reports were dull.
I sipped my coffee and looked around his ornate dining room listening to the music. I poured another cup of coffee while ignoring the homemade breakfast rolls, fruit, and cereal on the dining table.
Greg noticed. “You aren’t eating.”
“No, I’m not hungry this early. I prefer brunch.” I waited for the typical lecture on how breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but he didn’t mention it.
I noticed his dog on a small carpet in the corner of the room and took my coffee with me to pet him. I sat down on the floor next to him and whispered, “You aren’t Useless, are you? No, Ulysses, a good boy.”
Did he sleep down here last night? Maybe Greg, unlike me, didn’t sleep with his pets. “Did you name him Ulysses because of the book?”
Greg lowered the papers to peer over at me. I must look odd sitting on the floor next to his dog wearing his gym clothes. “Yes, James Joyce was the greatest author of the 20th century, possibly ever.”
Useless nuzzled my arm and wanted more petting, so I continued. “I’m sorry, Ulysses. I haven’t read your book. Not yet, but I’d like to.”
“Well, now you will have plenty of time, two months at sea, to read and broaden your education.”
Greg's tone was harsh and made me sound like I was illiterate. I read everything - books, magazines, and newspapers. My line of work required research and reading almost nonstop. Prepping to audit new business groups and keeping up with rapid changes in the industry kept me on a constant learning curve. Audit’s educational requirements were often overwhelming, but I thrived on variety and challenges.
“Ready?” He wouldn’t need to ask me twice, and I gave the dog a quick pat goodbye.
“I can take a cab home if it’s easier.”
“No, it’s not. Go get your things.” Greg sounded annoyed and started to pack his briefcase.
I ran upstairs to get my dress and handbag from last night and glanced one last time at his beautiful Turner ship painting from the Met now hanging in his bedroom. I’d probably never see it again.
“Please wish me luck, Mr. Turner. I may need it.” I walked downstairs balancing my folded bundle - the dress with its petticoats, hoop skirt, and corset.
Greg called to his chef on the way out. “Take the afternoon off. I have a client dinner tonight.”
The sunlight was bright outside, and I blinked and squinted while I greeted his driver Rakesh. I didn’t have sunglasses with me not needing them last night.
Rakesh drove skillfully around traffic and headed south on Fifth Avenue along Central Park and cut over to the Upper West Side. I thanked Greg again for a ‘remarkable evening’ trying to use the types of words he used. Awesome and fantastic weren’t part of his vocabulary.
Greg stopped me, as I slid towards the door. Rakesh double parked and got out to open the door for me. “I wish you would reconsider, Kat. What if you took a series of shorter trips over a two-month period? At least I could see you.”
“I’m already signed up, and it will go fast. But who knows? It may not work out after all, and I’ll be back earlier.”
“Kat, I understand the desire for wanderlust and adventure. Once I went to Singapore for a project, and two months turned into six. I came home when I could, but my wife was livid. I was so far away for too long. It was the beginning of the end of our marriage. My girls were young and forgot who I was.”
His experience wasn’t relevant to our situation. I hadn’t even known him a week and based on his bad mood this morning; I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue seeing him. His efforts to change my mind were having the opposite effect and made me more determined to see this through to the end.
A taxi’s horn blared from behind us since the narrow one-way street was blocked by Greg’s car. The timing of the yellow cab was perfect.
“Got to run.” I kissed Greg quickly on the cheek and jumped out. “Thanks, Rakesh.”
Right before the car door shut, he said, “Think about it, Kat. I don’t want this to happen again, not to us.”
~ ~ ~
Relieved to be home and in my own clothes again, I read an urgent email from Amber and called her back. She emailed me a ten-page attachment including sketches of ‘acceptable’ clothing. The dresses had big full skirts and looked like my dress last night. So at least I had one dress. But just in case, I printed the information to show Madame Gris.
Amber answered the phone on the first ring. “We booked a flight from JFK to Copenhagen via Heathrow on Friday night, but a new rule came into effect. Since this cruise is over sixty days and the ship is so old, MAX requires you get medical clearance. We just need a copy of your most recent physical from within the last year.”
“But I haven’t had one lately. And now with only 48 hours left there’s not enough time!”
“Sorry, this rule is mandatory. This voyage is strenuous, so you can’t have any serious health issues. Some older clients got sick and had to be evacuated recently.”
“But I’m not old. I’m only 47 and in excellent health. I work-out at the gym all the time.”
“Sorry, Kat. Fine for me, but not the company.”
But I can’t get an appointment with my doctor in two days. I’d have to book it weeks ago. Do you have a suggested doctor I can use?”
Amber put me on hold again while I fumed. This problem was the glitch Greg counted on. He must have jinxed me. Ridiculous, but how else could things get so screwed up?
Amber said, “No, we don’t have a suggested doctor. I emailed you the complete list of test results we need.”
“Well, if this is required, I may not be able to do it in time.” I played hardball, but she wasn’t receptive. I would have to talk to her manager if this didn’t work.
“Sorry. Let me know later today if you can’t. I have to cancel the booking.”
The familiar click and hum followed. Amber hadn’t even waited for me to say goodbye. She was so smug and uncaring. Didn’t she realize this trip meant everything to me? I might as well die if I don’t go. If I could have reached out through the phone and grabbed her by the neck to shake some sense into her pea-sized brain, I would have.
Immediately I called my doctor’s office getting the answer I feared. Unless I was critically ill, they couldn’t see me. A physical for a trip overseas would have to wait until next week. I gave them my number begging to be notified if there was a cancellation. But they were overbooked today and the rest of the week, so I shouldn’t expect it.
I flung myself head-first on my bed and struggled to figure out what to do. My shoulder banged up against the clipper ship book left behind. I traced the clipper ship drawing on the cover with my finger outlining the beautiful ship with its white sails furled to catch the wind.
“Wait for me. I’m coming. I’m not giving up.”
The ship was my white knight, and it would rescue me from all this. If Don Quixote can mistake windmills for giants, my ships can be men. And my ships were graceful, powerful, accommodating, and magical.
I got up determined again and googled some walk-in health clinics that had recently sprouted up around the city. One was just a few blocks away on Broadway, and the website said they handle routine physicals. I printed the email from Amber detailing the medical tests needed and ran over there.
The clinic was open, and I handed the list of tests I needed to the receptionist. She handed it over to the doctor who came out of the back office. The young physician, who looked like he was still a college student, took the list and said, “I can do most of the tests but not all. We don’t have the right equipment for some. When do you need the results?”
“Today or as soon as possible. Which ones are problems?”
“We can do the STD, HIV, cholesterol, diabetes, and thyroid screening with a simple blood test and give you a tetanus and diphtheria booster shot and the flu and yellow fever vaccines. But we don’t do pap smears or pregnancy tests.”
“They need that too?” I hadn’t bothered to look at the details in my rush to get this done. I’d need a gynecologist too.
“The T/D booster is suggested every ten years. When did you last have one?”
“I can’t remember. Go ahead just in case.”
My arms ached from giving blood for the tests and the shots. I started towards the subway and Madame Gris for more period clothes. But I shouldn’t bother if this was all going to fall through. And I’d forgotten the period clothing email printout.
On my way home, I stopped by to see Abby who usually worked from home. She asked about the cruise, and I explained my medical predicament.
“Can it be any doctor?” she asked.
“Yeah, the travel agency doesn’t care.”
“How about asking Alberto or Matteo? They are doctors and might know someone who could squeeze you in.”
“Perfect idea.” I hugged her overcome with emotion.
She dialed Alberto’s number and handed me the phone. But it went to voicemail, so I left a quick message.
“Try Matteo.” She suggested and gave me his number.
This time, he answered, and I explained the two medical tests I need. He agreed to call me back. I tried to stay optimistic. Damn tests wouldn’t destroy my plans.
~ ~ ~
When I arrived at Madame Gris’s studio, it was still in a flurry of activity, and I dreaded a long wait. I explained to the receptionist I was here yesterday and knew where the racks and dresses were and what to get, so I didn’t need help. But she was reluctant, so I had to wait.
My phone beeped. Matteo said he could get the two tests done for me later this afternoon.
One of the assistants I worked with yesterday heard me begging the receptionist a second time and said, “Come with me,” and led me to the racks. “This isn’t permitted, but I’m going to help you out.” Then she disappeared.
I sped through the clothing racks, row upon row, to where the dresses were two days ago. But the rows were a maze, and I was lost searching for an exit.
Heat radiated from within. I fought it off but became engulfed. My head spun, and pale yellowish spots appeared out of nowhere and danced around. My legs softened, and I sank down on my knees to the hard, wooden floor.
A wet, squishy towel covered my eyes and forehead and then rubbed my cheeks.
Someone said, “Can you open your eyes?”
I opened my eyes but didn’t recognize this voice or the woman either. “Miss, are you all right?”
“Of course, she isn’t all right. She fainted.”
That voice I recognized - Madame Gris herself. She sat on the floor, and her face was inches from mine. She scrutinized my face as if it might need some tailoring.
To prevent her from smoothing any wrinkles with a needle and thread, I propped myself on my elbows and said, “I’m all right. I had a blood test today and haven’t eaten yet. I’ll be fine.”
Madame Gris said, “Glad that’s all it is. Stay right where you are.” She used a softer tone I didn’t know she possessed. Two assistants hovered over me, and she barked some instructions.
“Bring the poor girl some water, juice, and whatever’s left in the break room. A bagel or muffin.”
They both scurried away to do her bidding while she yelled after them. “And if nothing’s left, go buy something.”
“I’m sorry, Madame Gris. You’re so busy. I’m trying to find some more dresses like the one I wore last night. It was the most beautiful dress at the ball, so I had my prom.”
“Ah, yes. Gregory’s lovely young friend who missed her prom.”
“Not missed. I was never invited.”
She frowned when she heard that. “I trust last night made up for it.”
I nodded. “Oh yes, very special.”
One of her assistants returned with some water and said, “Mona’s gone for a muffin. She’ll be back soon.”
I thanked her and gulped down the water. Madame Gris squatted next to me. I told her my predicament about the ship, the clothing from 1860, and how I must leave on Friday. I reached for my purse lying on the floor nearby and pulled out the paperwork to show her.
Madame Gris flipped through the pages and asked an assistant to check for hoop skirt dresses. But while she was looking, she said, “I fear we don’t have any dresses like that left in stock. They were all bought for another ball. For some strange reason, they’re insanely popular right now. And handmade so they take a week, and you don’t have a week.”
I stared at her trying to swallow more bad news.
“Go to the New Imperial Tailors on Mott Street. They use machines, but the Singers were mass produced back in 1850. They’re incredibly fast with custom orders and inexpensive too. Ask Reception for the address.”
Mona handed me a blueberry muffin and a plastic bottle of orange juice.
Madame Gris smiled and patted my arm. “Good luck, prom girlfriend,” and disappeared.
I scarfed down the muffin and drank the OJ to rejoin the living.