Story of a Sociopath

  “Look, Thomas, I don’t know why you were arguing with Olivia, nor do I care to know, but it’s not very considerate of you to make a scene. You owe me some respect,” she said.

  “You’re right. It was silly. But this girl is singularly foolish. Everything we’ve done to help her is no use. She has no talent as an actress but she insists that she does.”

  “It’s all right for her to believe in herself and to not give up. That shouldn’t annoy you,” she said.

  I held back. I gulped and smiled. The last thing I wanted was to arouse Esther’s suspicion with the stupid argument I’d just had with Olivia.

  “You’re right. Let’s forget it, it’s not important. I got mad at her because I appreciate her and it bothers me when she makes bad choices in her career. Look, there are the Sullivans…Let’s go and say hi.”

  The next day we went to Miami. Paul had invited us to join him for his first weekend as a retiree. We didn’t talk about Olivia. Esther did not refer to her again and Paul was smart enough not to mention her.

  We enjoyed the warm weather and a surprise fishing trip on Paul’s new boat. The three of us had a nice time, and we promised Paul that we’d come again.

  On Monday, when we returned to New York, I called Olivia to tell her I would come to see her at her apartment at lunchtime. Esther had a lunch meeting with a potential client, so I had enough time to clear things up with Olivia.

  She received me coolly, not wearing any makeup and looking nervous. She had made some sandwiches. Nothing special, which irritated me deeply because I had grown used to her elaborate dishes. She tried to turn the conversation to trivial matters such as the fact that her neighbor from across the way had taken a fall and broken a leg, and that the super’s son had found a job as a plumber on the other side of the city. Nothing that either of us cared about.

  “Enough of the bullshit. I didn’t come here to talk about your neighbor. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Thomas, we’ve been together for a number of years. You have paid for exclusivity and I have enjoyed the arrangement, although each dollar you give me is hard-earned because you’re not a man who is easy to get along with, and…well, I’ve had to put up with your idiosyncrasies. So we are at peace.”

  “At peace? What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s over. You don’t owe me anything, and I don’t owe you. We can be friends if you like, if you’re capable of having friends, but the agreement that bound us together had an expiration date.”

  “You’ve got that wrong. I’ll be the one who says when I end things with you.”

  “I’m under no illusion about the future. If I still haven’t managed to succeed, it’s not likely I’ll do it now. I do boring roles onstage, I’m a TV commercial girl, but soon I won’t be good enough even for that. There are plenty of girls who are younger and prettier. Until now I’ve been begging at the table. I need to think about the rest of my life, and if there’s someone who’ll give me an opportunity to be taken care of, I’m not going to waste it.”

  I laughed. For a good while I laughed heartily. I couldn’t picture Olivia married to the hardware store guy, playing housewife. To me it was a disappointment; despite her lack of artistic talent I’d always thought she had ambition.

  “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Thomas. I only have three or four years until men no longer give me a second glance. You’ll trade me in for a younger woman and then what will I do? I don’t want to be out on the street, scraping together a living or prostituting myself with just anyone to be able to eat.”

  “That’s what you’re doing now,” I retorted harshly.

  Olivia bit her lower lip, pondering her reply. She looked me in the eye and smiled.

  “Yes, you’re right, that’s what I do now. But you pay well, and so I only have to put up with you. If it goes on like this, then when I’m forty or fifty years old I’ll have to put up with other guys like you or even worse. Before that time comes I’m retiring from the scene. Wasn’t it Marlon Brando who said his mistake was to keep acting when the audience had already gone? Well, that’s it. I’d rather leave before I’m left. Jerry seems to be a good guy and I know I can get him to propose.”

  Silently we measured each other up. Olivia nibbled her sandwich. She didn’t seem to be hungry.

  “You’re not going to marry him,” I said sharply.

  “You think Jerry won’t want to marry me? You’re wrong. To him it’s a dream to be able to marry the girl from the washing machine ad who he’s also seen in a play on Broadway. Jerry is the kind who gets married, Thomas. Also, I’m not sleeping with him until he puts a ring on my finger.”

  “Stop fantasizing, Olivia. There will be no wedding. I demand that you stop talking to the hardware store guy. I told you at Paul’s party: when he comes to the theater you need to say that you don’t want to see him.”

  “I’m not going to do that, Thomas. Jerry will come tonight, as he did over the weekend. I told him that if I’m not too tired I might have a drink with him.”

  I stood up and approached her. She closed her eyes. She knew I was going to hit her. I hit her so hard that a blood vessel burst in her eye.

  “Look at yourself in the mirror. The theater adventure is over. You won’t be able to go out onstage,” I crowed. She didn’t shed a tear. She got up and went to the bathroom. Afterward she went to the freezer to get ice, wrapped it in a cloth, and put it on her eye.

  She sat down in front of me. I thought about hitting her again when I saw the look in her good eye that said she was determined to go ahead with her plan.

  “This is the last time you hit me, Thomas. The last time. If you do it again I will report you to the police. But first I will tell Esther you’ve been sleeping with me. I’ll also explain to your colleagues in the industry what kind of a man you are and what your romantic inclinations are. You’ll be the talk of Manhattan.”

  She was threatening me. Her voice didn’t break once, nor did she raise her volume. She spoke with determination.

  “You see, Olivia, you won’t do any of those things. I’ll be the one who will tell Jerry what kind of a woman you are. Tonight I’ll show up at the theater and tell him that you’re a prostitute. Well paid, but a prostitute. I think he’ll find it interesting to know what you’re capable of in bed. This hardware store guy will run for the hills.”

  “You’re a pig, Thomas.”

  “I am, Olivia. I don’t pretend to be anything else.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I bought you and you’re still useful to me. I don’t know for how long, but I still want to enjoy you. And I’ll leave you, yes—I’ll leave you when the wrinkles become more visible on your face and your body starts to sag. Then, you’ll be free, you’ll be your own master. But until that moment, if you try to cut loose you know I won’t allow it. Normal men don’t marry whores, and if this man is what you say he is, he’ll flee as soon as he finds out what you do for a living.”

  “I’ll tell Esther.”

  My guffaw echoed around the living room.

  “You know something, Olivia? Esther doesn’t ignore what kind of a man I am and she has come to terms with it. To her, it wouldn’t be a shock to find out that we’re sleeping together. But your Jerry will bolt. And I’ll make sure that any man who comes near you knows immediately what you are. You’ll end up walking the streets, charging ten dollars to every guy who mounts you.”

  She looked at me with her green eyes, but her gaze had no expression. I didn’t know what she was thinking. I supposed she hated me, but I wasn’t sure. I noticed that she gulped before she spoke again.

  “We can reach an agreement. Let me see Jerry, I’ll string him along…Let him slowly fall in love with me. It’s always easier to get a man to propose on impulse, but I can try to make him wait a little. I know he’s the insurance policy for my old age. How many more years will you want to be with me? Two, three…? You’ve told me yourself that you like younger women. It’s normal—with th
em you feel powerful. We can carry on until you replace me with one of those young ladies you pay so well. But give me back my freedom, Thomas. Do it, because otherwise we will destroy each other. You’ll chase Jerry away, but I can assure you that, if I talk, you won’t come out the other side unharmed. We both know we have a lot to lose. I have more, yes. You’ve never given me enough money to be able to save up, to ensure my future; you’ve been very clever. You paid for the apartment, you fed me, you bought me designer clothes, but never jewelry I could sell if I ran into trouble.”

  “There is no deal, Olivia. You will stay with me.”

  “And with Jerry. I will start a relationship with Jerry. I’ll string him along, but I won’t break up with him. Get over it, Thomas, or we will go to war. We will destroy each other, you know it, but I am willing.”

  She was. I knew she was willing to destroy herself if I forced her, but she would drag me down with her. She removed the ice and cloth. The lower part of her eye was swollen. It must have been painful.

  “Don’t mention weddings again to me. We’ll see when I consider our relationship done.” It was my way of not opposing her relationship with Jerry and not losing face. “Don’t threaten me again, Olivia.”

  When I stepped out of her apartment, exhaustion hit me. The confrontation with her had given me a stomachache. It was the first time we’d had an argument. I wondered why I didn’t want to give her back her freedom. I didn’t love her. I wouldn’t have cared if she had died that very day. So?

  I wandered around for a long time in search of answers. I called Paul; he was playing golf, but listened patiently. I told him what had happened. I needed someone to explain to me why I didn’t want to let her go.

  “With Olivia you get the same thing as with me, you don’t need to pretend to be something you’re not. You’re not afraid of us judging you as others do. With Esther you’re in permanent tension. You’re afraid she might leave you, so you spend all day trying to please her and you’re not you, because if you behaved like yourself, your wife would not think twice about closing the book on you forever. With Olivia you feel comfortable in your own skin, you can brag about your exploits. I think that if you’re with her it isn’t because you like her more, but because with her you can talk, tell her what you really think and do. If you lose Olivia you’ll be lonely, and what you fear most is loneliness.”

  “Don’t talk garbage, Paul. I’ve never been lonely.”

  “Of course you have. It has been your own fault, but you’ve been lonely. And you’ve clung to Esther as if she were your mother, and to Olivia as if she were the best friend you could have apart from me.”

  “Pop psychology, Paul.”

  “I don’t know if it’s psychology, it’s just the way it is. I know you, Thomas, I know what you’re like. You should live and let that girl live. The hardware store guy is a good solution. For once, be generous.”

  “I’m not going to allow it, Paul.”

  “I know. But if I were you, I would. That girl is capable of making things difficult for you. I think Esther knows you’re sleeping with Olivia, but if someone tells her, she’ll have no choice but to act as wives do. She’ll leave you. That’s what my last wife did to me. I’ll tell you something else. Esther is loyal to you, but if you give her an excuse to leave you, she will.”

  He was right. I knew Paul was right and that I should follow his advice. I shouldn’t tighten the strings too much or I’d break them. I continued wandering in search of other answers that only I could give myself. I could have done things differently. When Olivia told me she wanted to marry Jerry because it was an opportunity to safeguard her future, I could have answered differently:

  “I understand, dear, this moment was bound to come. Don’t think it makes me happy, but that’s the way things are. I don’t have anything to offer you except this apartment and some money to cover your bills. You deserve better and you couldn’t be more right, the years are starting to weigh on you. Soon it’ll be difficult to find a man who’ll take notice of you.”

  She would have hugged me, thanking me. She may even have cried.

  “Thank you, Thomas. You’ll always be my best friend. I knew you would understand. Listen, this thing with Jerry shouldn’t mean we can’t continue seeing each other any time you like. I will have to be prudent, but you and I don’t need to break up forever; well, at least until I get married. Even then…perhaps on some occasion, who knows.”

  “Come on, Olivia, if you want to get married you’ll need to behave the proper way. But thank you for telling me I can count on you. Our conversations make me feel at ease. I know I can trust you—you’ve always given me good advice. You are very intuitive. You know, I’d like to meet Jerry.”

  “Well, I don’t know…I don’t think that’s a good idea. He isn’t stupid, he’ll realize what there is between us.”

  “There’s no reason why he should. Tell him part of the truth, that I am the owner of the agency that hires you for the ads, that we have a good friendship. Something like that would be okay and he would have no reason to suspect.”

  “And the apartment? When do I have to leave?” she’d ask, fearfully.

  “You don’t have to leave immediately. Wait until Jerry proposes, and when he does, tell him this place is too expensive. You’ll move in with him, and you won’t need this apartment anymore. I’ll pay for it for a couple more months, if that suits you. Consider it my wedding gift.”

  Yes, I could have said all of those things. She would have thanked me the best way she knew how, in bed. We wouldn’t need to break up immediately. Until then I had cheated on Esther; now it was about cheating on Jerry. It wasn’t so difficult. Olivia and I were capable of pulling it off. I could even have told Esther that Olivia was getting married. She would have been surprised.

  “I’m happy for her, she’s a nice girl. Who is he?”

  Esther would have liked it that Jerry was a hardware store entrepreneur. She respected people who got ahead through their own hard work.

  —

  But that’s not what happened. I didn’t say anything to Olivia, nor to Esther. I didn’t even consider it. All I felt was rage and the result of that rage was now visible in Olivia’s bruised eye. She’d need to cover it with makeup, but I wasn’t sure that would fully conceal it.

  I continued seeing Olivia. I knew she was seeing the guy from Texas, but she was able to divide her time between the two of us.

  Jerry took only a couple of months to propose. Olivia responded that they still needed to give each other time, to truly get to know each other before taking the leap. She was hoping that in the meantime I’d tire of her. That I’d feel disgusted about sharing her with another. But to me it was all the same. When I met her she was already earning a living sleeping with rich guys. I went on to form a part of her rotation until I decided to buy her exclusivity.

  In truth, I could have left her, but I took pleasure in mortifying her. By that time, I had long been infatuated with Doris, a young lady from Buffalo, willing to do anything to become a model. She dreamed of becoming the next Kate Moss. Her cherublike appearance was alluring. I had promised her that I would hire her for an upcoming ad, but I was charging her up-front with long and intense sessions in bed, which left me little time to attend to Olivia.

  It was around that time when Esther upset our routine. It was a Saturday. Yes, I’m sure it was a Saturday. She was checking the agency accounts and I was getting bored, pretending to read. I had suggested going to dinner somewhere and to my surprise she accepted. It’s not that I had much of a hankering to go anywhere, but at least the weekend wouldn’t seem so long.

  We went to a trendy restaurant.

  After the main course, while we waited for dessert, Esther laid everything out.

  “This morning I spoke to Jaime, he is devastated. Eleanor lost the battle against cancer. She died early this morning. Poor thing.”

  I paused, trying to process what she had just told me. She had spoken to my bro
ther? My brother’s wife had been sick and had died of cancer? Yes, that’s what Esther had said, in a monotone, as if she were giving me her opinion about the duck à l’orange that she had just had.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, more harshly than I’d wanted to.

  “Poor Eleanor was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer six months ago. For your brother, it was devastating. He took her to the best specialists, but they all agreed on the diagnosis: there was nothing that could be done. For Jaime these months have been a nightmare. His children are still teenagers, you can imagine how much they’ll suffer for losing their mother.”

  “Children? So Jaime has children…” I muttered.

  “Two wonderful kids, Charles and Geoffrey.”

  I glared at her, baring the anger I felt. I refused to hide it.

  “So you know my brother has two sons and that his wife was sick…That’s interesting, because I didn’t know anything. Obviously he had no reason to tell me, but how do you know?”

  “Because I know. You can’t tell me you’re surprised. You know that he usually checks in on my birthday and always calls on Thanksgiving to see how we are.”

  “You never told me you were up to date on his personal life,” I retorted.

  “No, I never told you. What for? The day I tried to tell you that your grandfather James was in the hospital you said that it wasn’t your problem and that you didn’t care if he died. When your grandma moved in with your aunt Emma, you told me you couldn’t care less, and when both of them died in that accident, you refused to go to the funerals and you didn’t even call Jaime. You’ve told me on many occasions that you didn’t want to hear anything about your family, and when I tried to tell you about them you didn’t want to listen.”

  “And now you’re telling me my brother has just become a widower. I must say, that is remarkable.”

  “I had to tell you, Thomas. Even if you don’t care, it’s best that you find out through me and not through an obituary in the New York Times.”