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“Of course I will, silly.”
“What a pity. If I had known I would have booked you a room in the guest quarters.”
“What a pity,” echoed Florentyna, thinking of the unopened suitcase lying in the trunk of her car.
The next day, Scott picked her up shortly after three and took her back to his rooms for tea. She smiled as he closed the door, remembering that it was still not allowed at Radcliffe. His room was considerably larger than hers and on his desk was a picture of an aristocratic, slightly severe-looking lady who could only have been his mother. As Florentyna took in the room she realized that none of the furniture belonged to Harvard. After he had given her tea they listened to America’s new singing idol, Elvis Presley, before Scott put on Frank Sinatra singing “Stranger in Paradise” and they danced, each wondering what was in the other’s mind. When they sat down on the sofa, he kissed her at first gently, then with passion. He seemed reluctant to go any further and Florentyna was both too shy and too ignorant to help him. Suddenly he placed a hand over her breast as if waiting for Florentyna’s reaction. At last his hand moved to the top of her dress and fumbled with the first button. Florentyna made no attempt to stop him as he continued with the second. Soon he was kissing her, first on the shoulder, then on her breast. Florentyna wanted him so badly that she almost made the next move herself, but quite suddenly, he stood up and took off his shirt. In response she quickly slipped out of her dress and let her shoes fall to the floor. They made their way to the bed, clumsily trying to remove what was left of each other’s clothing. For a moment they stared at each other before climbing onto the bed. To her surprise the pleasure of making love seemed to be over in seconds.
“I’m sorry, I was awful,” said Florentyna.
“No, no, it was me.” He paused. “I might as well admit it, that was my first time.”
“Not you as well?” she said, and they both burst out laughing.
They lay in each other’s arms for the rest of the evening and made love twice more, each time with greater pleasure and confidence. When Florentyna woke in the morning, cramped and rather tired but exultantly happy, she felt instinctively they would spend the rest of their lives together. For the remainder of that term they saw each other every weekend, and sometimes during the week as well.
In the spring vacation, they met secretly in New York, and Florentyna spent the happiest three days she could remember. On the Waterfront, Limelight and, on Broadway, South Pacific preceded the “21” Club, Sardi’s and even the Oak Room at the Plaza. During the day they shopped, visited the Frick and walked through the park. When she returned home at night, her arms were laden with presents, which ended up by the side of her bed.
The spring term was idyllic and they were rarely out of each other’s company. As it drew to a close, Scott invited Florentyna to spend a week in Marblehead to meet his parents.
“I know they’ll love you,” he said as he put her on the train to Chicago.
“I hope so,” she replied.
Florentyna spent hours telling her mother how wonderful Scott was and how much she was bound to love him. Zaphia was delighted to see her daughter so happy and genuinely looked forward to meeting Scott’s parents. She prayed Florentyna had found someone with whom she could spend the rest of her life, and had not made an impulsive decision that she would later regret. Florentyna selected yards of different-colored silks from Marshall Field’s and passed the evenings designing a dress she felt certain would capture the heart of Scott’s mother.
The letter came on a Monday, and Florentyna immediately recognized Scott’s handwriting. She tore the envelope open in happy anticipation, but it contained only a short note saying that because of a change in his family plans he would have to postpone her trip to Marblehead. Florentyna read the letter again and again, looking for some hidden message. Remembering only how happily they had parted, she decided to call his home.
“The Roberts residence,” said a voice that sounded like the butler’s.
“May I speak to Mr. Scott Roberts?” Florentyna could hear her voice quiver as she said his name.
“Who is calling him, ma’am?”
“Florentyna Rosnovski.”
“I’ll see if he’s in, ma’am.”
Florentyna clutched on to the phone and waited impatiently for Scott’s reassuring voice.
“He’s not at home at the moment, ma’am, but I will leave a message saying that you called.”
Florentyna didn’t believe him and an hour later called again.
The voice said, “He is still not back, ma’am,” so she waited until eight that evening, when the same voice announced that he was at dinner.
“Then please tell him I’m calling.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The voice returned a few moments later and said perceptibly less politely, “He cannot be disturbed.”
“I don’t believe it. I don’t believe you’ve told him who it is.”
“Madam, I can assure you—” Another voice came on the line, a lady’s, with the ring of habitual authority.
“Who is this calling?”
“My name is Florentyna Rosnovski. I was hoping to speak to Scott as—”
“Miss Ros-en-ovski, Scott is having dinner with his fiancée at the moment and cannot be disturbed.”
“His fiancée?” whispered Florentyna, her nails drawing blood from the palm of her hand.
“Yes, Miss Ros-en-ovski.” The phone w
ent dead. It took several seconds for the news to sink in; then Florentyna said out loud, “Oh, my God, I think I’ll die,” and fainted.
She woke to find her mother by the side of her bed.
“Why?” was Florentyna’s first word.
“Because he wasn’t good enough for you. The right man won’t allow his mother to select the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.”
When Florentyna returned to Cambridge, matters did not improve. She was unable to concentrate on any serious work and often spent hours on her bed in tears. Nothing Bella could do or say seemed to help and she could devise no better tactic than belittlement. “Not the sort of man I would want on my team.” Other men asked Florentyna for dates, but she didn’t accept any of them. Her father and mother became so worried about her that they even discussed the problem with each other.
Finally, Florentyna came close to failing a course, and her advisor, Miss Rose, warned her that she had a lot of work to do if she still hoped to win her Phi Beta Kappa key. Florentyna remained indifferent. At the beginning of the summer vacation she stayed at home in Chicago accepting no invitations to parties or dinners. She helped her mother choose some new clothes but bought none for herself. She read the details of the “society wedding of the year,” as the Boston Globe referred to the marriage of Scott Roberts to Cynthia Knowles, but it only made her cry again. The arrival of a wedding invitation from Edward Winchester did not help. Later, she tried to remove Scott from her thoughts by going to New York and working unheard-of-hours for her father at the New York Baron. As the vacation drew to a close she dreaded returning to Radcliffe for her final year. No amount of advice from her father or sympathy from her mother seemed to improve matters. They both began to despair when she showed no interest in the preparations for her twenty-first birthday.
It was a few days before Florentyna was due to return to Radcliffe that she saw Edward across Lake Shore Drive. He looked as unhappy as she felt. Florentyna waved and smiled. He waved back but didn’t smile. They stood and stared at each other until Edward crossed the road.
