More Than Words

Nina thought about it.

“Maybe a museum,” she said. “We could look at paintings together, and then sneak off into a dead-end hallway and make out like teenagers.”

Rafael laughed. “I didn’t know many teenagers who made out at art museums.”

“I did,” Nina said, thinking about how she and her high school boyfriend had kissed at the MoMA just outside the room that held the Jackson Pollocks.

“Of course you did,” Rafael said.

Now Nina laughed, stopping in her dining room. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Just that you’re a classy broad, Miss Gregory. Totally out of my league.”

“Not true!” she said.

She heard Rafael sigh on the other end of the line. “Palabrecita, I’d so love to look at art and then make out with you right about now.”

Nina paused at the de Kooning hanging on her wall, the one she’d bought as a thirtieth birthday present to herself. It gave her an idea.

“Actually,” she said. “I know somewhere we could do that and no one would see, if you’re willing to take another long car ride.” She thought about what Tim had said right after her dad died about using power, using money to make someone you loved smile. Maybe he was right about that.

“What are you talking about, Palabrecita?” Rafael asked.

“The house upstate isn’t the only house I inherited,” she said, cringing at how that sounded. “My grandmother collected art, and a lot of it is out in the house in East Hampton. We can go. I’ll book us a car if you want. Or we could meet out there, if you’d rather drive yourself. Or I can drive, actually. My dad’s car is in a garage not far from you.”

Rafael was quiet for a moment. Nina wondered which part was taking him so long to process. The prospect of a long car ride? The second house? The fact that it was already ten P.M.? “What the hell,” he finally said. “Let’s do it. How about you grab your father’s car and we meet near the FDR? If it looks like some photographer is following me, I’ll let you know and we can come up with a backup plan.”

“Has it been worse?” she asked. “The photographers?”

“Not great,” Rafael said. “But this late, they usually leave me alone. We can talk about that on the ride out. Or at the Gregory Museum.”

Nina laughed. “It’s not a museum,” she said. “Maybe I oversold it. It’s just a house.”

“Uh-huh,” Rafael responded. He was laughing, too.

Nina loved making him laugh. She felt his laughter in the very core of her.

“Okay, see you soon,” she said.

“Until soon,” he answered.

74

When they got out of the car at the Gregory estate, Nina grabbed Rafael’s hand and started walking toward the house. And then realized he wasn’t moving at all. His head was tilted up. “This place is incredible,” he said.

Nina tried to see the house through his eyes. It wasn’t anything like the one upstate. This was a real Georgica Pond mansion. Seven bedrooms, nine bathrooms, a pool, a tennis court, beach access, a boat slip. It had always just been her summer house; Nina was used to it. But when she put herself in Rafael’s place, maybe it was kind of incredible.

“Come on,” she said, tugging his hand. “It’s even better inside.”

She hadn’t given Richard a heads-up that they were coming, so the house wasn’t set up the way it usually was when Nina arrived, with flowers on the tables, music on the sound system, and the refrigerator filled with food.

Nina flipped the lights on. “It’s nicer during the day,” she told Rafael, “when the sun comes through the skylights.”

Rafael looked around, taking it all in. The art on the walls, the statue in the corner, the grand staircase that led to the second floor. “It’s plenty nice now,” he said. “The whole apartment I grew up in would fit in this foyer.”

Nina could tell Rafael hadn’t really thought about it before—how much money she actually had. “I hope this house doesn’t change the way you look at me,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. “I’m still me.”

Rafael turned, looked her up and down, and smiled. “Yup,” he said. “You look exactly the same to me.” And then he leaned over and kissed her. “Is it time for the making-out-like-teenagers part of the night?” he asked.

Nina pulled away. “I promised you art,” she said. “A proper date.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Art. A date.” He slid his hand into the waistband of her jeans, into her lace underwear. “Is there more than just in this foyer?”

“The art’s all over the house,” she said, her lips against his neck.

“Bedrooms too?” he asked, sliding his finger inside her.

“Bedrooms too,” she confirmed with a gasp.

They left a trail of clothing as they went, jackets in the foyer, sweaters on the stairs, shoes in the hallway, until they stumbled into the bedroom closest to the staircase.

“Whose room is this?” Rafael asked, looking around at the whitewashed wood, the painting of Venice hanging across from the bed.

“Guest room,” Nina said. “We call it the Grubacs room. That’s who the artist is.” She waved her hand toward the painting. “See, we are getting to look at art together.”

Rafael looked at the painting, then back at Nina. “I’d rather look at you,” he said, tugging her into bed.

Nina ran her fingers up his chest and around his shoulders. “Me too,” Nina said. “I’d rather look at you.” She kissed her way down his stomach and then unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down along with his boxer briefs. Her mouth was on him, her legs up on the pillow next to his head.

As she ran her tongue up and down, she felt him unbuttoning her jeans, pulling down her underwear, and then his mouth was on her. Her body was guided by instinct, awash in pleasure. Far too soon, she felt herself climaxing, her muscles constricting around Rafael’s tongue at the same time that the salty taste of him filled her mouth. She rolled away from him and swallowed, then propped herself up on her elbows. They were facing each other, and she was smiling. Rafael wasn’t, though. His face looked . . . she couldn’t tell how it looked.

“What is it?” Nina asked. She was worried all of a sudden. It was the house. It was her. She’d done something wrong. Wanted too much.

“Truth?” he asked.

“Truth,” she answered, scared to hear it, but knowing she needed to. “Always truth.”

He sat up, away from the pillows. “I’m . . . I’m afraid,” he said.

Nina cocked her head sideways. She didn’t know what to make of that. “Of me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Of losing you,” Rafael said. “Of you breaking my heart. Seeing you in this house . . . I don’t know how I’d ever be able to keep you.”

“What do you mean?” Nina asked.

Rafael sighed. “Do you know the story of my divorce?” he asked.

Nina was trying to follow his train of logic. She was supposed to know how his brain worked—it had been her job. But now, she wasn’t sure where he was going. “Something about a helicopter?” she asked.

Rafael smiled. “That’s the part everyone always remembers. I did take her on a helicopter ride around Manhattan for our third anniversary, but it was because I knew I was losing her. I knew she wasn’t happy. And when we talked the next morning, she told me there was someone else.”

“Oh,” Nina said, moving so that her head was next to Rafael’s. So she was holding his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“It nearly destroyed me,” Rafael said. “I took leave from work. I drank too much. I watched Law and Order marathons. I felt like an idiot. Like a failure. And I couldn’t figure it out. How could she do that to me?”

Nina listened, her heart breaking for Rafael, angry at this woman who had hurt him so badly, but jealous, too, that he’d cared so much about her. And then wondering if in the future, Tim would be telling someone the story of their relationship, and she would be the villain, the woman who had hurt him like that.

“I blamed the other guy. That asshole for taking her from me. But then I realized, her affair wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t the disease, just the symptom. And then I was able to take a step back and see all the problems in our relationship. All the infections that were brewing deep in its vital organs. And I got past what she did. I got over it. But I don’t want to have to do it again. Now that I’ve seen the world you grew up in . . . how could I ever think I could make you happy?”

“First of all,” Nina said, “the two of us being happy together has nothing to do with the way either of us grew up. And second of all, infections can be treated, can be healed. We’ll just have to be on the lookout. Make sure we catch them early before they have a chance to spread.”

Rafael grabbed Nina’s other hand and faced her. “Can you promise me we’ll do that?” he said.

Nina took her right hand out of Rafael’s and held it up, palm out. “I promise,” she said. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”