The Girl in the Face of the Clock (8 page)

“So, let me look at you, Janie,” said Elinore after they had taken their seats. “You're all grown-up, and you've dyed your hair red, isn't that fun? Now I want to hear everything. What's been going on with your … you know … that fighting stuff you do and all that? And your dad, how's he?”

“He's fine,” said Jane meaninglessly, still trying to locate Elinore's old face within all the extra flesh, unable to get over how much she had changed.

“We used to have marvelous conversations in the old days, your father and I,” said Gregory King, his face suddenly serious. “Very nice man. Really a shame about what happened.”

Their waitress, a slender and crisply efficient young blonde with the poise of an actress (which she probably was), placed menus in front of them and departed.

“It's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Janie, after all these years,” Gregory King went on.

“Oh, you've met her before, Greg,” said Elinore. “What's the matter with you?”

“No, he's right,” said Jane. “We've never met.”

“Well, that's amazing,” said Elinore, picking something out of her ear. “I thought everyone knew Greg. He's a doctor, you know. An endocrinologist, whatever the hell that is. Why couldn't you be a plastic surgeon, that's what I want to know? That's where all the money is.”

“That's right,” said Greg with a big laugh. “That's where the real money is. But actually the secretions of the thyroid, the adrenals and the pituitary glands are very …”

“Everything here is so wonderful,” said Elinore, cutting him off. “We'll have to have appetizers and everything. And save room for dessert. This dinner is going to cost us an absolute fortune, but you're worth it, Janie. You're the daughter of a great painter, you know.”

Elinore opened her fancy menu and started reading off the dishes and rattling on about how wonderful and fantastic everything was. Jane finally settled on Copper River salmon and wild mushrooms. The Kings opted for the veal. Dr. King ordered a pair of two-hundred-dollar California cabernets against Jane's protests. Elinore made sure that everyone within earshot understood how much it would cost.

“So you practice on the East Side?” Jane asked Dr. King when the waitress departed with their orders.

“He has an office on Park Avenue,” answered Elinore. “For all those people with endocrine problems.”

Elinore laughed uproariously at her little joke. So did Dr. King. Jane tried to smile.

“I'm also affiliated with Yorkville East End,” he said proudly.

“They just brought my father there for tests,” said Jane without thinking. “It's a very good hospital, I understand.”

“What kind of tests?” demanded Elinore.

“Oh, just some tests,” said Jane, mentally kicking herself for bringing it up.

“I thought he was … that your father was … you know,” said Elinore, waving her hand at the side of her head. Suddenly, her expression changed. “Is there something new? Is he taking a turn for the worse? Oh, my God! Is it, you know? Like … the end?”

“He just took a fall and has been mumbling things, that's all,” said Jane.

“What a relief,” said Elinore, placing one hand over her titanic bosom and fanning herself with the other. “I was worried there for a minute. I thought he was … you know. But is he waking up? Do they think he's going to wake up?”

Jane shook her head.

“My God,” shrieked Elinore, “it must be costing you a mint! That hospital is the most expensive place in town.”

Jane shrugged.

“I promise to look in on him this week, Janie,” said Gregory soberly. “See how things are going.”

“Janie, Jane honey, Jane,” said Elinore, patting Jane's hand, her piggy eyes sparkling. “I know we've maybe had our little differences, but you know I'm your friend, don't you? We go back … since you were … you know, like a teenager and all. I care about you. I really do. If you want to talk, I'm always there for you. And if you need help with the money, I'm sure we can think of something. I know you don't have a pot to pee in.”

“Actually, Perry Mannerback is paying,” said Jane in her sweetest voice. Now that the cat was out of the bag she might as well see where it would run.

“Perry Mannerback!” exclaimed Elinore, looking genuinely astonished. “How did you get Perry Mannerback to pay?”

“I didn't get him to pay. He volunteered. I'm working for him.”

“No!” said Elinore, falling back against her chair in amazement. “When did this happen?”

“I called him up to talk about my father and he offered me a job,” said Jane, happy to see Elinore so nonplussed.

“That's fantastic,” said Elinore. “Simply fantastic. But I still don't understand. Why is he paying for Aaron?”

“Actually, I'm not really sure myself,” said Jane. “Do you know of any reason why my father might be mumbling things about Perry, repeating his name?”

“I'm thinking,” said Elinore, holding up her fork like a divining rod. “I'm trying to think. But nothing's happening.”

“Isn't this a lovely room?” asked Gregory King. “It reminds me of…”

“Will you please shut up, Greg?” snapped Elinore. “You're so stupid. What's the matter with you?”

“I just …”

“He's always like that,” said Elinore to Jane angrily. “He just butts in like the village idiot. It's really amazing he could get through medical school. Do you know that, Greg? Do you know how stupid you are sometimes?”

“Yes, yes,” said Gregory, reddening. “That's probably true. I'm sorry, El.”

Jane looked away in embarrassment. If the purpose of this evening was to win Jane's trust, Elinore certainly had a strange way of going about it. Did she really think she would make a better impression by castrating her husband before the appetizer?

“You know what I think?” declared Elinore, buttering a roll and stuffing it into her mouth.

“About what?” asked Jane, wondering how she was going to get through an entire evening of this.

“I think Perry Mannerback is trying to hook up with you so he can get an inside line on more of Aaron's paintings.”

Jane couldn't keep from rolling her eyes, the idea was so ridiculous.

“No, I'm not kidding,” pressed Elinore. “Perry owns that one painting of Aaron's and he wants another.”

“I really don't think so.”

“Janie,” said Elinore to Jane, shaking her head. “Darling. Sweetie. You're a very smart girl. You're a brilliant girl. But you're very naïve about a lot of things. You don't know how these people operate. This Perry Mannerback is a very shrewd and sharp operator. If he's paying for all these tests for Aaron, he's not doing it for charity, believe me.”

“Charity is practically his middle name,” said Jane. “He spends most of his time giving away his money.”

“Which is why he's probably looking for a nice painting he can give himself,” said Elinore triumphantly.

The waitress arrived with their expensive wine at this point, mercifully cutting her short. The next hour was a blur of fancy food, husband-bashing, and Elinore's opinions about everything under the sun.

Jane found herself drinking more than she was used to and tuning out. It wasn't until dessert and Sauternes that Elinore finally brought the conversation to what she really wanted: Aaron Sailor's paintings.

“So, Janie, honey,” she said, sticking her spoon into Jane's
crème brûlée
and helping herself to a taste. “You don't mind if I try a little of this, do you?”

“I'm not going to ask for it back,” said Jane wearily.

“I think I know what's bothering you. It's the percentage, isn't it?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You know,” said Elinore. “The seventy percent I'm getting from Aaron. That's what a dealer gets, it's totally standard, believe me. Isn't it totally standard, Greg?”

“I …” Greg agreed before she cut him off.

“I'm the one who has all the expenses,” said Elinore. “I'm the one who does all the work, but I understand how you feel. We can split sixty-forty if that's what you want. That's incredibly fair. I don't care about the money. It's not the money I'm doing this for, it's your father.”

“I'm glad you've brought this up, Elinore,” said Jane, happy that she could finally put her cards on the table. “I've tried to tell you how I feel about this before, but I haven't been able to get through to you. Please listen to me. I'm not ready to sell my father's paintings. They're all I have left of him. Maybe I'll want to do something in the future, but not now. I'm just not going to do anything right now. Okay?”

“You're right to take your time,” said Elinore. “You're very smart. I mean, I don't want to say this, Janie, this is the last thing I would ever say in a million years, but if Aaron dies, everything is going to be even more valuable, that's all I'm saying. Just think about it, that's all I ask. I know you need the money. You can't imagine the work I've had to do to get everything to this point. Remember, you owe me.”

“Look, Elinore,” said Jane evenly, “I'm trying to be nice about this, but I don't owe you anything. The Fyfe decided to include my father in their show on their own, not because of anything you've done. I haven't heard from you for eight years. Now all of a sudden it's like you're all over me, and it isn't because you like me so much or respect my father's work, it's just about money. Let's be honest.”

Elinore brought her hand to her bosom.

“Janie, Janie. You're really hurting me, you know that? Here we're having this beautiful dinner, and you're making me sound like I'm some kind of monster. I mean, if I were this big monster, why would so many artists come to me? They love me, they owe their careers to me, their entire careers. Don't they, Greg? I'm not such a monster, Greg? Am I?”

“No, no,” said Greg, “of course not.”

“Of course not,” agreed Elinore, whacking the table with her spoon for emphasis. “You know, Janie, just because I'm a successful art dealer doesn't mean that I'm not still a woman with a heart and feelings and all that.”

Jane didn't say anything, damned if she was going to let Elinore manipulate her into feeling guilty.

“Just think about it, don't say yes or no, just think about it, that's all I ask,” said Elinore. “That article is going to be in the what-do-you-call-it magazine tomorrow. The
Times
. There's going to be big new interest in Aaron's paintings and we've got to take advantage of it. That's why Perry Mannerback is doing all of this for your father, you'll see. It's just like I said—he has that one painting and he wants another. That's what this is all about.”

“Fine, let's talk about Perry's painting,” said Jane. The evening wouldn't be a total waste if Elinore could just answer a few questions. “Do you know who the model for it was?”

“The naked girl, you mean? I met her at some party your father brought her to. Creepy-looking, if you ask me. And she didn't have a good body at all, not at all.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Don't have a clue,” said Elinore dismissively, trying to scrape a last bit of chocolate from her empty dessert plate. “She wasn't even pretty. She was nothing.”

“Did Perry Mannerback know her?” asked Jane.

Elinore shrugged.

“I have no idea,” she said. “I suppose Aaron could have introduced them. Why? Don't tell me Perry wants another painting with that same girl in it? What an idiot! Aaron only used her in that one painting.”

The table fell silent. Jane tried not to feel disappointed. Elinore looked over to her husband, who hadn't touched the kiwi tart in front of him and was staring into his Sauternes.

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” she demanded.

“Oh, I'm just thinking about poor Aaron,” he said with a sigh.

“Hey,” said Elinore, brightening. “I got an idea. Janie, why don't you bring Perry over to the gallery this week? Then we can find out for sure what he's looking for.”

“I told you, Elinore. He's not interested in art.”

“Just take five minutes. Five minutes won't hurt you. Can't you do that much for me after all I've done for you?”

Jane couldn't stand it any longer. She had controlled herself the entire evening, but now she could actually see herself in choreographic detail grabbing Elinore by the hair, banging her head a dozen times on the table, and then stuffing a napkin down her throat. It was time to bail out.

“This really has been fun,” Jane said, standing up, looking at her watch. “But look at the time. I'm afraid I have to be going. Thank you for a lovely dinner.”

“But it's still early,” screeched Elinore. “I thought we'd go out for an after-dinner drink. You're not going to desert us so soon, are you? We're having such a good time.”

“I'm sorry, but I have to go.”

“So nice to have met you, Janie,” said Greg with a big smile, reaching over and shaking Jane's hand. He had stood up the moment she had risen from the table. “Don't worry about a thing. I'll look in on Aaron. I'm sure they'll take good care of him.”

“Wait a second, Janie, here's another thought,” said Elinore, waving her napkin for attention. “If you don't want to come by the gallery, why don't I stop by Perry's office next week? That way you can reintroduce us in an informal kind of way. We could talk about art.”

“I'm afraid that won't be possible,” said Jane curtly. “We're going to be out of town. We're leaving Monday morning for Seattle.”

“That's fantastic,” said Elinore, grabbing Jane's sleeve. “My daughter lives in Seattle. She's a fantastic girl. Isn't she, Greg?”