
By now I had a good idea where the story was going, but I let Marty tell it at his own pace. In the course of it our cognac vanished, and our waiter, an aging cherub with glossy black curls and a bulging waistcoat, took away our empty glasses and brought them back replenished. The minutes ticked away, the lunch crowd thinned out, and Marty went on telling me how Marisol ("A lovely name, don't you think, Bernie? It's Spanish, of course, and comes from mar y sol, meaning sea and sun. Her mother's Puerto Rican, her father from one of those charming little countries on the Baltic. Sea and sun indeed!") was indeed abundantly talented, and quite beautiful, with an aura of genuine innocence about her that could break one's heart. He'd seen her in a showcase presentation of Chekhov's The Three Sisters, of which the less said the better, but her performance and her incandescent stage presence drew him as he had not been drawn in years.
And so he'd gone backstage, and took her to lunch the next day to discuss her career, and squired her to a play he felt she simply must see, and, well, you can imagine the rest. A small monthly check, barely a blip on his own financial radar, meant she could quit waitressing and have more time for auditions and classes and, not incidentally, Marty, who took to visiting her Hell's Kitchen apartment at the day's end, for what the French call a cinq à sept, or a little earlier, for what New Yorkers call a nooner.
"She was living in South Brooklyn," he said, "which meant a long subway ride. Now she's a five-minute walk from a few dozen theaters." Her new digs were also a short cab ride from Marty's apartment and an even shorter one from his office, which made the arrangement convenient all around.
He was besotted with her, and she seemed equally impassioned. With the shades drawn in the West 46th Street walk-up, he'd shown her a few refinements her younger lovers had never introduced, and he was pleased to report that the vigor and energy of youth was no match for the art and sophistication of experience.
