Chapter 27

During the long drive to Des Moines, Sophie and Melissa talked of many things: business, travel, sex, school, Elliot's gallery and learning center, and many other things. Rarely did they kick back silently and watch the flat land pass or pay attention to the music on the radio. It made the four hours pass much quicker.

"So Mom accompanied you to China and India. Why those places?" asked Melissa.

"You know we outsource making the clothes. It's just too expensive in the states. But Elliot's obsessed with quality. The higher end clothing, ones we can mark up and place in more expensive department stores, a lot of them continue to be constructed here. He's more confident in the construction. But things started getting out of hand. Clothes became shoddier, less well crafted and seams would split too easily. So we went to inspect the facilities in China and India. Your mom researched more efficient methods and machinery and we came with those results and cash incentives to make improvements and a bit of blackmail to assure our reception. If they didn't respond properly, we threatened to go elsewhere."

"Did you have time to play tourist?"

"Yes. It was fascinating. We loved it." Sophie chuckled. "Especially your mom. She always found a companion among the translators or guides. Never the officious factory owners or their lackeys. At first I didn't understand the choices, but then I realized these young men had more insight into the culture. They lived amongst it and struggled and it gave her glimpses of the more common living situations. Also they worked harder to entertain her. She even went off with one of the Chinese translators to Viet Nam for a long weekend. Inevitably, when they parted, her and her new lover, tears were shed. In the short time she knew them, love had been shared. She invited them to come visit her and Henri in Brooklyn, warning them of his curmudgeonly attitude."

"Henri's sweet despite himself," said Melissa.

"He is, but if you never saw them together, you'd think their marriage would be impossible. Together, they leave no doubt of the love they have for each other."

Melissa nodded. "I don't suppose they'll be in Paris."

"No. Too much to do here as usual. You should invite your mom to your cute little home."

"I suppose Henri would refuse to accompany her."

"I have no doubt. New York's barely sophisticated enough for him."

Later: "Amazing any young men with your interest in them?" asked Sophie.

"Not so much. Just a couple. I find the folks a bit rigid around here. Set in their ways I guess and proud of it. I don't find that quality attractive. When Sarah arrived, it had been the longest drought for sex in quite some time in contrast to my senior year in Englewood."

Sophie chuckled, "So that's why you decided to limit your tutoring with Sarah."

Melissa giggled. "Yep. By the time I decided to finish up with the tutoring instead of attending the last quarter, it had as much to do with the supply of needy nerds drying up as it did with Sarah needing me with her. But I did manage to sustain some of those relationships since I enjoyed them as friends, as did Sarah."

"So she shared with you?"

"Really mostly as friends. Occasionally we'd have threesomes with a couple of the girls and one guy."

"A guy?"

"I mean, Elliot shared her with me. But it took a young man with remarkable maturity and intelligence and respect towards women to woo her into joining us. He's funny as hell, too, which Sarah enjoyed and probably needed. And he inspired us."

"How so?"

"He writes stories and poetry and plays, and is really good. I ... I've been writing too."

"Really? What?"

"Poetry mostly. More prose poems like Baudelaire. We showed him Sarah's drawings, which of course he loved, and my poetry. He noticed something I hadn't. There's like this dialogue between Sarah's drawings and my writing. Can you reach back and grab my shoulder bag?"

Hefting the overstuffed shoulder bag over the back rest and into her lap, Sophie commented, "You're stronger than you look."

Melissa shrugged and giggled within a nervous blush. "There are two expanding files. The thicker one contains Sarah's treatise."

"Her what?" Sophie gasped, extracting the well filled dark brown file envelope from the bag.

"There should be a title page at the front."

"Allure: the Business of Feminine Display and Seduction and their Sociological Implications in Three Predominately Female Careers. Oh my."

"She makes copies and gives me them. I jot notes or make corrections. She's been working on it since we got back from Paris last year. She slanted her tutorials towards the social sciences: Psychology and Sociology and Anthropology as well as learning the essentials of writing scholarly papers. She intends to get it published hopefully in a few months."

"Is she attending school?"

"In a way. She's using the internet mostly, but wants to find an advisor, hopefully one who knows the processes of scholarly publishing. The University of Missouri Press has her focus. But of course she needs to be taken seriously, and at eighteen and not exactly even an undergraduate..." Melissa shrugged.

"It's very academic writing."

"I think she's good at it. She likes writing papers, which is pretty weird. I doubt she ever wrote a poem or a story unless for school or something. It doesn't interest her."

"So you're writing doesn't interest her?"

"No. I mean she likes it. She's always complimenting me, which kind of gives me a big head. George, our friend from Englewood, he's more like an editor, critiquing rather than praising, which I appreciate."

"You still communicate with him?"

"Sure. Both of us do. We like him and we like his mind. He'll be attending Bard College in Upstate New York starting next month. We're hoping to pay him a surprise visit if we can get the time. Unless of course his new girlfriend objects."

"He has a girlfriend?"

"Not yet, but I have a feeling he'll score. I don't think it will be a problem though. We're all too young to take anyone that seriously."

"Except you and Sarah."

"I suppose. But we're definitely not exclusive. Nor do we get jealous of each other."

Sophie chuckled. "I'm just thinking about your writing and hers. You're really very different people."

"Of course. You should have known her when we met. Sour Sarah."

"And Sweet Melissa."

"Exactly. I think we fascinate each other. And I don't think that will ever end."

"You're her muse," said Sophie, extracting a drawing of a naked Melissa with a beatific expression from a slimmer file envelope. Slimmer, but brimming with paper as well.

"And she's my muse," said Melissa, removing the paper from Sophie's hand and turning it over to show her writing attached.

"Hmm. It's darker than I expected."

"My writing tends to be a bit edgy. Kind of like my paintings had been when I painted. But I always like it to spin upwards at the end."

Sophie smiled when she finished the prose poem. "I can see that. It's charming."

"Thanks."

"Is it all nudes?"

"No. And we're puzzling over that. And they're not just nudes. They're not like studies of the forms of bodies. They're erotic. We have a couple approaches we're contemplating. One would be to separate the erotic from the landscapes and still lifes and regular portraits. I like the other idea better: incorporating them. Like telling a story: setting the place and the people and either dissolving to an inner fantasy or enfolding the erotic imagery within the story. It would be a short story collection with various narrative structures."

"And publishing?"

"Well, we're not ready yet, but George spent a rather frustrating summer seeking an agent. Being eighteen and the whole unsolicited thing, he pretty much hit brick walls. He's ambitious though, and he'll keep banging against them until he finds a crack."

"Oh my God. I just realized Jimmy's been publishing. It's for the Learning Center, but..."

Melissa laughed loudly. "What?" asked Sophie.

"We had you and Jimmy and Elliot in mind to get this thing done. We had a feeling the three of you would be our way in."

"Oh my God!" Sophie yelled, surprising Melissa. "I just remembered something. Soon after Sarah ran away, Elliot and I and Marjorie and Emily sat around feeling maudlin. We had a Sarah day, reminiscing about her. We even called Vic, and Vic had us call Tina. At one point Elliot stood up, not easy since we had been drinking to her memory, polishing off a couple bottles of bubbly. We were at his place, in his living room. We watched videos and looked at magazines with her ads. Anyway he got up and announced he would return in an hour. He called James and luckily James was available and limoed Elliot down to his office where he collected every drawing he could find that Sarah did for him and returned with the bundle. We passed them around, enjoying their exquisite capturing of not just the sweep of the outfit, but the emotion of the model wearing it. Elliot kept mumbling how he couldn't live without her. Suddenly, like he had woken from a profound dream, he proclaimed he would publish them and merchandise them at all the outlets."