Gerry and the New York Heiress

She wondered what it was like in his silent world and wished he could tell her; instead, she traced his eyebrows with her fingertips. Streaks from her finger and droplets from her eyes smudged the cold glass and formed prisms on the screen of the IPad. Gerry, with his noble face, strong jaw, high cheekbones, stoic black eyes, and the silken frame of his long ebony hair, stared at her, silent. Janice brought the tablet closer and touched her lips to the image of his full, firm lips.

The intimate proximity to his covert smile, rugged looks, weathered skin, a man's man of the outdoors, made her feel happy, alive. The heart rhythms of love pulsed in her neck, and her face flushed, peach red, with desire. Her wet mouth opened to him, and with a passionate French kiss, her tongue smeared the screen with a mixture of dribble and satin red lipstick. Her breath slowed, rasped, in and out, as she imagined the glory of his response. Their hot tongues touched, and saliva intermingled to release passion and heat in her loins. A musky wet fragrance of lust filled the room. Janice had discovered love.

Wearing only panties and tank-top, the retired model rose from the vanity and placed the tablet on the decorative pillow by her satin pillow. "Gerry, you wait right there." She said. "I will only be a minute, be patient."

Janice, to the world a forgotten spinster, lived in a modern Mercedes House apartment on West 53rd Street. The panorama of Midtown, like a masterful painting, refracted through the high windows of the master bedroom. The orange peel sunset against the apricot skyline on the Hudson River edged out the New York sparkled nightscape in its daily competition of live art. Financial security, acquired from a family trust, allowed her to hide and protect her secret love, Gerry, from her psychiatrist and the world.

Driven to seduce, Janice chose a black lace, two-piece negligee from her closet and held it to her body. She turned to her Cheval glass. A fifty-seven-year-old woman with over-dyed, short brunette hair met her eye to eye. Large oval eyes, dark brown, thanks to contacts, critiqued the reflection of a cloned Liza Minnelli. Her rouge cheeks drooped less, thanks to Dr. Omar's Wonder Cream. The chin scar, now a trace line, from the tuck a month earlier. Her neckline creases, once ten, were now two. The review skipped past her flat breasts, scanned lower, and to a pregnant-like bulge.

She pressed her hand to her stomach and a jolt of pleasure, at her own touch, radiated through her body. Janice fluffed the camisole top to cover her tummy.

"There, that's what great fashion is about." She said, satisfied.

Dressed, she returned to her vanity and chose Beautiful by Estee' Lauder and spritzed the garden mist on her neck, wrist, and between her thighs. Janice knew Estee' Lauder had named it for her, but they denied it publicly in 1983. The essence of flowers filled the room and transformed it into her amour jarden.

The void of night consumed the last sliver of golden orange in the window, and she moved to the dual portrait framed on the wall. On the left, a New York Times photo showed a young version of her posed on the catwalk of the 1980 Met Museum of Fine Art Fashion Show, her first and last. To the right, a colorized photo of the famous Apache Chief, Geronimo Goyathlay, circa 1890.

Janice and Gerry met in the museum, the day of her first show. The critics had laughed at her when she slipped and fell.

"She's proof, money can't buy class," a Times critic blurted aloud.

Horrified, she ran to the back of the museum and collapsed to the floor, alone. Mascara smeared her face and fingers as she sobbed in failure and saw him through her black-stained digits. Illuminated across time, his fierce eyes rained compassion into hers and she fell in love with him at first sight.

Destiny revealed itself, the next night, at the Premier of the 1980 movie, "Somewhere in Time." A surreal message that true love spans all time, and she was convinced Gerry and her would unite someday. The mystic time warp, driven by love, commitment, and desire, existed.

"The day is coming, we will overcome the lies and oppression we have both experienced and be together," She said and her eyes pooled with emotion, "I promise, dear."

Janice's moved to the bed, and her body quivered in anticipation. She took her evening Clozapine pill, laid on the bed, and rolled over to face Gerry. "It's time, my love, make sweet love to me again," She rasped, "just like last night.