Season Of Passion Part 9

"Yes. I survived it. Actually, he's a very nice guy. I suspect that underneath the veneer, he's a pushy sonofab.i.t.c.h, but I like him."

"d.a.m.n right he's pushy. How do you think he got you that fortune you just made?"

Kate laughed at the thought. "Good point. If I'd looked at it that way, I'd really have gotten nervous. You know what's amazing though, Licia?"

"Yeah. You."

"No. Seriously. After all these years. I wasn't that scared talking to him. We sat here like regular people, drinking coffee, looking at the contracts. It was really very civilized."

"You're in love?" Felicia sounded amused.

"Christ, no. He looks like Alice in Wonderland's kid brother, with carrot-red hair yet. But he's a good agent. And I didn't have a heart attack from talking to a man." Felicia was pleased for her.

"Okay. So now what?"

"What do you mean, now what?"

"I mean what happens next?"

"Nothing. I put the money in the bank, I send Tygue to college. Stu suggested we buy Bert a new bone"-she grinned-"and I might just buy those pink suede sneakers we discussed this morning."

"You're leaving something out, dear one." Felicia sounded sarcastic and determined again. Kate knew that voice only too well. "What about publicity for the book?"

"He says I don't have to."

"I don't believe you."

"That's what he said."

"Didn't he ask you to?" Felicia was floored.

"Yes."

"So?"

"I said I wouldn't do it."

"You know, you're an ingrate and a b.i.t.c.h, Kate Harper, and if I were your agent, I'd kick your a.s.s from one side of the room to the other."

"That's why you're not my agent, and he is."

"He let you off the hook that easy?"

"Yup." Kate sounded like her son as she grinned.

"Then he's crazy." Either that, or very very smart. She suddenly wondered.

"Maybe so. Anyway, I signed the contracts and I'm all through. Finished. Until the next book."

"What a drag." Felicia was smiling to herself.

"What do you mean 'what a drag'?"

"I mean just that. You crank them out, stay up late, smoke a lot, drink a lot of coffee, and you don't even get to do any of the fun stuff. You don't even get to spend the money."

"Why the h.e.l.l not?"

"On what? Groceries? What a drag. The least you could do for yourself is go on a spree somewhere civilized. L.A., here, Santa Barbara. h.e.l.l, you could even go shopping in Carmel."

"I don't need anything new to wear."

"Obviously. You don't go anywhere." And why did that make her a failure? Why did she have to go, dress, do, be in order to not "be a drag"? Why wasn't just writing the book enough, dammit? Besides, maybe she would do some shopping in Carmel the next time she saw Tom. And that was another thing. She had to go tomorrow.

"Listen, Licia, I'm not going to get into a ha.s.sle with you about this. Anyway, I've got to get off the phone."

"Anything wrong?"

"No. I have to call Tillie."

"Okay, love." Felicia sounded cool and distant when they hung up, and she wondered if she'd gotten through at all. But maybe ...

At her end, Kate made plans with Tillie for the next day, and then took a hot bath and went to bed. It had been a nerve-racking day, and she had none of the feelings she wanted to have. She wanted to feel proud of herself, and instead she just felt annoyed, as though she had failed at something. At last she fell asleep. Until the alarm woke her at six.

"You teaching again, Mom?" Tygue looked at her over breakfast, only this morning he whined the question, and it annoyed her.

"Yes, love. Tillie'll be here for you."

"I don't want Tillie."

"You can work on the garden. You'll have a good time. Eat your cereal."

"It's not crunchy enough."

"Come on, Tygue."

"Yerghk! There's a bug on my toast!" He pushed it away and Bert grabbed it off the edge of the table with a contented smacking of his lips.

"G.o.ddammit, Tygue!" And then suddenly there were tears in his eyes, and she felt awful. It was a h.e.l.l of a way to start the morning. She sat down again and held out her arms. He came to them slowly, but he came. "What's up, love? Something bothering you?"

"I hate him."

"Who?"

"Him."

Now what? "Who, for heaven's sake?" She was too tired to play games. "The man ... the one in that chair."

"You mean yesterday?" He nodded.

"But he's my agent, sweetheart. He sells my books."

"I don't like him."

"That's silly." Tygue shrugged and the car pool honked. "Never mind about him. Okay?" He shrugged again, and she grabbed at him and held him fast. "I love you and only you. You got that, mister?" A small smile crept back to his face. "So relax and have a good day."

"Okay." He grabbed his jacket, patted Bert, and headed for the door. " 'Bye, Mom."

" 'Bye, love." But when he left, she realized that she was angry at him. What was his problem? Jealous of Stu Weinberg? But it was hardly surprising. He had never seen a man in their house before. And it was time he got used to at least an occasional stranger. But still his recalcitrance made her feel pushed. He was pulling her one way, they were pulling the other. Everyone wanted something from her. And what did she want? She wasn't sure. And she didn't even have time to ask herself. She had to get going if she wanted to see Tom ... wanted to see Tom ... wanted ... what an amazing idea. It suddenly made her stop dead in the middle of the kitchen. Did she want to see Tom? She hadn't thought of it that way in years. She went to see Tom. But did she want to see him? Probably. Of course. She picked up her bag, patted Bert, and left, without answering the phone.

CHAPTER 10.

Kate stood up and stretched. She had only been with him for two hours and she was already tired. Tom was in a tiresome mood. Even Mr. Erhard looked worn out.

"Come on, love. Why don't we take a walk to the boat pond?" There was silver threaded into his hair now, but he still had the clear, happy face of a child. Happy most of the time anyway. But sometimes he had the fretful nervousness of a child in distress.

"I don't want to go to the boat pond. I want Willie."

"Then let's go get Willie."

"I don't want Willie."

Kate tightened her jaw and closed her eyes for a minute. Then she opened them again with a bright smile. "Want to lie in your hammock?" He shook his head in answer, and looked as though he was going to cry. In fact he looked just the way Tygue had that morning. But Tygue had been jealous of her agent. What was Tom's problem? And dammit, he was so easy sometimes, so lovable. Why did he have to be like this today? She had enough on her mind.

"I'm sorry, Katie." He looked up at her and held out his arms. It was as though he suddenly understood, and she felt guilty as she took him in her arms, leaning down to reach him in his chair.

"It's all right, sweetheart. I guess you just need some new games." It had been months since she'd brought him any. And then she had brought him the ones Tygue had just outgrown. Cast-off games and puzzles from his son. But she didn't see it that way. It was just cheaper buying one set than two. She held him close as she leaned over him and she felt him tighten his grip on her. For the strangest moment, she had an urge to kiss him. Like a man, not like a little boy.

"All I need is you, Katie. You don't have to bring games."

Just hearing him say that gave her the oddest feeling. She pulled away suddenly and looked into his eyes. But there was no one there. No one but Tom, the child. Not the man.

"I love you too." She sat down on the gra.s.s next to him, holding his hand, and the irritation of the first half of the day started to fade. For a moment she wanted to tell him what was happening. The book, the movie, what it all meant ...

"Want to play Bingo?" He looked down at her sunnily, and she smiled a small tired smile, with her head tilted to one side. She had worn an old lavender wool skirt and soft matching cashmere sweater. He had bought them for her shortly after they were married. He had loved them. Once. Now he didn't notice or remember. He wanted to play Bingo. "Want to?"

"You know what, love? I'm kind of tired. In fact ..." She took a deep breath and stood up. She had played enough games for one day. With Tygue, with Tom, with herself. "In fact, I think it's time for me to go home."

"No, it's not!" He looked heartbroken. Oh Jesus. No! She didn't want him pulling at her too. "It's not time to go!"

"Yes it is, my love. But I'll be back in a couple of days."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will." She smoothed the soft lilac skirt and looked up at him as Mr. Erhard approached. He had Willie and some books under one arm. "Oh, look what Mr. Erhard has for you." But Tom looked like a sad, angry little boy. "Be a good boy, darling. I'll be back soon." He held her close for a minute, and for the first time in a long time it tore at her soul again. She needed him now. And he wasn't there. "I love you." She said it softly and then backed away with a wave and a too bright smile in her eyes. But Tom was already holding Willie and reaching out for his books.

Kate walked back to the car with her head bowed and her arms tightly crossed, as though giving herself the hug she suddenly felt she needed so badly. And then as she slid into the car, she sighed and looked up at the trees. It was crazy. She had so much. She had Tygue, in a way she still had Tom, and she had just sold a book and a movie. She had just made three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and she felt like a kid with a busted balloon.

"This is crazy!" She said it out loud and then laughed and lit a cigarette as she started the car. And then she had a better idea. She sat back for a minute with a mischievous smile, forgetting where she was and why she was there. Or rather, remembering where she was in a way she hadn't in years. Carmel, for six and a half years she had come to see Tom, and she had never driven the last twelve miles into town. Never gone to see the shops. Never had lunch there. Never walked along the main street. Never sat on the beach for an hour to unwind. Six and a half years and she had traveled the same well-worn path back and forth. And suddenly, she had a wild urge to drive into town. Just to see it. To wander along a little bit ... the shops ... the people.... she looked at her watch. She was early. She had cut the visit short by almost two hours today. Two hours. With a grin she released the brake and turned left when she reached the road. Left. The road to town.

It was a pretty road bordered with palm trees, and eventually little pastel cottages dotted the road. She was coming closer to Carmel. Nothing looked familiar yet, but her heart was pounding horribly. G.o.d, what was she doing? Why now? In two days she was venturing farther out into the world than she had in almost seven years. She had let Stu Weinberg come up to see her from L.A., and now she was going into Carmel. Such tiny acts, but they were a c.h.i.n.k in the wall she had built. And then what? What would come next? A torrent? A flood? Or a slow trickle of the outside world over a long period of time? What if it got out of hand? What if ... she couldn't go on. She pulled the car off the road, and stopped. She was almost out of breath, and the road suddenly looked menacing instead of inviting.

"I can't." Her voice trembled as she said it, and there were tears backed up in her throat. "I can't ..." But she wanted to. Dammit, she wanted to. For the first time in years, she wanted to see what the place looked like, what they were wearing, how their hair was done. It was crazy to care about nonsense like that. But in the town where she had made her home they were still wearing teased beehives and mini-skirts ten years past their prime on bodies thirty years past theirs. She wanted to see people who looked like people she had known. But what about all the decisions she had made, everything she had chosen? It was threatened now. She had written a book that told more than it should have, of Tom, of herself, of her life. And the d.a.m.n thing was going to be splashed all over the country. Hundreds of thousands of copies, and a movie ... and ...

"Bulls.h.i.t." She opened her eyes wide and looked around as she eased the car back on the road. She had sold a book and a movie, she had a right to an hour in Carmel. Her face set into a mask of determination and she stepped on the gas. And suddenly things started looking familiar. Nothing had changed very much in all the years since she'd last been there. The pastel-colored cottages looked the same, the bends in the road, the quaint little hotels, and then suddenly the main tree-lined street leading right to the beach two blocks away. And along those two blocks, dozens of tiny boutiques. A few tourist traps, but for the most part they were elegant stores. A world she hadn't seen in six years. Gucci, Hermes, Jourdan, Dior, Norrell, Galanos, Givenchy ... names, labels, scarves, perfume, shoes, she saw it all as she drove slowly down the street and slid into a parking place. It felt good now. She was glad she had come. She was even smiling broadly to herself as she hopped out of the car.

The first thing that caught her eye was an exquisite cream-colored silk suit in a shop window. They were showing it with a peach-colored blouse, and cream-colored shoes with a tiny gold chain that looped around a naked heel. She felt like a little girl again. She wanted the bride doll and the teddy bear and the doll with the stockings and the bra and ... she practically giggled as she walked into the shop. She was suddenly glad she had worn the old cashmere sweater and skirt. They had weathered well. And she had worn her long hair in a loose ladylike knot at the nape of her neck. Today, she hadn't even let it down for Tom.

"Madame?" The woman who ran the shop was obviously French, and she looked at Kate with a measuring glance in her eyes. She was a small, trim woman with graying blond hair, and she was wearing a gray silk dress and a rather staggering triple strand of pearls. But Kate still remembered that side of Carmel. People dressed. Shopkeepers, restaurateurs, visitors, natives. Only the handful of "artists" in the area looked artsy craftsy. Everyone else looked as though they were going to Maxim's for lunch. "May I help you?"

"May I just look?"

"But of course." The woman was gracious, and turned her attention to the latest copy of L'Officiel on her desk. Kate remembered modeling for them once. A thousand years ago. And then the suit in the window caught her eye. The woman in the gray silk dress looked up with a smile. She hadn't wanted to suggest it, but she had thought of it immediately. And then their eyes met and Kate laughed. There was laughter dancing in the other woman's eyes as well.

"May I?"

"I'd love to see it on you. We just got it in."

"From Paris?"

"New York. Halston." Halston. How long had it been since she'd felt those kinds of fabrics? Seen the clothes? And what the h.e.l.l did it matter, dammit, except somehow ... it did. Now it did. She needed to celebrate her success.

She grabbed three dresses and a skirt as the owner of the boutique got the suit off the mannequin with the help of an a.s.sistant. Kate was loving every minute of it, and when she tried on the suit, she loved it even more. It was made for her. The peach blouse turned her pale, delicate skin to a warm rosy blush, and her green eyes danced as she looked at the suit. It flowed over her body. The skirt was mid-calf and draped itself around her like a caress, the jacket was long and feminine and graceful. She tried the shoes on too, and she felt like a princess, or maybe even a queen. The suit was two hundred and eighty-five dollars. The shoes were eighty-six. Shameful. Sinful. And where in G.o.d's name would she wear it all? It was what she had been telling Felicia for years. Where would she use stuff like that? At the supermarket? In the car pool, taking Tygue and his little buddies to school? Bathing Bert?

"I'll take it." And in a hasty gesture she added the red wool skirt and print blouse and the high-necked, long-sleeved black dress she had tried on first. It looked terribly grown up and almost too serious, but it was so d.a.m.n elegant. And subtly s.e.xy. s.e.xy? That was crazy too. Whom did she need to look s.e.xy for? Willie the Bear? What in h.e.l.l was she doing? She was spending just slightly over five hundred dollars on clothes she would probably never wear. Maybe she could get away with the cream silk suit at Tygue's college graduation. But even then, only if he went to Princeton or Yale. The idea made her grin as she wrote out the check. She was going nuts. It was all that money those lunatics in Hollywood and New York were going to be paying her. It was a delicious kind of craziness though, and she reveled in it. She even added a tiny bottle of perfume, the kind she had worn years before. And it was only as she walked back to the car with her arms full of bundles that she noticed where she had parked. The hotel where she and Tom had stayed on their last visit to Carmel ... their hotel ...

"Not anymore." She said it softly and looked away as she put the packages in the trunk. Maybe she'd leave them there. Maybe she'd sell them with the car. She didn't need them after all. But as she thought of them again, she couldn't wait to try on the suit again when she got home. And the black dress. Tygue would think she was crazy. She'd wait until he went to bed.

She drove home faster than she ever had before. This time, she didn't even feel guilty. And the funniest part was that no one knew she had done anything different; no one had to know. Maybe she could even do it again. The idea made her laugh as she turned into the driveway. Right on time. She had used the extra two hours well. She waved at Tillie as she parked the car behind the house. They were busy in the garden again, and Tygue looked a lot happier than he had that morning. He waved at her frantically as he burrowed into his planting.

"Hi, love!" She left the packages in the car and went to kiss him, but he was too busy. Even Bert had a new bone and was off by himself. Kate wandered happily into the house. Everything was just fine. And there was a message from Felicia, saying she'd be down for the weekend.

And she was. She came down with three bottles of champagne, and an armload of presents. Silly presents, fun presents, things for Kate's desk, for her house, for her room, and then from the bottom of the bag of goodies she handed Kate a small silver-wrapped box.

"Not another one!" Kate was still laughing, but Felicia's face had grown quiet and serious and there was a look of tenderness in her eyes. "Oh Jesus, something tells me this one's for real."

"Maybe so."

There was a small neat card stuck into the ribbon of the silver box. Kate opened the card carefully, and read it as tears filled her eyes. "To the lady with the golden heart, all you need is courage. The Cowardly Lion discovered that he had the courage all along. All he needed was a medal to remind him of it. You are hereby reminded that you are not only brave, but able and good and wise and much loved." And it was signed "The Good Witch of the North." Kate smiled through her tears.

"From The Wizard of Oz?"