by Alison Tyler
Now the idea of going back to that store, the same one at which she had bought the ingredients to make that special brew for Luke, felt too depressing. Anyway, she told herself, she wasn't one of those fanatic health-food nuts. Unfortunately, that brought to mind the dogless hot dog and beer she had with Luke on that moonlit cruise.
Dodger doctored his coffee with three miniature plastic containers of cream and two hefty teaspoons of sugar. He knew something pretty serious was up with Cat when she didn't break into a lecture about cholesterol. He wondered how a daughter he had raised alone from the time she was a tot could be so different from him in so many ways. Except when it came to being stubborn. That was one quality they shared.
"I hear you went off somewhere with Joanie Weston yesterday. Did you have a good time?" She never could let something sit.
Now there was another difference. Dodger was a very private man. Except for anger, mostly expressed on the job, he kept his emotions to himself. He especially made it a habit not to discuss the details of his personal life with Cat.
He had been, he admitted to himself, quite a chauvinist. He used to divide women into two categories—friends and sex objects. Maybe that was one reason he kept his relationships to himself. Cat, ever on guard against "male chauvinist pigs," would have lectured Dodger's ear off on the subject.
But now he was beginning to discover that some of his ideas were slowly changing. Joanie Weston was not a mere sex object, yet she was not simply a friend, either. He had not figured out exactly what she was. But he had no intention of sorting the matter out with his daughter.
"Well?" Cat insisted when Dodger remained silent.
"Well, what? Sure, I had a good time. No big deal," he muttered. "And don't you go changing the subject."
"What subject?" she asked.
"The subject of why you didn't sleep last night. I hope Ben Seaton wasn't the cause," he said with a low growl.
"I thought you liked Ben." Good, she said to herself, he's off' the track. Now to keep him there.
"Sure I like him. He drives me occasionally crazy with his derring-do, but he's a good kid and a top-notch stunter."
"So?"
"So—as a stunter, he's just fine. As a beau for my daughter, that's altogether different."
Cat laughed. "Beau? Oh, Dodger, you're too much. You go around looking like a thirty-year-old at the ripe old age of fifty-three and some of your ideas are as old as Grampa Roy rocking away on his porch down in Biloxi."
"Fifty-two. Don't you go rushing the years on me. They move along fast enough on their own."
A note of sadness underlying his typical gruff tone made Cat look up sharply. The idea of aging, another topic never discussed, was obviously bothering Dodger enough right now to let his feelings sneak to the surface. Cat wondered how much his interest in the young, attractive Joanie Weston had to do with this sudden concern. She reached out for his hand.
There were a lot of things she and her father didn't talk about, but there was a fierce bond of love and affection between them. They had weathered some tough storms together and Cat had, over the years, cast herself not only in the role of daughter, but as friend and helper as well. No matter what happened, they both knew they could always rely on each other.
Cat was sorely tempted to tell Dodger about Luke. Right now she needed somebody who could understand the whole thing—more than she could. But then Dodger returned to the subject of Ben Seaton and Cat lost her nerve.
"All your life you've been around stunters. Raised by one, too. Well, I never could talk you out of following in my footsteps, even though I still think it's a crazy enough life for a man, never mind a girl…"
Cat groaned.
"I know. I know. You think it's chauvinistic for me to want to see my daughter sitting in a little cottage surrounded by a white picket fence playing with her kids, bringing over her husband's pipe and slippers when he gets back from some nine-to-five job. Well, maybe it is. But maybe that little fantasy of mine for you is there cause I never had that kind of life, never gave you the chance to see if you might like it yourself."
Cat squeezed Dodger's hand. "Come on, Dad," she said softly, "you gave me the best upbringing a kid could have. Why, you gave me everything I ever wanted. Most important of all, you gave me your love."
Dodger cast his eyes down at his coffee. It would never do to start bawling.
Cat understood Dodgers silence and didn't push. When the waitress showed up with the food, he had pulled himself together. He even managed another wink at the waitress, who had brought him what appeared to be an extra large order of bacon and sausage.
Cat wasn't very hungry, but Dodger's hawklike vision seemed to be calculating every bite she took. If he thought her appetite was poor on top of her exhaustion, he would definitely get somebody else to do today's stunt work. Cat had not gotten where she was in the profession by copping out, for any reason, on her assignments. She was not about to let a couple of sleepless nights, both caused by Luke Eliot—his presence and then his absence—affect her work.
While they ate breakfast Dodger drew several diagrams on a small pad of paper to show Cat the changes he wanted to make in the chase sequence.
"I had the boys completely reinforce the carriage on the Corvette. Put in two steel templates on the driver's side, so only the passenger side would cave in on collision. I also had the front springs replaced with a stiffer set and switched to Koni shocks."
"You left the Mag wheels alone?"
Dodger nodded. "But the new shocks are going to alter the handling. We don't want the car leaping too high in the air when you take that dive off the ramp."
Cat agreed, studying the diagram of the chase as Dodger turned it to her.
"Now," he explained, "this is the only change. Instead of throwing clear of the car as it hits the bend in the road, I want you to break it into a right spin a hundred yards after that bend. That's the widest stretch of the road, and as you pull out of the spin, Ben will come up at your side. The camera will slide to him, and there's a nice soft shoulder with lots of extra dirt piled up to cushion you when you hit. It should go nice and easy, so you won't get any black and blues. At that spot we'll pick up shooting the dummy car. Ben will link his car to it and get it going for the grand finale."
"One of these days you're going to let me get in on that finale," Cat grumbled. Up to now that was one stunt Dodger had vetoed. It was just too risky, requiring someone with strength as well as ability. If the hydraulic pin that locked the dummy car's frame to the driver's car ever jammed, which had happened on a few occasions, the driver had to shove it manually. If he couldn't unlock his car from the other one, they would both be heading for that crash. Not only was the impact itself dangerous, but the dummy car was always fitted with explosives to make the crash that much more effective and spectacular.
"Let's not get into that again. You concentrate on your stunt and leave the rest up to the others."
Cat gave him a soldier's salute. At least he wasn't wavering about her performing today. She was glad she'd eaten her whole breakfast. Actually, she felt a little better.
Her improved mood lasted until Dodger cleared out to supervise one of Ben's stunts that morning. The movie they were shooting, a wild suspense yarn, had more than its share of work for stunters. Today Ben was going to be chased across rooftops and then beaten up by the bad guys. Cat had considered going along to watch, but she knew Dodger expected her to at least rest this morning, if not manage a real nap.
Sitting alone in the coffee shop, she stared at the torn-off sheet of paper Dodger had left for her to go over. As she tried to concentrate, she told herself that work was the only surefire way to get her mind off Luke. Ever since those two leaps out the window with Luke watching, she'd been having this fantasy that he'd continue to be around when she did the rest of her stunts. The idea was so comforting that it disturbed her.
Unlike a lot of stunters, Cat wasn't superstitious. Many of them carried special good-luck
talismans with them when they performed—rabbit's feet, coins, religious medals—and Cat had seen them all. She had never needed a lucky charm before. Yet, in some ways, she had gotten it into her head that Luke's presence provided an almost magical effect. It was crazy. There was that word again. She scooped the paper into her pocket and walked out of the coffee shop.
An hour later, Cat was dutifully resting up in her hotel room when the phone rang.
"Cat, it's Joanie. Something's happened."
Cat immediately thought of Dodger. "What?" she asked breathlessly, having leapt out of her bed, hand clutched to her stomach.
"It's Ben. He slipped on a patch of wet roof ledge and fell."
Cat's relief that Dodger was all right swiftly moved to a sick fear about Ben. "Is he— Is he…"
"He's unconscious. They've got him over at Mount Zion. Dodger's at the hospital along with most of the crew. He asked me to call and have you meet us over there."
"I'm on my way."
Fifteen minutes later, Cat was racing down the corridor of Mt. Zion toward her father and the others gathered in the small alcove. Dodger left the group and strode over to her, taking her by the shoulders so that she came to a sudden halt.
"Take it easy. He's going to be okay. This is one time that boy's hard head came in handy. He's got a slight concussion and a mighty healthy-size bump on the noggin, but otherwise he's still in one piece."
"Is he conscious?"
"And complaining to beat a band. Wants to leave his nice comfy bed and stalk some more rooftops. The doctor's keeping him flat on his back in the hospital for forty-eight hours. And then he doesn't recommend any heavy-duty gags for at least a week or two."
"But that's when the film wraps."
"Don't I know it. Bud and Leroy can pick up some of the slack. So can you."
Cat nodded enthusiastically.
"But I'd better try to get Drury or Spider down for the tougher stunts and talk with Carl about rescheduling some of them. I just hope one of those guys is free."
Cat grabbed hold of his elbow as he started toward a phone a few yards down the hall. "Hold it a minute, Dodger. You're mostly worried about the crash today, right?"
"Not today, little girl. That's one rescheduling I've already taken care of. Turns out I don't have to worry about you being wide-awake enough to handle your gag today after all."
"When is it rescheduled for?"
"Tentatively, Wednesday. If I get one of my boys."
"How about your girl?" She tugged on his sleeve as he shook his head. "Come on, Dodger. I can do it. You know I can. I'm going to try that stunt one of these days, anyway—with or without your consent."
"Not while you're on my crew, you're not."
"I don't always work for you, Dodger."
"Well, then do it somewhere else. I'm not having it on my conscience if anything happens to you cause I let you do something I didn't think you could handle. And since I'm pretty tight with most other head stunt men, I don't think you'll be testing your wings in that direction for quite a while."
Cat glared angrily, her eyes almost black. "You are impossible. I know the risks. I also know I'm damn strong and levelheaded enough to handle things if an emergency… You aren't even listening," she snapped as Dodger turned to go.
"This here's a hospital, little girl. They've got sick people."
In a low, tight voice Cat said, "Don't call me little girl."
Dodger chuckled, completely deflating Cat's fury, and walked over to the phone. Cat joined the others, noticing as she drew near that Joanie's eyes kept shifting to the phone where Dodger was making his calls.
A couple of minutes later, Dodger, looking none too happy, sauntered over.
"No luck?" Joanie was the first to speak.
Dodger looked over at her and then shot a quick glance at Cat. He shook his head.
"How about Royce?" someone else suggested.
"Busted arm. Drury told me."
The doctor who was treating Ben came over to give them an update.
"Can my daughter go in and see him?" Dodger asked.
"Sure. It will probably do Mr. Seaton some good." The doctor eyed Cat appreciatively, his point clearly made.
Cat wasn't sure whether Dodger was still under the misconception that she and Ben had something going or whether he just wanted to keep her from pursuing her argument about doing the crash. Now that he couldn't get someone else, he was going to have to choose from those on hand. He may have put an end to her arguing for now, but it was only temporary. She smiled sweetly at Dodger and walked down to Ben's room.
"I don't know why, Doctor, but I just never seem to pick them right." Adrienne Vaughn sighed, staring from Luke to the colorful glass paperweight on his desk. She'd been seeing Dr. Eliot for three months now about the problem of her disastrous relationships with men. "Do you think I'm scared of intimacy or something? I read an article in Cosmo the other day that said that's the underlying reason behind most failed marriages."
"What do you think about the article?" Luke was always the psychiatrist—question for question.
Adrienne grinned. She was a bright, reasonably attractive thirty-two-year-old woman who understood that the therapy process was always directed toward encouraging the patient to come up with the answers. "I think Cosmo has a point. I get this funny feeling in my gut sometimes when I'm with a guy I've seen for more than a few times, and— and these sort of nutty questions start running through my mind."
"What questions?"
"Silly things like, does he remember to cap the toothpaste after he's used it? Does he leave his clothes lying around the floor when he gets undressed? More general issues, too, like, will he love me with curlers in my hair or when I'm sick? Will he still bring me flowers in ten years? Will we have anything to talk about a year from now?" her voice dropped. "Will he be faithful? That's always a big one."
"None of those questions sound silly to me. They seem quite important. Maybe being able to answer them is the secret of working out the problems you have with men."
"I'm trying to do that now with Michael. We've had only a few dates, so I cant even begin to answer most of those questions. Really, all I know right now is that I'm wildly attracted to him. But he's so different from me in so many ways— politically, socially… He's even in a bowling league!" She smiled, her eyes flashing down to her watch to see that her time was just about up. "On the other hand, most of the men I have more in common with bore me silly. Tell me, Doctor, do you believe the saying, 'Opposites attract?"
"It's certainly one that has been around for a long time." He smiled back as he stood up, signaling the end of their session.
Adrienne Vaughn rose. "Yeah, but how long does that attraction last?" She didn't expect an answer to the question, any more than she ever did, but it was one she sure would have liked someone to be able to tell her.
When his patient left, Luke's smile vanished. These past few days it seemed like every patient had brought up issues he could connect to his relationship with Cat. He had put all of his energy into his work as a way to stop thinking about her, and the plan had completely backfired.
Luke was tired, on edge; he hadn't taken a single note for his book in days; he'd burned the toast every morning so far this week, and it was only Wednesday. It was also only three days since he'd kissed Cat good-bye. It felt like a lifetime—a lifetime of missing her.
Two o'clock. His last patient had cancelled and he was through for the day. He called in to his answering service for messages. Nothing pressing from patients, but there were two calls from Teri. He hesitated, then dialed her office number. Teri must have told her secretary to put through his call immediately.
"Hi, stranger. You didn't return my call yesterday," Teri quipped.
Luke had pushed that message aside. "Tuesday's my tightest day, Teri. I'm lucky if I get time to grab a bite to eat or run to the bathroom."
"I wanted to see how you were feeling and find out whether we're still on for Fri
day."
"Friday? Oh, right. The Alcoholism Seminar at General. Yes, I'm still planning on it." He idly browsed through the newspaper on his desk as he spoke. Usually he read it first thing, but he had scheduled an appointment for seven this morning and hadn't had time to do more than scan the front page.
"Great. Why don't you come over for dinner first and then we'll go to the meeting together?" Her tone was casual, but Luke knew she would be hurt if he turned down her offer again. On the other hand, he did not want to give off misleading messages.
"I tell you what. Fridays I work till six. How about meeting me across the street for dinner at the Magic Pan and I'll take you up on your offer of homecooking another time?"
He heard an almost inaudible sigh and then her acquiescence. As he was about to hang up, Teri broke in. "By the way, guess who I ran into on my rounds yesterday at Mount Zion?"
"Who?"
"Your stunt friend."
"Cat?" The note of concern rang through sharply.
"Don't worry. She wasn't in a hospital bed. One of her pals fell off a roof and she was visiting him."
"Fell off a roof?"
"I told you that was a dangerous profession. The man was lucky. It was just a minor concussion, although how he didn't kill himself is beyond me."
"Is he a powerful-looking guy in his forties with dark—"
"He's thirty at the most. My guess is more like twenty-six, twenty-seven. Blond and extremely handsome. Your friend obviously thinks so, too. They were in a rather passionate embrace when I walked in with my group for rounds."
"Really," was all Luke could manage to eke out. One of her "kissing cousins" no doubt. "That was my buzzer for my next appointment," he lied. "I'll speak to you later."