Authors: Roberta Latow
‘What stopped you, Dendre?’ he asked brazenly.
‘I saw you writing a card to go with them.’
‘You’re not going to ask who I sent them to?’
‘No. I just want you to know that no matter how discreet you are, it still hurts. Although a little less each time.’
‘Good, my love,’ he told her, and took her in his arms.
Dendre said no more. There was little she could say. It was one of those situations where one more word might tip the balance and their life together would be damaged or, worse still, over.
‘Dendre, I never want you to be hurt by my flirtations. Just remember, they are a passing fancy. Of no more importance than that in our lives. I will always love you more than any of them,’ he told her as he caressed her and they gazed into each other’s eyes.
Dendre could see that it was true. It was what she needed to hear to close her mind to his other women. She had the ability immediately to block out anything unpleasant, pretend it had never happened. She put that to work now and asked Gideon if he would like pancakes for breakfast.
From that day on Dendre pulled back considerably from the social side of the art world and gave her husband what he had always wanted from her; a family life to come home to. She deduced that the less she saw of his flirtations, the easier it would be on her. The one thing she knew for sure was that he loved her, needed her as much as she needed him. She had a place in his life that no dalliance could undermine. Where would he find a wife as tolerant of everything he wanted and blessed with enough strength and love to give it to him? He had laid down the ground rules before they were married; he meant to be a free man with a life of his own and to have one with her on his terms. Now, all these years later, he was still that man and she as his wife would give him what he wanted. Still very much in love with Gideon and living an exciting life, she retreated more into the background. Her happiest times were when they stayed on Fire Island or in the Hydra house where he worked feverishly, assisted by his now well-trained helpers. Those times she had him all to herself.
As time went by, without even realising it, Dendre created a life of her own: being the wife of Gideon Palenberg, bringing up her daughters, dealing with the now large staff who followed them everywhere. Most important of all, being sexually active and loved.
At a first night exhibition and dinner at the Museum of Modern Art which she attended with Gideon, she hardly had a chance to walk with him through the gallery. He was swept away by dozens of people who wanted to speak with the now great man of art. At dinner he flirted outrageously with a beautiful young woman. For one moment Dendre found it intolerable, then her anxiety faded when she reminded herself he was free to do as he wanted. She had agreed that before they were married.
Ben Borgnine was sitting to her left and Max Ernst to her right. Ben had always been interested in her; Max thought her boring and insignificant. She turned to Ben who was talking to the girl on his left.
‘Ben, remember me, I’m still here,’ she whispered in his ear.
He laughed and after a few more words with the other lady, turned to look at Dendre. ‘I may have been making chit-chat but you know you are always in my thoughts.’
‘I think I like that,’ she told him, and realised it was actually true. ‘Why?’ she asked happily.
‘Because you and I have a great deal in common. We are both obsessed with Gideon. Me with his paintings and creative mind, and a determination that one day I will be his dealer. You because he is the most exciting and unique man and lover and has moulded you into a fascinating, very sexy lady whom I have wanted to bed for a long time.’
‘You overwhelm me, Ben. I had no idea you wanted me in that way,’ she told him.
‘I gave you many hints.’
‘Ben, you and my brother are the only ones who have ever accused me of being obsessive! I’ll answer you as I answered him: “So what!” Orlando’s reply to that was, “Your obsession with Gideon is not healthy for either one of you.” I told him that may be so, but my obsession made me the wife of one of the most exciting men in the world, and incidentally very happy. I am famous as his wife, his model, the mother of the three children he adores.’
‘And?’ he probed.
‘I’m flattered to think you want to bed me. But you might find me as dull and boring sexually as the art world pundits think I am.’
‘Not all of them,’ he told her.
‘I’ve never had an affair,’ she confessed.
‘That’s hard for me to believe, maybe because I have for years fantasised how you and I would be together. Turn my fantasies to reality. Come to lunch at my place tomorrow.’
‘An assignation in the afternoon? That in itself is exciting. I have only one reservation. We have been good friends for a very long time, I wouldn’t want to lose that friendship because in a misguided moment of passion we became lovers. I will never leave Gideon.’
‘I love you, Dendre, but I am not
in love
with you and I accept that you will never leave him.’
The temptation to add a lover to her life was hard to resist and she did find Ben attractive, always had. They were interrupted by a waiter changing plates and the woman on his left once again engaged him in conversation. Throughout the rest of dinner he was unable to break away from the young woman. As everyone was rising from the table to have after dinner drinks and coffee, Dendre whispered in his ear, ‘Do you swear to keep it our secret?’
‘If that’s what you want,’ he whispered back.
Just at that moment Gideon arrived and placed a kiss upon her cheek and an arm around her shoulders to take her to meet someone.
In the gallery, after several introductions, she found herself alone which was not unusual unless someone wanted to talk her into arranging an introduction to Gideon. She worked her way through the crowd and found Ben.
‘Yes,’ she told him.
‘You seem far away, a little lost. May I join you?’ asked one of the regulars at The Sounion.
Dendre greeted the man as he took a seat at her table. ‘Tassos, how nice to see you. I was far away, drifting in time, remembering some of the highs and lows of my life.’
‘Not such a good idea, Mrs Palenberg. Better to live in the present. What was, was. The good things and the bad. Now let me buy you a drink.’ And he snapped his fingers for service.
Dendre placed a hand on his arm and told him, ‘Thank you Tassos, wise words. I’ve been wallowing in the past out of pure self-indigence. But no, thank you very much for the offer but I’ve had a long, difficult day. What I need now is to go home.’
Dendre shook the man’s hand and found Dimitri at the bar, talking politics with a group of Greek sailors. It made her smile. Reminded her that the Greeks’ national pastime was talking politics and always passionately. It made her long to be in the Hydra house.
Dimitri was appalled when Dendre told him not to ring for a cab, she would walk home. ‘Dressed like that, in this neighbourhood, at this hour? No,’ he told her. She acquiesced, he was right, this was not Hydra or even Athens where it was safe at any time, night or day.
All the lights were on in Gideon’s studio. Several in the apartment above where they lived. It was three in the morning. Gideon and the girls will have been worried, especially Amber, she thought. Dendre walked up the three flights and let herself in.
Orlando, Gideon, and Adair pounced on her the moment she entered the apartment. ‘Where on earth have you been? We’ve been worried half to death,’ said Orlando.
Before Dendre could say a word, Gideon took her by the arm
and ushered her into the bedroom. There he kissed her then told her, ‘I was more shocked than worried not to find you here. I think this is the first time in all our married life you’ve not been here waiting for me. Where were you? Why did you leave the museum?’
Dendre realised then that Orlando had been right: her feeling for Gideon had been, and still was, more obsession than love. She could see it so clearly now: how she had become obsessive as a defence mechanism to keep him from leaving her. What had brought her to her senses was Gideon’s open display of love for Adair, for all the world to gossip about. How he’d barely paid attention to Dendre all evening, never acknowledging her as the one woman, his wife, who enriched his life. He had accepted the immense honour he had been given with not a mention of her name when without Dendre he might never have become the great artist that he was. He knew it, Dendre knew it, and she felt the world should have been told.
They were gazing into each other’s eyes. There was no love for her in Gideon’s; caring possibly, maybe a little concern. She hated the look he gave her now. He had never had it before Adair had come on the scene. Dendre had seen so many women come and go in their lives: mistresses, short romances, one-night stands. When he was smitten with one there was always a portrait, and once that was finished so was the woman. With Adair it had been different right from the start. This beautiful young creature who was everything that Dendre was not had wound herself into Gideon’s soul with her mind, her wit and her body. She had something special that all the others did not. Adair could talk art with the same passion and keenness as Gideon. She could and did stand up and challenge him.
She
was no one’s door mat for love. Quite the opposite.
The truth was Adair had now become Gideon’s chief muse; she and her bright mind were inspirational to him. She was adding a new and exciting dimension to his life. His work had a new freshness to it that drew more accolades than ever. That had always been the way with Gideon; in every new painting or sculpture, every work of art he created, there was another subtle innovation, a surge of creative passion. Something to open the mind and soul and lift one out of the
mundane to rise a little higher, experience the beautiful and profound.
Dendre stepped away from him. ‘I was at The Sounion. I’m surprised you didn’t work that out. Why did I leave the museum? That’s too complicated to go into now.’
She recognised a flash of anger on his face. ‘If you have something to say about this bizarre behaviour of yours, then come out and say it.’
Orlando was right, Dendre should be cautious. She still loved her husband, whether obsessively or not, their children, the lifestyle he had given her. She knew she would have to turn her obsession back to love and herself into an exciting individual in her own right if she was still to remain Gideon Palenberg’s wife.
‘Your winning the Medal of Honour, the exhibition, the dinner party … it was spectacular. I’m afraid I was overwhelmed by it all and became emotional. My mind kept playing tricks on me and I somehow felt disorientated. That’s why I left the museum and went to The Sounion.’
Relief that there was not going to be a confrontation showed on Gideon’s face. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, deeply and with passion. ‘I love you. I will always love you. We’ve come a long way together. I’ll ask Orlando to take Adair home.’
Gideon never lied, and he wasn’t lying now. She knew he loved her – but for what she had been, obsessively in love with him, which at this time in his life was not enough. Together they walked from the bedroom to the drawing room and bade Adair and Orlando good night. Once in bed, still high on the evening, Gideon pulled Dendre into his arms. They were lying on their side facing each other. She waited for a caress, some words of love, but in vain. Instead he draped one of her legs over his hip and reached between them, parted her most intimate lips and thrust forcefully into her.
All her pent-up emotion broke and she called out as she slipped into sexual bliss. Gideon drove deeply into her again and again. He moved with a slowness he knew would give her the greatest pleasure. They came together in exquisite orgasm that seemed to fire their lust. They were on another plane, lost in an erotic landscape. As Dendre and Gideon dissolved in their
many orgasms they were reborn again and again, freed of their egos, nothing more than two souls in love with lust.
The following morning when he kissed her awake he did not mention the night before. She thought she saw a troubled look, an unease, in his face. Did he in spite of himself still love her? Had the sex been more than sublime? Was he as much in love with his wife as he was with Adair?
He had them both but it was Adair calling the shots, not Gideon, while Dendre played the submissive, loving wife. She had no doubt in her mind that if she confronted Gideon about Adair, he would leave her for his mistress. Dendre saw herself as going to war to save her marriage. To do that she would have to do battle with both Gideon and Adair. Once she had worked that out a new sense of confidence took her over and she felt happy in a different way than ever before.
Dendre made breakfast for Gideon and herself: large glasses of orange juice, omelettes filled with chicken livers and mushroom, toasted brioche, apricot jam and a pot of coffee. Yukio carried it down the stairs to the studio and arranged the food on the small dining table where more often than not Gideon breakfasted alone.
Dendre followed him down the stairs and saw Gideon preparing a new canvas. Absorbed in his work, he hadn’t heard them. It gave her a minute or two to study her husband. She could understand why women fell in love with him. He had such energy, the charisma of greatness seemed to ooze from every pore in his body. He had such passion. Just to meet him once was a privilege. Everyone wants to touch greatness at least once in their life and she had been living with it for thirty odd years. She did not intend that to stop. She said to herself, Move out of my life, Adair, or take the consequences.
Gideon heard his wife’s laughter echoing all the way round the vast studio. He stopped his work and Yukio called out, ‘Breakfast, Gideon.’
At the table he said, ‘It’s a long time since I heard you laugh like that. I like it when you’re happy, the way you sound this morning.’
‘Let’s go to the Hydra house! I long for the island and the
sea. Just a month or two there then straight to Fire Island for the summer?’ suggested Dendre.
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Is it an anti-climax for you this morning after such a star-studded gala, having the world handed to you on a platter?’ she asked.
‘No. I feel no anti-climax. Proud maybe, a little self-satisfied, extremely happy for the recognition and the knowledge I will never have to think about money again. Nor will you or my girls.’ He stopped eating for a moment and then added, ‘This omelette is fantastic. I was hungry as hell. You
are
a wonder with eggs, Dendre.’
They ate in silence for several minutes, each of them lost in thought. Dendre’s were about her adversary, Adair, who hated the kitchen as much as Dendre loved it. Adair could just about make coffee; Dendre was a master chef after years of cookery courses.
A plan was forming in her mind about how to rid herself of Adair and keep her husband. She conceded it was not going to be easy, but she was determined not to be depressed about having to do it. Rather to have fun being a bitch. Gideon broke the silence. Dendre felt a twinge of guilt. Being devious and assertive did not come easily to her.
‘You seem a bit jumpy this morning,’ he said. ‘Is anything bothering you?’
‘No. Let’s put it down to not having enough sleep, but I’m not complaining.’
‘Well, I should hope not,’ said Gideon with a broad smile on his face.
‘You know, we’re shameless in bed for a couple who have been together so long,’ she told him, returning his smile.
‘Well, it isn’t as if we hadn’t worked on it,’ he said, and immediately changed the subject. ‘OK, I’ve thought about it long enough. Yes, we’ll go to Hydra. I need a few days, a week at the most, and then we can leave. We can send Valdez and Yukio out to open the house and studio a few days before our arrival. I’ve been wanting to work on a series of engravings. The Hydra studio would be the perfect place to do that. I’ll leave the details and arrangements to you.’
Dendre felt so happy, she was afraid she might burst with joy. She had won round one of the fight to keep her husband. She had removed him from Adair – well, at least out of her orbit. She had no illusions that Gideon would not be on the telephone to her, might even invite her to stay for a while in the house. Stumbling blocks that could be overcome one at a time.
Gideon rose from the table and said, ‘The phone will be ringing all day – congratulations, interviews, the lot. You handle them. I’ll see no one, I want to work. No lunch, just leave some food and I’ll send up for it. Tell the girls, who will no doubt want to talk about last night, we can have a party post-mortem over dinner this evening. By the way, I was mightily proud of them. They looked sensational, and were all dressed with such panache. I do like a pretty woman.’
‘I do know that, Gideon,’ she said facetiously.
‘Whoops!’ he said and both of them had the good grace to laugh.
Valdez and Tony arrived and were given explicit instructions on mixing the paints Gideon wanted. He walked away from Dendre without another word. She took no offence; he had done that thousands of times when he was ready to immerse himself in work.
She let herself out of the studio and into the apartment. There was a great deal to do in a short period of time. She found Pieta in the bath listening to rock and roll on her headphones, Amber still asleep, and Daisy doing exercises. She told all three, ‘Breakfast in twenty minutes – and I mean twenty, not forty.’
Dendre and Kitty, her helper, prepared a platter of fresh fruit, eggs, muffins and coffee. While standing over the coddled eggs Dendre thought of what Gideon had said about how beautiful and well turned out her blonde-haired, violet-eyed daughters had been. He’d made no mention of how
she’d
looked. No more shopping for bargains at Lohman’s in Brooklyn, she vowed. She was going for a new look, and for once in her life had no intention of looking at the price tags.
The last one to arrive at the table was Pieta, who remarked, ‘What a spread, Mom. You must have something to say or ask for.’
Dendre looked at her three daughters whose looks and colouring
resembled Gideon’s side of the family. Their still developing characters were already formidable. They adored their father, his work and his fame, and took their mother a little for granted. Intelligent and sensitive girls, they were aware that they belonged to a far from typical American family but were also aware that they were a part of a close-knit one, and felt privileged as a result of that.
Gideon and Dendre were proud of their three girls because not once had they taken advantage of their father’s fame. From toddlers they had been exposed to all sorts of people in the art world and especially the beautiful women who would float in and out of their home. When they were old enough to realise that their father had lovers, it had been Gideon who had sat all three of them down and told them, ‘You must be like your mother is about these ladies who come and go in my life. Accepting, never questioning, befriending them, enjoying what they have to offer, then forgetting them. They are outside how I feel about your mother and you girls. She has never mentioned or complained about my dalliances, and that is very clever of her. You must do the same. End of subject forever. And you are not to talk about this to your mother. It would embarrass her and I won’t have that.’
There had been a certain commanding tone in their father’s voice then. It said, This is my life, and your mother’s. Don’t question it or else! The three girls made a pact never to interfere with their parent’s lifestyle. They respected their mother for loving their father enough to leave him his freedom. Their father for having been so honest and telling them how to handle his infidelities while at the same time teaching them there are different ways and reasons to love.
‘Did you ever see such a gala evening as last night? And what happened to you, Mom? We were all so worried when we didn’t know where you were. Then Adair said not to be, she saw you go off with Haver and his crowd, so we went to bed. Did you go off with Haver? You should have come with us. We went dancing at some new place Adair found. Sort of a dump but the music was great.’