Short Story

After The Second Night

From: Fyodor MacClesh
To: Suzanne Beauchamp
Sent: Feb 6, 2011, 5:30 pm
Subject: New Haven


Dear PL,

Just got back to town. Snow has fallen in Albany and the Capitol grounds look absolutely beautiful. Certain parts of this city look great in the snow and tap into that romantic side, which lately only you have an opportunity to see.

I hope your train rides to NYC and Island Park were tranquil. You might want to get a car, as it would have been an easier trip. Or better yet, I should just go down to Island Park and get you next time I want you to go anywhere with me.

Let me just say this: while that night in my hotel room, was fantastic, the first time, after all that writing and talking, this was even better and I felt even more comfortable with where we are going with this…friendship. The hotel wasn’t great, but we didn’t really need much more than a bed and a shower anyway. But your company was outstanding. Thanks for coming all the way up to New Haven to meet me.

Thanks for indulging my desire to hang out at the bar for a few hours and listen to Saturday afternoon jazz. And thanks for hanging out at the Owl Cigar Shop. I enjoy a good cigar now and then, and even more, I enjoyed sharing a little bourbon with you.

Mostly, I enjoyed the walk to the hotel, the silent ride in the elevator, and I appreciated your patience and assistance as I tried to figure out the room key.

You are a wonderful woman, Suzanne. I am lucky to know you.

Waking up with you was just as special. Your dark auburn hair, your green eyes, your tanned back. The pearls you left on at my request. Your peaceful, close-mouthed smile. I wish I had brought a sketch book to capture the moment. I’ll keep it in my head. I might paint it later.

A while back, between our first night together and the time we agreed to reunite, you seemed fearful of our continued connection…or fearful of another physical meeting. What scared you? Was it the idea that we might be disillusioned with each other? Or was it the idea that this could end? Both of us are free and happy agents. Both of us are open in our love and in our expression of it. Both of us savored the intimacy that we shared last night and neither of us has any expectations of the other. What scared you?

It is ok though, because I am scared too. Frightened of the idea that you may lose interest in and tire of me. Frightened that you might learn what a fraud I am as an artist. Frightened that you might just find someone better, leaving me abandoned and alone…again. Frightened when you realize that my dark side…the drinking, the brooding, the thoughts…is darker than you once believed. Not sure I want to go down this path again, even though I warned you and you brushed it off.

Strange also is that I’ve not wanted any kind of domestic arrangement with any woman since my marriage ended, and I know I don’t want one now. But, I want you to know, after our time in New Haven and after last night, I am not afraid of one with you. We are both wild and passionate people, Suzanne, but I found in you last night a tranquility which I have desired. There are others whom I’ve invited to visit me in 13 years when I get to Spain – yes, that again! – but none whom I think I would be happy spending too much time there…other than you. There are others whose company I would enjoy up here, now, but probably not so long as I would enjoy you.

Do not admonish me for these thoughts. Perhaps I should not think out loud. We are different people. You travel, shoot photographs, write fiction, design costumes and supervise fittings. You are more social than me, and I am more the recluse. I know we can be lovers for a long time…at least until I move to Spain…but be assured that I do not want to make a housewife or domestic partner out of you. I need you free. I love you free. Your body, your mind, your soul. All free.

Tomorrow, I turn 43 years old, and yet I feel younger. For the first time. Perhaps it is merely the euphoria of the weekend, the vision of you lying naked in my bed, or perhaps the rush from the Boston Cream donut from the shop in West Springfield. But this weekend, in you, I found something that I felt I had lost:

Faith in my own future. And myself.

This is a cheesy e-mail, dear Suzanne, but it needed to be said…or written. While after all our writing and then the first night in New York, I knew I was hooked. After New Haven, it’s worse: I am devoted. Even if you can’t or won’t be with me…for travel, work, other lovers, etc., I am devoted. And am willing to forge a future that is unique and our own.

All my best.

Ted

p.s. – photos to follow.