Hand in Hand

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—Originally publshed in The Roanoke Review, Fall 1996

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    “She’s only trying to salvage the poor quality goods she calls her daughter.” She eyed him. “Not much longer now.”
    They stood looking at each other.
    Clarissa turned away. “Listen, don’t take the time to change or wash up. Come in while we get dinner. Ma planned it especially for the three of us. Sort of a going away party for you and a farewell-to-the-bride for me. We’re starting with Dom Perignon’59.”
    “Dom Perignon. Oh, Sissy . . .” His eyes misted. “‘Put out the light, then put out the light . . . No way but this’ . . . do you remember? . . . ‘Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.’ Drinking Dom Perignon and reading Othello.”
    “No talking about kissing or dying tonight. ‘No way but this—’”
    Sam felt the quiver at the base of his spine.
    “Do you suppose,” Grace said from the doorway, “that I could impose on the two of you to help?” She had taken off her Kelly green suit jacket and put on a linen apron.
    “Gloria Swanson’s hailing from the ramparts, Sissy,” Sam said, straight-faced. “I think it’s time for the orgy.”
    Clarissa swallowed a giggle.
    “Sam—” Grace said.
    “Bette Davis,” Clarissa said behind her hand.
    “Sam, the champagne is in the ice bucket on the bar. You see to that while Sissy fixes the salad.”
    As Sam walked through the swinging door, the flavor of the long dining room washed over him. The black lacquer dinner table was set for three with pearl china and crystal goblets as he expected. The sliding glass doors to the balcony were open, and the savor of jasmine with an aftertaste of sea salt filled the air. From this room, he and Clarissa had watched gray velvet winter evenings and buttery summer afternoons. They had talked through many nights, then moved to the balcony to feel the first touch of dawn. Hello, room. I love you, too.
    He carried three glasses of champagne to the kitchen on a tray. “You two look like you’re preparing the Last Supper.”
    “This has to be right, Sam.” Clarissa was rubbing a wooden bowl with a garlic clove. “The three of us are together again tonight, probably for the last time.”

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