Season Of Passion Part 21

"I think you've gotten off lucky though. I was all set for him to resent you like crazy, but he doesn't." She was still amazed.

"He probably will, when he figures out that I'm here to stay." He kept saying that-"here to stay." How did he know? How could he be so sure? What if it didn't work out? In a way, it frightened her that he was so sure of himself.

"Come on, Kate, you look tired. Enough of all this worry-wart s.h.i.t. I love you, and I think Tygue is terrific, and I'm not going to run out on either of you. And I also won't spoil him rotten if you don't want me to. No more ponies." He grinned at her and tugged at a lock of her hair. "Not for at least a week anyway."

"You sound just like Licia."

"Christ, I hope I don't look like her."

"Not in the least, my love." And with a slow happy smile, Kate forgot about her son and stretched out her arms to her lover again. It was almost four o'clock in the morning when they stopped making love, and Kate lit a cigarette with a contented sigh. She glanced over at her alarm clock and winced.

"You're going to be so tired tomorrow."

"What about you? Can you go back to bed after Tygue goes to school?" He looked worried about her. She did a lot in a day too. He could always sleep when he got back to L.A.; except on rare occasions, he didn't have to be at the studio until three. Most of the show's procedures were pretty well set, so he rarely left his house before two, except when he had a date for lunch.

Kate sighed in answer to his question about going back to bed. "No. I'm going up to Carmel tomorrow."

"To teach?"

She nodded. But she hated lying to him. "Could I go with you sometime? I'd like to see what you do."

But she looked away and stubbed out the last of the cigarette before answering. He couldn't see her face, and when he could, he wasn't sure what he saw. Distance more than anything else. It surprised him. And he saw something hidden in her eyes, which bothered him more.

"They don't let me bring anyone with me. It's kind of a difficult place."

"Do you like it?" He was searching for something as he looked at her, but he wasn't sure what.

She closed her eyes. "As those places go, yes." Oh G.o.d, she wanted to get off this subject, but she had to sound convincing. She had to make it sound like a job. She couldn't tell him about Tom. Not yet. Not even Nick.

"Can't you do something like that closer to home?" She shook her head. He almost hated to ask any more questions, and besides, they were both tired. He had other things on his mind, too. He ran a hand softly up her leg, and she looked at him in surprise. She was glad he wasn't pushing the subject of what she did in Carmel. The hand on the inside of her thigh traveled up and she smiled and reached out for him.

"Again?"

"Is that a complaint?" He was smiling softly too. Something happened between their bodies that had never happened to him with anybody else, not quite like that. It was a kind of ecstasy neither of them had ever known. And when the alarm rang at six neither of them regretted their night without sleep.

CHAPTER 22.

"Did you teach today?" He looked at her carefully as he sat down in a chair by the fire. He had just come in, and with a smile at Kate he loosened his tie. She looked almost as tired as he did.

"Yeah, I taught." There was a moment's pause. "How was the show?" It had been a hard day with Tom too. He had a cold and sore throat and twice he had cried.

"The show was a killer." He named three of Hollywood's top stars, two of them female and known to be at war with each other. But he didn't want to talk about the show. He wanted to talk about the one thing she wasn't telling him. And he wanted to know why. Something had continued to bother him for weeks. Discrepancies, little threads. Something. It had gnawed at him on the drive back to L.A. that morning. It had been gnawing at him ever since he met her. Just tiny, tiny pieces of the puzzle that were always left out. Things she didn't say, years she didn't talk about. And some of the things she did talk about had bothered him too. The way her parents had abandoned her, her distrust of "fate," her years alone with Tygue, and the "teaching job" where she couldn't bring anyone along. As he sat over his third cup of coffee on his terrace in L.A., he had felt a sudden urgency about knowing the answers, and he had plenty of sources for the answers he wanted. Maybe yet another night without sleep was giving him crazy ideas, but what the h.e.l.l, he had nothing to lose by looking for an explanation, and she didn't have to know. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for, but he knew there was something. And his first question had to do with her name, and the book. That was the first coincidence that didn't sit right. She knew too much about football, about ... the answers had come back over a period of days and had finally tied into one solid story one afternoon, just before five o'clock as he sat in his office at the studio. The answer didn't surprise him at all. The man at the studio research office was his friend, and Nick had already told him that the inquiry was highly confidential and entirely personal. He wasn't worried about a leak. But he hated what he heard. For her sake.

"I found out just about all I can on the girl you had me check out. But first, let me tell you what else I found.

"Funnily enough, I didn't even remember the guy until we came across the clips from the show. I called the papers and the newsroom archives at the network after that. Tom Harper, he was a big football star about ten years back. We had him on the show three or four times, when Jasper still worked out of New York. Before your time, Nick. Anyway, he was a nice guy, I think. America's number one hero. I don't know why the name didn't click when you asked me this morning. He was a pro hero for eight or nine years until his career started to slide. I don't remember the details but he started getting into trouble, his career was on the rocks, he was getting too old for pro ball. Did some crazy thing like try to shoot the team owner, or manager or something, and wiped himself out instead."

"Killed himself?" But now Nick was remembering the story too. He had even met Harper once or twice when he himself was starting out in pro football. How quickly they had all forgotten. Six, seven, maybe eight years before, it had been big news, and now it took a research office to jolt the name back into mind. Kate would have been pleased to know that.

"I don't think he died, not right off anyway. I couldn't get you all the details on that, but originally he was only critically wounded, paralyzed, something like that. Eventually they moved him down to some fancy sanitarium in Carmel, and I guess everyone forgot him after that. No one seems to know if he's still alive or not, and I couldn't find out the name of the sanitarium or I'd have called. But that's about all we got on him. One of the newsroom guys had a story that explained that Harper was paralyzed from the waist down, and permanently impaired mentally when they moved him to Carmel, but that's about it on Harper. As for the girl, she was his wife. There's not much on her. Some footage of her coming and go from the hospital. They sent it over here and it made me sick to watch it. She has that G.o.dawful look of people living in a nightmare, and there was another clip of when they were loading him into the ambulance for the trip to Carmel. He looks like he doesn't know what's happening, kind of childlike and dumb. There's absolutely nothing on either of them after that. I got a little background on her, but d.a.m.n little. She went to Stanford for a few months, went to live with Harper after her first year there, traveled everywhere with him, but stayed pretty much out of the limelight. She was a model or something for a while. Kind of a pretty girl, then at least, but that was quite a while ago. And the only bit of scandal about her was that apparently her parents disowned her or something for marrying him. They were your basic staunch upper-middle-cla.s.s sn.o.bs, who couldn't stand the idea of their princess marrying a jock or something. Anyway they cut her off.

"That's all I know, Nick. What happened to him, if he's still alive, or what happened to her, I couldn't tell you. There's just no press record on any of that. If you can find the name of that sanitarium in Carmel they'll probably be able to tell you if he died, but the name of the place may have been kept out of the press. I don't know. Want me to work on that?"

"No, I can do that myself. And listen, thanks a million. You got me everything I wanted to know." And more. He knew everything now. The rest he could figure out for himself. Obviously, Tom was alive, and still in Carmel. That was the mysterious "school" she went to. It had happened seven years before. And Tygue ... Tygue was six. Kate must have been pregnant when Tom Harper shot himself. What an incredibly long time for Kate to live the way she had. He felt subdued for the rest of the evening as he mused over what he'd heard, and thought about her. He wanted to talk to her about it, to air it out, to hold her in his arms and let her cry if she still needed to after all these years. But he knew he couldn't say a word. Not until she did. He wondered how long it would take.

He looked at her now as she sat across from him, watching him, and he looked at the circles under her eyes. She was paying a price, too, for their happiness and her double life.

"How did it go in Carmel, Kate? Difficult today?" He hated that look of pain in her eyes. It told him the rest of the story, the part the research office didn't know. He wondered just how bad off Tom Harper still was. He had gathered from the research material that the mental damage had been irreparable. That had to be an incredible strain. But he still couldn't imagine what it was really like, dealing with someone like that on a regular basis. Someone you had loved.

"Yeah, it was difficult today." She smiled and tried to shrug it off, but he wasn't letting her. Not just yet.

"Are they very demanding?" He was asking her about Tom, not about "them," but he hoped she'd tell him the truth anyway. Some kind of truth at least.

"Sometimes. People like that can be very sweet, and very childlike, or very difficult, like children too in that respect. Anyway, never mind that, tell me about the show." The subject was definitely closed. He saw it in her face.

"The people on the show can be 'very sweet and very childlike' too, or total s.h.i.ts and equally childlike. Maybe most actors and celebrities are r.e.t.a.r.ded too." He smiled at her and sighed.

"Did you get the house for this weekend, by the way?" She was happily unb.u.t.toning his shirt and he nodded.

"Yes. And you know, I was thinking. How about if all three of us stayed there this time?"

She thought about it for a long moment and then looked up at him. "Why not here?"

He shook his head carefully. "Not yet. This is Tygue's turf. I don't want to crowd him." He thought of everything, and he cared about everything. Just as she cared about him. Enough to worry about the way he looked. Exhausted.

"Nick?"

"What, love?" He lay back against the couch, his eyes closed, holding her hand. He was trying not to feel hurt that she wouldn't tell him about Tom. But he knew he'd just have to wait until she was ready.

"What are we going to do?"

"About what?" But he knew. He was wondering the same thing. Neither of them had had a full night of sleep in three weeks.

"You can't go on running around like this forever."

"Are you telling me I'm over the hill?" He opened an eye and she grinned.

"No. I'm telling you I am. And if it's killing me, I can imagine what it's doing to you. I'm not driving to Los Angeles every day."

"Never mind. Why don't we just ride out the summer? And then we'll see."

"But then what?" She had worried about it all the way back from Carmel. The drive gave her an idea of what Nick was doing every morning and every night. The distance was the same. "What the h.e.l.l are we going to do after the summer?"

"I could buy a plane. A helicopter maybe." He was only half teasing and she kissed him softly on the cheek. It was all her fault too. But there was Tygue, and she couldn't just ... "Hang in there, darling. And then we'll see. I'm waiting to find out what Jasper wants to do about the show. That might change everything. And he has to make up his mind in the next two weeks."

"What do you mean, it'll change everything?" She looked even more worried.

"Never mind. Now stop worrying about it, Kate. And that's an order."

"But ..."

"Shh!" He pressed his mouth against hers, and met every objection with a kiss until at last she was laughing, and they fell into bed. But tonight they didn't even make love. They just slept, wrapped around each other, exhausted. And Nick was already gone when Kate woke up the next morning.

"Where'd you get this?" Tygue picked up a huge white tee-shirt and held it in the air with a look of suspicion, as his mother covered herself with the sheet. This was the first time Tygue had appeared in her bedroom before she'd wakened to put on a nightgown, and she felt oddly defensive. And they had been so tired that Nick had forgotten his undershirt under the bed.

"I used that yesterday to do some gardening in."

"It smells like Nick." He eyed her fiercely. Jealousy was beginning to set in. Nick had been right. The initial glow had been too good to be true, or to last.

"Nick gave it to me. What do you want for breakfast, cereal or eggs?" And why was she making explanations to him, dammit? She had a right to have anyone's undershirt under her bed. Jesus.

"I want French toast or pancakes." He said it in a tone of argumentative accusation.

"That's not on the menu." She looked at him sternly.

"Oh all right. Eggs. When's Nick coming up to see Brownie again?" The funny thing was that he sounded anxious to see Nick, and yet angry too, and as though he was looking for a fight with his mother.

"He said he'd be up this weekend. In fact"-she held her breath-"he invited us both to stay at his house in Santa Barbara. How does that sound?"

"Okay. Maybe. You coming too?"

"Sure. Any objection?"

"Nick doesn't like to talk about horses when you're around. When we're alone he talks about better stuff."

"Well, maybe you two could go off to the stables alone, or for a walk on the beach or something. How about that?"

"Okay." There was the first glimmer of a smile. "Can I bring Joey?" She hadn't even thought of it, but it wasn't a bad idea. It would keep him busy, and give her and Nick more time alone.

"I'll ask, but I suspect Nick will say yes." Nick said yes to everything Tgyue wanted. Sometimes that bugged her. He had kept his promise about not spoiling Tygue too much, but still he indulged the boy, and it irritated her. It made it harder for her to control Tygue. It made Nick look like the good guy, and made her look like a louse when she disciplined him. Besides, it was new to her to have someone else become the source of special treats for Tygue. Tygue had looked to her for everything for so long that it was a little hard to share the glory. She didn't like to admit it, but she knew it was true. There had been Felicia of course, but Felicia's trips were a rare event, Nick was becoming part of every day, and with familiarity came a certain a.s.sumption of authority that was also a little hard to take. Tygue wasn't the only one with some adjusting to do. Kate had some new things in her life to accept too, but the lessons were worth learning, for Nick.

"Don't forget to ask Nick about Joey." Tygue muttered the reminder over his shoulder as he left the room.

"I won't. Now go get dressed for school." He vanished into his room and she scooped the large white undershirt into a drawer, but she sniffed it first. It smelled just like him, lemons and spice. Just holding the shirt made her want him.

But that morning, he didn't call. Stu Weinberg did.

"I have a surprise for you, Kate." He sounded immensely pleased with himself.

"Good or bad?"

"I only have good surprises." He tried to sound insulted but couldn't.

"Okay, tell me."

"Well, m'dear, we have just been asked to invite you to spend eight days at the Regency Hotel in New York, three days in Washington, two days in Boston, and a day in Chicago on the way back. It's a tour for your book, and you're on the best possible shows in all four cities. You're being offered first-cla.s.s accommodations everywhere, and strictly four-star treatment. Miss Harper, you've made it."

"Oh G.o.d." Another mountain to climb. And she was so happy at the plateau she had just reached. Why did she have to move up now? "Do I have to?"

"Are you kidding?" He sounded horrified. "Look, Kate, to put it bluntly, do you want a best seller or a bomb? Baby, if you like your royalties, you have to do some of this too."

"In other words, sing for my supper." She didn't sound pleased. "How many days does that make altogether?"

"Exactly two weeks. Now that's not so bad, is it?"

She sighed deeply. "I guess not. Can I let you know though? I have to see if I can get someone to stay with Tygue."

"Sure, love. That's fine. I'll call you back later."

"How soon would I have to go?"

"Monday." He didn't even apologize.

"In four days?" It was already Thursday.

"He didn't give me much notice for chrissake." And then he stopped. Dammit.

"Who didn't?"

"The guy in the publicity department at your publisher."

"Oh. Well, I'll call you later." She wanted to call Nick, and at his end, Stu let out his breath softly. Jesus. He'd almost blown it. And he had promised Nick he wouldn't. It must have been going great guns for Nick to call and make a request like that. Why couldn't he just ask her himself? But Stu knew why. If Nick had asked her, she wouldn't have gone. This just might get her going.

She got Nick at his apartment, and he sounded sleepy. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, just daydreaming. What's up, love?" She could hear him yawn, and imagined him stretching.

"You forgot your undershirt."

"No place outrageous, I hope." He smiled to himself as he remembered how she had looked that morning sound asleep when he left.

"It was under the bed. Tygue found it."

"Oops. Any problem?"

"Not with Tygue."

And then he noticed that she sounded worried. He sat up in bed with a frown.

"Stu just called me." The frown deepened. And he waited.