Season Of Passion Part 17

"How come a broad like you wrote a book about football?"

"Why not?" She looked at Nick. It was hopeless to try to get to him. But he was slowly making his way toward her. Another two minutes maybe.

"You know, there was a football player years ago with the same name as yours. Harper. Bill Harper. Joe Harper. Something like that. Went nuts. Tried to kill somebody and shot himself instead. Nuts. They're all nuts. Killers. You related to him?" He looked up sloppily at Kate and burped. It would have been funny except that suddenly she knew the clock had struck twelve, it was over now. It had happened. Someone had remembered. Someone. That was all it took. From where he stood, Nick could see panic break out on her face. "You related to him?" The guy was persistent, and smiling ghoulishly.

"I ... what? No. Of course not!"

"I didn't think so." But Kate didn't hear his last words. She pushed herself in the direction of Nick who forded the last clump of bodies between them, and finally reached her. There was terror stamped all over her face.

"Are you all right? Did that guy say something out of line to you?"

"I ... no ... no, no, nothing like that." But there were tears swimming in her eyes, and she looked away. "I'm sorry, Nick. I'm not feeling well. It must be all the excitement. The champagne. I ... I'll call a cab." She was squeezing her handbag and looking around nervously as she spoke.

"The h.e.l.l you will. Are you sure that guy didn't say something?" He'd kill him if he had. What the h.e.l.l had he done to her?

"No, really." He knew she wouldn't tell him the truth, and that made him madder still. "I just want to go home." She said it like a child, and without another word, he put his arm tightly around her and led her out into the main foyer, and then quietly out of the house, after collecting her shawl.

"Kate"-he looked down at her as they waited for the car-"please tell me what happened."

"Nothing, Nick. Nothing. Really." He tilted her face up to his without saying a word, and in spite of herself, two tears spilled out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. "I just got frightened, that's all. I haven't been around ... around people for a very long time."

"I'm sorry, baby." He folded her into his arms and held her there until the car came. She stood there, feeling his jacket, and breathing the scent of him in the night air. He smelled of spice and lemons and he was warm and solid next to her. When the car came, she pulled away slowly, took a deep breath, and smiled.

"I'm sorry to be such a fool."

"You're not. I'm sorry that happened. This should have been your big night."

"It was." She looked at him as she said it, and then slipped into the car. She had done it at least. Done the show. Gone to the party. It wasn't anyone's fault that someone had remembered Tom. But it was heartbreaking to know that some people still did. Why couldn't they remember the good years? The happy times? Why did they remember only the end? She looked up and realized that Nick was watching her. He hadn't started the car yet. He wanted to take her home, to his place. But he couldn't, and he knew it.

"Want to stop off someplace for a night cap?" But she shook her head. He'd known she would refuse. He didn't want one either. And he didn't know what else to suggest. A walk? A swim? He was at a loss. He wanted to do something simple with her, not something Hollywood. There were times when he hated this town, and tonight was one of them. "Back to the hotel then?" She nodded regretfully, but with a small, grateful smile.

"You've been wonderful, Nick." A dismissal. He wanted to kick something. And she didn't understand his silence all the way back to the hotel. She was afraid he was angry. But he didn't look it, he looked sad. Or maybe hurt. He was feeling helpless.

"Sure I can't talk you into something glamorous, like an ice-cream cone?"

"Do people indulge in simple pleasures like that here?"

"No, but I'd find you one."

"I'll bet you would." She said it warmly, and she wanted to touch his face as they drove up in front of the hotel. "I'm afraid Cinderella has had her big night at the ball. And if I were you, I'd beat it before this jet plane of yours turns into a pumpkin." They both laughed at the thought, and she picked up her bouquet of roses from the floor. "See, they didn't even spill." He was watching her, and she found his eyes again. "Thank you, Nick. For everything." He didn't move, and for a moment neither did she. She hesitated. She wanted to touch him. His hand. His face. To hold out her arms again and let him hold her. But this was different. She knew she couldn't do that. And she knew, too, that she wouldn't see him again.

"Thank you, Kate." He said it very carefully. As though he meant it, but she wasn't sure why.

"Good night." Gently, like a quiet whisper of air, she touched his hand and then opened the car door and was gone. The doorman closed the Ferrari door behind her, and Nick watched her go. He didn't get out, or call her back, or even move. He just sat there, for a very long time. And when he called her the next morning, she had already checked out. It took all his connections through the show to find out from the manager that she had checked out a little after 1 A.M. That was when he'd brought her home. It didn't make any difference, but he had wanted to know. It was that sonofab.i.t.c.h at the party. d.a.m.n. And he didn't even know where she lived. He wondered if Weinberg would tell him.

CHAPTER 18.

"Tygue, I said no!"

"You always say no. Besides, I don't care what you say!"

"Go to your room!" There was a moment of fierce glaring between them and Tygue gave in first. It was fortunate for him because his mother was in no mood to fool around. She had gotten in just after four in the morning. Tillie had left at six-thirty. And it was now only seven. Kate had had two and a half hours of sleep. This was not the day for Tygue to decide to give Bert a bath before school, with her best soap from Licia. Any other day, Kate would have laughed. Today, she wasn't laughing. And her head was still full of what had happened in L.A. She called Tygue back when breakfast was ready. "Are you going to be reasonable now?" But he said not a word as he sat down to his cereal. She drank her coffee in silence, and then suddenly she remembered something. It was in her suitcase. "I'll be right back." It wasn't really the right time to give it to him, but maybe it was what they both needed. A silly moment. Of her spoiling him and his feeling loved. She had felt so lonely driving home last night. As though she had lost. But she had forced herself out. No one had sent her away. The whole thing was stupid. So what if the guy remembered a football player named Harper? Why did she have to leave like that? And she knew Stu would be angry at her. She had arranged for the hotel to deliver a message to him first thing in the morning: "Was called home unexpectedly, please cancel magazine interview. Terribly sorry. Thank you for everything. Love, Kate." But he'd be mad anyway. She knew it. And she was angry at herself as well. And then with a soft whisper of pleasure she remembered the feel of Nick's hand when she'd said good-bye to him in the car.

"What are you thinking about? You look silly." Tygue had wandered into her room and was watching her from the doorway, his bowl of cereal in his hand, tilting at a precarious angle.

"Don't walk around with your breakfast. And what do you mean, I look silly? That's not a nice thing to say." She sounded hurt, and he looked down into his bowl.

"I'm sorry." He was still mad at her for leaving.

"Go put that in the sink and come back here." He looked up at her and then vanished, clomping loudly along the floor. He was back in seconds with an expectant look on his freckled face. "Wait till you see what I brought you." It was totally outrageous. She had found it in the children's shop at the hotel, and she had had to have it. She had bought it at a scandalous price, but why not? He was the only son she had, and he was never going to have another outfit like this.

"What is it?" He looked suspiciously at the fancy dress box, and the pale blue curlicues of ribbon put him off.

"Go ahead. It won't bite you." She grinned to herself, thinking of the dusty blue velvet suit they'd had too. The idea of her son in that getup had made her laugh right there in the shop, much to the salesperson's horror. But blue velvet on a boy of six was pushing it. Tygue wouldn't have worn it at two. She watched him as, gingerly, he pulled off the ribbons, and then stared at the box for one brief moment before yanking off the lid, pushing aside the tissue paper, and then gasping as he saw it.

"Oh, Mom! Oh! ... Mom! ..." There were no words to describe what he felt, and tears burned her eyes as she watched him. They were still tears of fatigue and excitement, but they were tears of joy too. He pulled it out of the box and held it up. A miniature cowboy suit in leather and suede. There was a fringed vest, and chaps. A cowboy shirt, a belt, and a jacket. And when he tore off his clothes and tried it on, it fit him perfectly.

"Well, hotshot? You look gorgeous." She beamed at him from her seat on the bed.

"Oh, Mommy!" She hadn't heard "Mommy" in a while. Only "Mom." Now "Mommy" was saved for special occasions, when no one else was around to hear. He ran up to her in the little cowboy suit and threw his arms around her with a huge mushy kiss.

"Am I forgiven?" She hugged him close with a smile.

"For what?"

"Going away." She cringed at the precedent she was setting, but her son was smarter than she was.

"No," he said matter-of-factly, with a big smile. "But I love the suit. And I love you best of all."

"I love you best of all too." She sat down on the bed, and he piled into her lap. "You should take that off. It's a little fancy for school, darling, isn't it?"

"Awww, Mommm ... please ..."

"Okay, okay." She was too tired to argue. And then, unexpectedly, he looked up at her.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, I did. I was on TV, and I stayed in a big hotel, and I had lunch with some people, and went to a party with some other people."

"It sounds terrible." She laughed and looked at him. Maybe he was right. Maybe it had been terrible. But she couldn't really make herself believe that. "When are we going back to San Francisco?"

"Soon. We'll see. Do you want Tillie to take you down to the Adams place today, so you can ride in your new suit?" He nodded vehemently, looking down at the vest with delight. "I'll leave Tillie a note."

But the boy looked up in terror. "Are you going away again?"

"Oh Tygue ..." She held him tight. "No, sweetheart. I'm just going to see ... to teach." Jesus. She had almost said it. To see Tom. She was exhausted. She was really too tired to drive up there too. But she felt that she had to. It had been days. "I'll even try to come back early today, and we'll have a nice quiet dinner. Just us. Okay?" He nodded warily, but the terror had left his eyes. "I told you, silly. I'm not going to run off and leave you. Just because I'm gone for a day, or even a couple of days, doesn't mean I'm leaving you. Got that?" He nodded, silent, his eyes huge. "Good." And then the honking of his car pool threw them both into chaos. Lunch pail, books, hat, big kiss, squeeze, good-bye, gone. Kate sat in the kitchen for a moment, trying to summon enough energy to get her jacket and go. She was crazy to make the trip on two hours' sleep. But it was never the right time to go to Carmel anymore. There was always something else she wanted to do. She picked up her bag and her jacket, wrote a note for Tillie, and left as it started to rain.

The soft rain continued as she drove up to Carmel, and it pattered gently on the roof of the cottage as she visited with Tom. It was the kind of gentle summer rain that made her want to turn her face to the sky and run barefoot through the long summer gra.s.s, feeling twigs tickle her toes. She didn't do that though. She was too tired to do more than walk to the cottage and sit down. She had nothing much to tell him. She couldn't tell him about L.A., he wouldn't understand. But he was in a peaceful mood. The rain seemed to soothe him. and they sat hand in hand, side by side, he in his wheelchair. she in a cozy rocker, and she told him stories. They were the stories she had known as a child, the same ones she had told Tygue for years. Tom loved them too. And shortly after lunch, he fell asleep. The rhythm of the rain soothed them both and she had to jolt herself a few times to keep from falling asleep too. But once Tom had drifted off, she sat for a moment, watching his peaceful face, letting the rush of memory drift over her ... the thousand times she had seen that face asleep before, in other places, other days. It made her think of Cleveland, so long ago, and then unexpectedly of Nick Waterman. She didn't want to think of him here. This wasn't his place, it was Tom's. She kissed him gently on the forehead, ran a hand softly over his hair, put a finger to her lips as she looked up at Mr. Erhard, and tiptoed carefully from the room.

It was a long drive home. The roads were fairly deserted and she was anxious to get back, but she didn't dare drive as fast as she normally did. And eventually she had to open the windows and turn on the radio to keep awake. Twice she had to pull over to the side of the road to shake the cobwebs out of her head. She was pushing it and she knew it. She was tempted just to stay there and sleep for a while, but she knew Tillie would want to get home. It was Friday and there was always some member of her family coming for dinner, or the weekend. She only had another fifty miles to go, and she decided to make a run for it, as the thunder clapped and the lightning flashed, and the rain splashed in over the top of the window and washed her face. It made her smile as she felt it. It felt good just being back in her part of the world again. She didn't belong in L.A., but it had been fun for a visit, for a moment. And never again. What totally mad people. She let her mind drift back to the pink dressing room, the tension of the Red Room, and then the opulence of the party in Beverly Hills ... and then the feeling of Nick Waterman holding her as they waited for his car. She pushed that from her mind with the rest of it, and turned up the radio. L.A. was their world. Not hers.

She turned off at the familiar exit and followed the back road until she reached her driveway. There was a rainbow over the hills. And there was a car in her driveway. As she saw it her foot hit the brakes, hard, and she jolted forward. How ... but how did ... where ... it was a dark-blue Ferrari, and Nick Waterman was standing in the driveway next to Tygue. Tillie waved sheepishly from the door. And with her heart pounding, Kate pulled slowly into the drive. The sound of the gravel startled them both and they turned to look at her. Tygue ran toward the car, waving, with a big grin of excitement, and Nick simply stood there and watched her, with that endless smile of his. She stopped the car and stared back. What could she say? And how had he found her? Weinberg, of course. That was easy. She should have been angry at Stu, and normally she would have been. But she wasn't. Suddenly all she wanted to do was laugh. She was so G.o.dd.a.m.n tired, all she could do was laugh. And Tygue was reaching into the car window and talking as fast as he could.

"Hey, you, wait a minute, slow down. Wait till I get out of the car." But the child certainly looked happy.

"Did you know Nick was a football hero? And he worked in a rodeo?"

"Oh really?" What had happened to him? When Weinberg had been there for only an hour, Tygue had instantly detested him. But Nick was a football hero and a rodeo star. Apparently, he had the touch. She stooped to kiss Tygue and looked across at Nick. He hadn't moved. He just stood there. She walked slowly toward him with a careful smile on her face. Her eyes looked tired, but there was still laughter in them, and the smile was turning into the mischievous one he remembered from lunch.

"How was teaching?"

"Fine. Should I ask what you're doing here?"

"If you like. I came to see you. And Tygue."

She was standing in front of him now, and he looked down at her as though he wanted to kiss her, but Tygue and Bert were already underfoot.

"You make a terrific detective."

"You're not hard to find. Are you angry?" For a moment, he looked worried.

"I suppose I should be. At Stu, not at you. But"- she shrugged-"I'm so d.a.m.n tired, I couldn't get mad at anybody if my life depended on it." He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

"You couldn't have gotten much sleep, Mrs. Harper. What time did you get home?"

"About four." She liked the feel of his arm around her. It was heavenly as they walked slowly back to the house. For a moment she worried about Tygue, but he didn't seem to notice. She couldn't understand how Nick had put the boy so quickly at ease.

"Why did you leave like that?"

"I wanted to come home."

"That badly?" He still didn't believe her.

"The party was over. Cinderella had been to the ball. And what was the point of spending the night in a strange hotel, when I could have been here?"

He looked around and nodded. "I see your point. But I didn't feel that way about it this morning when I called. I got this sinking feeling that ... that I'd never see you again." His face sobered as he remembered it, and they walked into the house. "Weinberg was d.a.m.n dose-mouthed about it too."

"What changed his mind?" Kate peeled off her damp raincoat. She was wearing jeans and a blue gingham shirt. It was a far cry from the lady in the navy halter dress of the night before. Cinderella was just Cinderella again.

"He changed his mind because I threatened never to play tennis with him again."

"Now I know where his allegiance lies, not to mention his priorities." Kate looked at him and laughed. This was crazy. She had met him yesterday at lunch and now he was here? In her house? With Tygue leaping at his feet? Suddenly it all seemed ridiculous. She sat down in a chair and started to laugh, and she couldn't stop till tears ran down her face.

"What's so funny?" Nick looked blank.

"Everything. You, Weinberg, me, that d.a.m.n crazy party you took me to last night. I can't even begin to sort out what's real and what isn't." And then Nick started to laugh too, but now there was mischief in his face and he went to his briefcase. He hoped he had guessed right.

"What are you up to over there, Waterman?"

"Well, Kate"-he had his back to her, but there was humor in his voice and Tillie was smiling broadly as she watched the proceedings-"I know what you mean about not being able to sift what's real from what isn't, so ... to figure things out"-Kate was already grinning as she listened-"I thought I'd come up here once and for all and find out if you were really Cinderella, or just one of the ugly stepsisters." And with that he wheeled around, and produced a gla.s.s slipper, reposing on a gold-bordered red velvet cushion. It was a life-sized shoe, the best plastic made, and it had taken his secretary three hours to locate it through the prop department at Paramount. And now she was sitting there, in her blue jeans, laughing again.

"Well, Cinderella, shall we give it a go?" He walked over to where she sat, and she saw that the slipper was a high-heeled, pointed-toe number with a gla.s.s rosette. He kneeled at her feet while she broke into fresh whoops of laughter, as she stuck out the "dainty" red rubber boot she had worn in the rain.

"Nick Waterman, you're crazy!" But the entourage was loving it. Tillie couldn't stop laughing, Tygue was hopping around like a flea, and even Bert was chasing and barking as though he knew what was going on. But the boot came off, the shoe slid on, and Nick sat back on his heels with a grin.

"Cinderella, I presume." He couldn't help feeling victorious, and looking it. He had guessed exactly the right size.

She stood up on it gingerly and broke into laughter again. "How the h.e.l.l did you guess my size?" Practice, obviously. But whatever else he did, he certainly didn't do this every day. "And how did you find it?" She sat back down in the chair with a thud and a grin and looked into those magical blue eyes of his.

"G.o.d bless Hollywood, Kate. But it did take us a while."

"What time did you get here?"

"About three. Why? Was I late?" He laughed again, and sat down hard on the floor, narrowly missing Bert, who then crawled onto his lap, leaving two muddy footprints on his clean beige linen trousers. But Nick didn't seem to care. He was more interested in Kate, who was looking at him in astonishment.

"You got here at three? What have you done all this time?" It was already past five.

"Tygue took me down to look at the horses. With Tillie of course." He smiled in her direction, and she blushed, not unlike Kate. There was something about him, so open, so direct; there was no avoiding him, no shying away. "Then we went for a walk down by the river. We played cards for a while. And then you came home."

"Just call me Cinderella." She glanced down at her foot again, and wondered if she could keep the shoe. "You came up here just for this?" She couldn't get over it, but he averted his gaze.

"I was coming up this way anyway, as a matter of fact. I rent a house in Santa Barbara from time to time. I have it this weekend." Something made her doubt him, but she wasn't quite sure what. Why would he lie to her? "May I invite you two over to visit tomorrow?" He looked hopeful, but Tygue immediately jumped in with a fierce shake of his head.

"No!"

"Tygue!" Now what? The man had come all the way up from L.A. with a gla.s.s slipper, and Tygue was going to keep her from seeing him? But she wanted to see him! To h.e.l.l with Tygue.

"But Joey's mom invited me for the weekend! And they have two new goats and his dad said he might get a pony tomorrow!" It was the best news Kate had had all day.

"Hey, podner, that's dynamite!" Nick looked enormously impressed, and Tygue looked at him as though they were the only two people in the room who made any sense.

"Can I go?" He looked imploringly at his mother.

"Why not? Okay. And tell Joey he can come here next weekend. I may regret that, but I'll take my chances."

"Can I call Joey and tell him?"

"Go ahead."

Tillie took her leave as Tygue dashed into the kitchen to use the phone, and Kate held out a hand to Nick. He took it in his, as he sat down more comfortably near her chair.