David sat behind his cello and played something she didn’t recognize.
“What is that?”
“Debussy, too. Sonata in D minor,” he said. “I only played a little of the beginning.”
Ella smiled at him. “I never knew.”
“I never told,” he said, moving his bow away from the strings dramatically. “Okay, only one more flight, unless you want the attic tour to check out my air-conditioning system. But after, I am ordering a large pizza unless you disagree,” he said. “Or we could go out and eat something.”
Ella didn’t reply but followed him up the stairs.
They stood together on the patch of the third-floor landing, and Ella hesitated from entering the rooms, and he didn’t move, either. There were three bedrooms: one was the master—large, but almost empty of furniture except for a full-size bed and a single nightstand piled high with books. Another bedroom had been converted into a study. And the third bedroom was another guest room. In the corner window, there were a dozen jade plants in different-size pots.
“They’re all jades,” she exclaimed. “I have some, too.”
“They all came from the same mother,” he said proudly.
Ella studied the plants again. There was so much you learned from visiting a person’s house.
“It’s such a big house. And you take care of it so well.” Her own home was also large. That had been very important to Ted. For two people in Manhattan who worked in schools and earned modest salaries, their luxurious housing made no sense. Her own house was paid for by Ted and her father, but now she knew that David must have had family money, too, or investments.
“Did your fiancée live. . . here?”
“My ex-fiancée,” he corrected her.
“Sorry.”
“No. She never lived here. That hadn’t occurred to me. I’m a nice Catholic boy.”
“Oh? It hadn’t occurred to you?” Ella said, smiling.
“I’m nice, but I’m not a priest,” he said, clearing his throat. He wanted to kiss her. Ella’s mouth looked like a small red fruit.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice faltering. She’d been talking about cohabitation, and he was talking about sex, but she wasn’t really talking about that. Was she? They still hadn’t left the stairwell. They were both frightened by the idea of sex, but he was trying to say that he thought of her that way. And she was now thinking of how it would be to have sex with David. Then she remembered the herpes and how she had never told him, and perhaps he might never wish to be with her, and how she would, of course, understand.
“I have herpes,” she said. Just like that.
“Pardon?”
“Ted. He gave me herpes when he slept with Delia. He told me recently that she didn’t have it, but somehow we both do. And if I slept with you, and I had an outbreak, then you might get it. I read a few books about it since. I found out when I was pregnant with Irene. You wouldn’t necessarily get it, but you could, and, and. . . I’m not saying that you want to sleep with me. But since I am being nothing if not presumptuous today, I might as well just say it, because I may never have the nerve again— Oh God.” Ella turned around and walked downstairs.
“Wait. Wait. Come back.”
Ella turned around.
“Come back, please. Sit with me.”
Ella sat on a step. David sat beside her.
“I do want to sleep with you. I want very much to make love to you.”
“Herpes,” she said, and when she said it again, she didn’t know what he thought, because she couldn’t even look at his face when she said it. But hearing it from her own lips made it feel less awful. It didn’t sound like the plague, which was how she’d felt when the doctor had told her. Reading the books, having Irene be born fine, and David not looking horrified—it wasn’t the end, she realized. It was a disease, but it wasn’t as if she were going to die, and if he didn’t want to be with her anymore, then she would understand. It wouldn’t be love. Didn’t you go through anything for love? Maybe no one would ever want her.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Not anymore. The first time, it was uncomfortable, but it didn’t hurt. And I don’t really have outbreaks anymore. I often forget that I have it. And if I don’t have an outbreak, then you can’t get it. But if I do get an outbreak, and if we”—Ella paused—“made love then, it’s possible.”