Season Of Passion Part 11

"Don't ask. You know how I feel about mornings." Kate yawned all the way home, suddenly overwhelmed by the feelings her return to San Francisco had brought back. She could hardly keep her eyes open as Felicia pressed a b.u.t.ton in the car as they reached the top of Telegraph Hill, and a garage door half a block away swung open.

"Good Lord, Licia, how fancy."

"Just safe."

Kate was looking at the building with amus.e.m.e.nt. It was even more elegant than the one Felicia had lived in when Kate had left town. It was the typical older bachelors' building. Expensive, well-run, quiet, one- or two-bedroom apartments with extraordinary views of the port and the Bay. Not a place for children, and really not much warmth or charm. Just expensive.

"You disapprove?" Felicia looked amused as they slid into the garage.

"Of course not! What made you say that?"

"The look on your face. Remember me, I'm the city mouse. You're the country mouse."

"All right, all right, I'm too tired to fight you." Kate grinned again through a yawn, and then they were in the elevator and rapidly upstairs. Felicia unlocked her apartment door right from the elevator, and they were immediately let into a hall with delicate French wallpaper in a rich dusty rose and thick creamy beige rugs. There were watercolors on the walls, two large palm trees and an antique English mirror. It was all done in exquisite taste. And perfectly Felicia.

"Should I take off my espadrilles?" Kate was only half teasing.

"Only if you plan to shove them up your a.s.s. I'm not prissy for chrissake, Kate. You can roll on the floor if you want to."

"I'd love to." The foyer alone would have made a beautiful bedroom.

But Felicia was already turning on the lights in the living room, which was done in off-white silks and creamy damasks, with dark oriental inlaid tables. There was a breathtaking view and the room's decor was wonderfully stark. The dining room beyond it was much the same with a black and white marble floor, numerous crystal sconces, and a small chandelier. Kate was sure Felicia's life-style hadn't actually been as grandiose six years before. Elegant, but not as spectacular. And there was a terrace that wrapped itself around the apartment and was covered with lush flowers and plants. Kate knew it for the work of a gardener, not her friend.

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? I'm overwhelmed. When did life get like this?"

"With the last big promotion." She smiled and then sighed softly. "I have to do something with the money. And you won't let me buy Tygue a car for a while. So this is it."

"It sure is."

"Thanks, love. I'll show you your room." She was pleased that Kate liked it, though actually she was getting a little bored with it herself. It had been two and a half years now. She was almost ready for something else. Something even more elaborate, another step up.

The guest room was in keeping with the rest of the apartment-a blue and white room in another delicate French print. There was a tiny fireplace with a white marble mantel, more plants, a door onto the terrace, a little French desk, and a Victorian love seat.

"I just want you to know that I may never leave." And then she laughed as she had a horrifying thought.

"What's so funny?"

"The thought of Tygue here. Can you imagine our old peanut-b.u.t.ter pal plonked down on that love seat?"

"I'd love to imagine just that." Felicia looked almost annoyed and then shrugged. "Well, maybe ..." And then they were both laughing again like kids. Talking about Tygue made Kate miss him a little though. This was the first night since he'd been born that she had been away from him. What if he needed her? If he had a nightmare? If he couldn't find Willie? If...

"Kate!"

"Huh?"

"I can see what you're thinking. Stop it. You'll talk to him tomorrow."

"I'll go home tomorrow. But in the meantime ..." She tossed herself onto the bed with a happy smile. "This is sheer heaven."

"Welcome home." Felicia strolled out of the room and across the hall to her own room as Kate called after her, "Can I see it?"

It was white and stark and very cold, much like the living room. Kate was disappointed.

"You expected mirrors on the ceiling perhaps?"

"At least."

"Want a drink, by the way?"

But Kate only smiled and shook her head. She knew exactly what she wanted, and after they had said good night and she had heard Felicia's door close, she got it. She stood barefoot on the terrace, in her nightgown, watching the fog hang low over the Bay, looking at the ships below, the Bay Bridge and the cars whizzing across it. She stood there for half an hour, until she was trembling so hard from the cold that she had to go inside. But when she went inside, she was still smiling.

CHAPTER 12.

When Kate got up, she found a plate of croissants and a leftover pot of coffee from Felicia, with a note. "Meet me at the office at noon. Shopping with discount before or after if you want. Love, F." Shopping with discount. It was not her most pressing wish. She wanted to see the city again. Only the city. Places, memories, moments. Squealing with delight as she raced over the top of Divisadero with Tom, with the bay breeze whipping their hair into their faces as they swooped down again toward the tiny lip of beach, or headed out on the freeway across the Bay Bridge. Walks down narrow brick-paved streets in the upper part of town, browsing along Union Street, wandering down around the piers, or nibbling shrimp among the tourists at Fisherman's Wharf.

She stretched lazily as she stood barefoot in the kitchen, her brown hair showing soft red highlights in the sun as it hung long and loose down her back. Felicia even had a view from the kitchen. Kate stared at it happily as she nibbled at a peach, waiting for the coffee to warm. The phone rang just as she finished the peach. Probably Licia for her.

" 'Lo."

"Well, h.e.l.lo. You're back." For a moment her heart stopped. Who was he?

"Uh ... yes." She stood very still, waiting to hear his voice again.

"And enjoying a lazy morning, I see. Is it a shock to be back?"

It was now. "No, it's very pleasant." Jesus, who was this guy? He seemed to know her, but she had no idea who he was. His voice was deep and interesting. It rang no familiar bells though. Still, something inside her was shaking. It was like being seen without being able to see.

"I tried you for dinner last night, but you weren't home yet. How was your friend?"

And then Kate let out a long sigh. So that was it. But he couldn't know Felicia very well, if he had mistaken Kate's voice for hers. "I'm sorry, I think there's been an awful mistake."

"There has?" Now he sounded confused, and Kate laughed.

"I'm the friend. I mean, I'm not Felicia. I'm sorry. I don't know why on earth I thought you knew who I was, but you seemed to."

"I just a.s.sumed." He sounded amused too, and his laughter was as pleasing as his voice. "I'm sorry. You're the friend from the country?"

"The country mouse. At your service." Well, not exactly, but it was fun talking to him, now that she knew that she wasn't on the spot. This had to be one of Licia's current men, if he knew about the trips to the country. "I'm really very sorry. I didn't mean to mislead you. Can I give Felicia a message? I'll be seeing her at lunch."

"Just tell her, if you would, that I've confirmed this evening. I'll pick her up at eight. The ballet's at eight-thirty, and we have a table at Trader Vic's for dinner afterward. That ought to meet with Miss Norman's approval."

"h.e.l.l, yes." Kate laughed again, and then was embarra.s.sed. Maybe he was more formal than that "I'll tell her you approved."

"I'll tell her you called."

"Thanks very much." They hung up, and then Kate realized with horror that she had never gotten his name. How awful. But it had been so strange to talk to a man again. That made two in one week. But she a.s.sumed that Felicia would know who he was. If not, she was being taken to the ballet by a total stranger. The idea amused Kate, and she laughed to herself as she poured a cup of coffee. Men. She still liked her celibate life, but it was fun playing with them again. Fun hiding in a telephone, or just talking business with Stu. For some reason, she felt like playing again. Not "doing," just playing. She was still grinning to herself when she went to get dressed.

She pulled the new dresses out of her suitcase with a look of mischief and excitement. The black was out, it was too dressy. The red skirt would be about right. She had also brought a pair of gray flannel slacks from the year one, with a white shirt and a big soft gray shetland sweater. But she didn't want to wear something like that. She wanted to wear the suit. The creamy silk suit with the peach blouse, and the delicate little shoes with the gold chain at the heel. She almost wanted to jump up and down with excitement. And half an hour later, she was delighted with herself as she stood in front of the mirror. Bathed, made up, perfumed, and draped in the divine suit she had bought in Carmel. Her hair was loosely swept up in a Gibson Girl knot that looked wonderfully ladylike, and she had brought little pearl earrings, "just in case." As she looked in the mirror, she felt like a model again. But a much older one. She was almost thirty, and she was ready for the high-fashion look. She had never owned anything quite like the cream suit. She grinned at herself again and twirled on one heel. Who was this person? Was she a celebrated writer stopping in San Francisco for a day to have lunch? Was she a quiet young matron, up from the country for a visit? Was she the mother of a small boy, a teddy bear, and a ba.s.set hound named Bert? The heartbroken wife of ... no, that she was not. Not now. But she was all the others, and none of them. Was the woman she saw in the delicate peach silk blouse really Tygue's mother? Did he even exist? Where? What country? She was in San Francisco now. This was real. How could anything else be?

She picked up the flat little beige suede bag she had brought up to go with the suit, and tucked it under her arm. It had a coral clasp and had been her mother's, long ago. In another life. Now it was just a bag. And it was a beautiful day in a beautiful town, and she had things she wanted to do. She walked down Telegraph Hill from Felicia's apartment and found a cab in Washington Square. From there she reached a car-rental place and then she was on her own. Up Broadway into Pacific Heights, past all the great houses, and into the Presidio. Then back. Divisadero and over the hill, with a broad grin and an irresistible squeal. And then back into the Presidio until she reached the cliffs that looked out to sea, with the Golden Gate Bridge stretching out, seeming to be only inches away, in all its rust-colored splendor, and with the majesty of the cliffs on either side. It was a view that had always taken her breath away and still did. And it was a place she suddenly knew she had to bring Tygue. He had to know the town where they had lived. He had a right to this. To the excitement, the beauty, the cable cars, the bridge, the people, all of it. Just thinking about him confirmed in her mind the decision she had really made when she'd left him the day before. She was going back that night. She had answered her own questions. She could do it. She had faced it. No photographers were lurking in corners. No one knew or cared who she was. This was a new era, filled with new people, in all the most beloved old places. She wanted to share it with Tygue. She would tell him all about it that night.

Feeling at peace, she slid into the rented car and headed downtown. Even that was fun now. She could remember a time when, just before she left for good, it filled her with dread. Terror. She would get claustrophobia everywhere she went. Pregnant, frightened, alone, with her whole life having fallen apart, just the simple act of going downtown had been a nightmare. Now it was funny. All those busy little people in gem-colored dresses running in and out of buildings, dodging cars, hopping cable cars, as the dowager queen, the St. Francis Hotel, looked benevolently out upon Union Square. For a moment Kate stopped and smiled. Nothing had changed here. It had barely changed since she was a child, and certainly not in six years. The green of the square was as pretty, the pomp of the big stores just as apparent, the pigeons were as plentiful, the drunks equally so: all was well with the world. She rounded the bend into Geary, and slowed the car in front of the store. For a moment she thought maybe that had changed, but no-the doorman rushed out to help her.

"Leave the car, miss?"

"Thank you."

"Be long?"

"I'm seeing Miss Norman."

"That's fine." He smiled pleasantly as she handed him the keys and a dollar. It was simpler and cheaper than a garage. He'd do something with it. G.o.d knows what. The store probably had an arrangement with the garage across the street, or the police department, but one always got one's car back.

With a feeling of trepidation, Kate pushed open the heavy gla.s.s door, and walked inside the pale cocoa marble halls. Hallowed halls. Sacred halls. Bags to the right, jewelry to the left, men's department to the extreme right only bigger now, and cosmetics and perfume in the alcove at the far left. The same, all the same. Gloves had vanished now. Stockings seemed to have moved, but nothing essential had been displaced. And G.o.d, it was pretty. Incredibly so. A riot of wares that no woman could resist. Red suede shoulder bags, black lizard clutches, marvelous great chunks of gold and silver, purple threaded with gold to weave around one's waist in the evening, thick rich capes in wonderful pastel colors, Lanvin scarves, and the smell of perfume heavy in the air ... silk flowers ... suedes ... satins ... an endlessly abundant palette of colors. It made you feel you could never be beautiful without all of it. She smiled to herself as she watched the women devouring whatever they could touch. She wanted to do it herself, but she wasn't even sure she knew how to play the game anymore and she didn't want to keep Felicia waiting and besides, she felt extravagant enough in the suit she was wearing.

As the elevator carried her upstairs, it stopped for a moment on the second floor, then the third. She had lived on those floors, worn the dresses, shown the minks, been the brides. She saw new faces now in the moments the elevator door was open. Fresh faces. No one left from her time. She was grown up now. The others were gone too. Twenty-nine. Was that really old?

The elevator stopped on the eighth floor, and she stepped out. She was no longer sure exactly where Felicia's office was, but she was quickly informed by a guard. A corner office naturally. The fashion director for all the company's stores in California would have to have a corner office. At least. Kate smiled to herself again as she walked into a small anteroom and was instantly stopped by two very stylish-looking young women, and a man wearing pale blue suede pants.

"Yes?" He hissed it through perfect teeth and delicate lips.

"I'm Mrs. Harper. Miss Norman is expecting me." The young man checked her out, then rapidly disappeared. In a moment, Felicia came stalking out of a huge white room behind her. Everything was white, gla.s.s, or chrome. It was cold, but exquisite. And white definitely seemed to be Felicia's color these days.

"Good G.o.d! You're for real!" Felicia stopped dead in the doorway, and looked at her friend. If she had ordered a model's setup for their biggest show, she would have done nothing differently. And suddenly, looking at her, she was proud of Kate. And pleased that the new watch was carefully adjusted on the delicate suit.

"Do I pa.s.s?"

Felicia rolled her eyes and practically dragged her inside. Kate was even walking differently, with a kind of sway of the hips and swagger all at the same time, as though she felt as beautiful as she looked. It made Felicia want to sing. "Is that what you bought in Carmel?"

"Yup."

"It's divine. Did you get stopped by every man in the store?"

"No." Kate grinned at her. "But you're going to the ballet tonight with a nameless stranger who is picking you up at eight, and then taking you to dinner at Trader Vic's."

"My, my. Peter."

"Then you know him."

"More or less." Which meant physically more and mentally less, but so what. That was Felicia's business. She looked pleased with the announcement about dinner. "Want to join us?"

"I'm sure he'd be thrilled. Anyway, love, I'm going home."

"You are? Why?" Had something happened? Felicia looked horrified. "Already?"

"No, this afternoon. And I've already done a lot. A lot more than you know." But Felicia did know. When she looked into Kate's eyes, she knew. Kate looked confident again, in a way she hadn't in years.

"Will you come back again?" Felicia held her breath.

She nodded quietly, and then smiled. "With Tygue. I think he ought to get to know the place a bit. He's old enough to enjoy it." And then there was a pause as her smile broadened. "And so am I. Maybe."

"Maybe my a.s.s. Come on, let's go to lunch."

She took Kate to a new restaurant tucked in between the piers, and again they had champagne to celebrate. Every day seemed like a celebration now. The restaurant served a lavish lunch, and catered to the cream of the downtown clientele. It was kept locked, and considered itself more or less a club. "By reservation only," and they were extremely careful about who got reservations. Felicia always did. She brought the right people, looked marvelous, gave them good publicity. "Miss Norman" was a venerated figure at Le Port, as they had called themselves. But Kate was beginning to realize that Felicia had become something of a personality around town.

"Does everyone know you?" It seemed as though everyone at this place did, and all the best-looking men.

"Only the right people, darling."

Kate shook her head and laughed. "You're impossible." But Felicia had also grown. In Kate's years of hiding out, Felicia had been busy. She was important now, whatever that was. There was a certain aura around everything she touched. Success. Money. And style. Felicia had vast quant.i.ties of the latter, and had been quietly earning and ama.s.sing the former for years. Watching her in her own milieu, Kate had a new respect for her.

"Did you talk to Tillie, by the way?" Felicia asked the question nonchalantly, but Kate's heart almost stopped.

"Did she call?"

"Of course not. I just thought you might have called." Felicia was sorry she'd brought it up.

"No. I was going to, but Tygue had already gone to school when I got up. I'll talk to him tonight. I'm going to try and get home in time to see him."

"It'll do him a lot of good to see you like that, Kate. He needs to know more than torn blue jeans, kiddo." She looked momentarily stern.

"That's why I thought I'd bring him up here. So you could teach him the facts of life. Right, Aunt Licia?"

"You bet, sweetheart." They toasted each other with the last of the champagne, and Felicia regretfully looked at her watch. "Dammit, I hate to go. When are you coming back?" She was going to pin her down. Now. Before she changed her mind.

"I thought I'd bring him up next month, when his school closes for the summer." Then she meant it. Felicia beamed.

"Oh G.o.d, Kate, I can hardly wait till you tell him!"

"Neither can I."

CHAPTER 13.