Night Passage

Chapter 23

When Jennifer called, Jesse was on his third drink, sitting on his tiny deck overlooking the harbor with his chair tilted back, balancing with one foot on the deck rail.

“I need to talk,” she said when he answered.

“Okay,” Jesse said.

He added some ice to his glass and poured more scotch over it. He took the drink and the portable handset back out onto the deck, and sat down again, and hunched the handset between his shoulder and neck, and drank some scotch.

“I’m through with Elliott,” Jennifer said.

“Un huh.”

“Are you glad?”

Jesse took another drink. Across the harbor, the lights on Paradise Neck seemed untethered in the thick night.

“I’m trying to get to a place where what you do doesn’t make me glad or sad,” Jesse said.

“You’re drinking, aren’t you, Jesse,” Jennifer said. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“Or you can hear the ice rattle in the glass when I take a sip,” Jesse said.

“Don’t you want to know why I broke up with Elliott?”

“He and Tommy Cruise decided to make the picture without you?”

“There’s no need to be hateful, Jesse.”

“Maybe there is,” he said.

Jennifer was silent for a time. When she spoke it was with a kind of desperate dignity.

“I can’t just sit here on the phone and let you beat up on me, Jesse.”

“No,” Jesse said, “you can’t. I’ll try not to.”

“Thank you.”

“So how come you broke up with Elliott,” Jesse said.

“And I don’t need to be humored, either,” Jennifer said.

“Jenn,” Jesse said, “I didn’t call you. You want to talk, I’ll listen.”

There was a pause. He heard the clink of glassware and realized she was drinking too. Probably white wine. Couple of lushes, Jesse thought, three thousand miles apart... Better than drinking alone, I guess.

“Do you remember that ridiculous girlfriend Elliott had with him when we had dinner once at Spago?” Jennifer said.

“Taffy.”

“Yes, that’s right. God, Jesse, you always remember stuff. She was like an ornament, you know, like his Rolex.”

“A way to look successful,” Jesse,said.

“That’s right, well, I suppose everyone wants to look successful, but...”

“There’s better ways,” Jesse said.

“Like being successful?” Jennifer said.

“That’s one,” Jesse said.

She wasn’t stupid. She was ditzy enough so you could think she was, but she wasn’t. She understood a lot, when she permitted herself to think.

“Well, he was starting to treat me like Taffy. You know?”

“I’m shocked,” Jesse said.

“Don’t make fun of me, Jesse. It’s too easy to do.”

“Yes,” Jesse said. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“So I called him on it. I told him I wasn’t, you know, like a new hat he could wear around and hang up when he wasn’t using it. And he got really mad, and said he was sick of getting used by all the stupid starlets that he tried to help and a lot of other things... and I started to cry and told him to go fuck himself and got up and walked out of the place.”

“Good for you,” Jesse said.

“I feel like an asshole for crying,” Jennifer said.

“Everybody cries,” Jesse said. “The important thing is you didn’t let him use you.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer said.

They were silent across the continent while each of them drank.

Then Jennifer said, “But now what am I going to do?”

“What are you going to do about what?” Jesse said.

“I don’t have a job,” Jennifer said. Her voice was shaky and he knew that she wasn’t far from crying. “My career is going nowhere. I’m alone, and I’ve lost the only decent thing that ever happened in my life.”

“Meaning me?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not like we’re enemies, Jenn.”

“Oh, Jesse, I want to see you.”

“Until the next producer comes along?”

“Don’t, Jesse. I need to see you.”

“Not right now, Jenn. Let things settle. Get yourself organized a little before you decide what you need. Maybe you might get some help, a shrink or somebody.”

“I have some friends in therapy,” Jennifer said.

“If you do get help, Jenn, try to get real help. Not some nitwit that reads your aura or does crystal therapy.”

“You think I’m a dreadful fool, don’t you, Jesse.”

“I think you do foolish things, sometimes, Jenn. I don’t think you’re dreadful.”

They drank. Jesse’s glass was empty; he got up, holding the phone, and refilled his glass with ice and scotch.

“Have you met anyone, Jesse?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love her?”

“Not yet,” Jesse said.

“I still love you, Jesse.”

Across the harbor the lights were fewer now as people went to bed. And the ones that still glowed in the black night were more separate and much farther apart.

“Do you still love me, Jesse?”

“I’m trying not to, Jenn.”

“I know, I don’t blame you. But I... I don’t like to think about life without you.”

Again Jesse was silent, looking at the disconnected pinpoints of light in the overreaching darkness.

“Can I see you sometime, Jesse?”

“Sure,” Jesse said. “But right now we both need to be a little separate so we can get our heads back in order, I think.”

“Can I call you again?”

“Sure, Jenn. You can call me anytime.”

“I still love you, Jesse.”

“Take care of yourself, Jenn. Don’t do anything impulsively. It’s time to go slow and think things through. If you feel crazy, call me up.”

“Are you succeeding?” Jennifer said.

“Succeeding?”

“You said you were trying not to love me, Jesse. Are you succeeding?”

Jesse took a long breath and let it out and drank some scotch. In the harbor, invisible in the darkness, a bell buoy sounded.

“Not so far, Jenn.”