Rapture

by Thomas Tessier

  "F'me. Got lt."

  "You can give Ted the message," he added. "I assume he hasn't been trying to get me."

  "He would have told me, I think," Callie said. 'He's completely wrapped up in the project."

  "Of course." The project. Sigma Tau, so sensitive they were forbidden to use those two words on any telephone-not even on the company's internal system. It was such a sweet contract that LiskerBenedictus could probably survive on it alone for the next five years.

  After Jeff hung up, he sat back on the bed and lit a cigarette. It was Wednesday evening, and the last twenty-four hours had been tiring.

  What was he really doing here? It seemed like the kind of fool's errand that could easily turn into a colossal embarrassment. He hadn't seen her since they were teenagers. She was married now and had a teenage daughter of her own. That in itself was so hard for Jeff to fathom that it almost paralyzed him.

  He opened a can of beer as he flipped through the Danbury telephone directory. There it was, Foxrock. A short section for a small town. He turned the pages slowly, enjoying his search. It didn't take long. There were only two Corcorans listed: Bonnie, on Indian Hill Road, and Sean R., also on Indian Hill Road. For a moment, Jeff wondered what the R. stood forsomething Irish, like Rory? He tried to picture the man. Florid, freckled, red-haired? He smiled. Georgianne marrying an Irish stereotype? Fat chance of that ever happening.

  What about the daughter? He tried to construct a chronology. Georgianne should be thirty-eight, or nearly so. If she hadn't given birth until after college, Bonnie would be fifteen, sixteen at most. Did she look like Georgianne at that age? It was a dazzling, terrifying thought. But Bonnie didn't really interest him. He was curious about Georgianne, not some teenager who probably dressed like Madonna.

  Should he dial the number and talk to her? Now? That was what he had come for, but Jeff was hit by another attack of uncertainty. He could still avoid this moment of possible contact. He could check out of the Mortlake Motel and get to New York at a reasonable hour. Catch a late flight to L.A. or else spend a night in Manhattan, where there were good restaurants, music, films, any number of pleasant things to do. It would make a lot more sense than sitting out in the middle of nowhere drinking beer and acting silly about a girl, no, a woman he hadn't seen in twenty years.

  Even if he did call the number, her husband might answer. Then what? Or if he did get Georgianne on the line, he might just dry up and not know what to say. His professional manner would desert him. The whole thing was a whim, a bad idea really, nothing more. The kind of thing that seems irresistible until you actually do it. Then you understand what a mistake it was all along.

  Jeff scrawled the two telephone numbers on the road map and put the directory back on the bedside table. He went into the bathroom and urinated, then sat down on the bed again and stared at the floor. All right. He had a plan, of sorts. He called Bonnie's number, and she answered on the second ring.

  "Hello."

  "Is Harold there?"

  `Who?"

  "Harold. Harold."

  Jeff nearly laughed, because he was doing such a good job of altering and coarsening his voice.

  "There's no Harold here," Bonnie Corcoran said. "What number did you want?"

  "Who's this?"

  "Bonnie. What number-"

  "Sor "

  Jeff hung up and fell back across the bed, his whole body shaking with excitement. Jesus Christ, that voice! As though it had come right out of his own head, not from the other end of a telephone line. It was like honey poured in his ear, lighting up the center of his brain with a warm glow. Bonnie sounded like Georgianne, as he remembered her. The voice of a teenager-deliciously appropriate, so right, so true to the voice he had carried in his mind all these years.

  That did it. He had to see her. Not the daughterhe didn't care about her-but the mother. Georgianne. No matter how it might turn out-awkward, embarrassing, a disaster-he had to see her.

  And why worry? Now that he had made the first move, he was sure the rest would fall in place. It required a little careful thought, that was all. Plan it, make it nice, smooth, relaxed. Something that would become a fine memory for all of them.

  Lighting a cigarette and opening another beer, he began to piece it all together. It was a special project, but nothing he couldn't handle. Jeff was good at special projects.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Foxrock wasn't much more than a village, off route 7 north of Danbury. Jeff got there just before eight o'clock the next morning. It was a rural community, and the houses were widely scattered along country roads rather than closely packed on neat residential streets. It took him nearly another half hour of driving around before he found Indian Hill Road.

  When he spotted the Corcoran mailbox, he took care not to slow down, and glanced only briefly at the house. As soon as it was convenient, he turned the car around and drove back. The second time he passed the house he noted the two cars in the driveway, one a blue compact, the other a deep-red or maroon wagon. The usual suburban scene.

  Back at the T -junction, he turned left, away from the center of Foxrock and stopped just before the first bend in the road, about a hundred yards along, where he pulled onto a grassy verge. He turned the car off, adjusted the rear-view mirror, and propped a road map conspicuously on the steering wheel. Next, he took the lid off a cup of coffee he'd picked up at a fast-food place on the way. Still hot. He waited.

  The wagon appeared fifteen minutes later and turned in the other direction. Two people in it. Precisely what Jeff had expected. Sean and Bonnie going to school. Hadn't Mrs. Brewer said Sean was a teacher?

  Now, Georgianne. He had no intention of barging in on her this early in the morning, having visions of her in some drab housecoat, her hair mussed, surrounded by breakfast dishes. It wouldn't be fair to either of them. She needed time, and he was prepared to wait.

  So he was startled when he saw the blue compact stop at the junction only a few minutes later. It headed toward town. Pushing the map aside, he started the car, anh turned it sharply around. He put his sunglasses on and hung back as far as he could; all he wanted was to keep her in sight. No passengersit looked good. The thought came to him that there might well be more than one blue compact on Indian Hill Road, but when he had to come up close behind her at the red light in the center of Foxrock, he was sure it really was Georgianne. The blond hair ... He cupped his hands in front of his face, lighting a cigarette with difficulty. He was trembling.

  He followed her all the way into Danbury, where she left her car in a municipal lot. Jeff parked there as well, though some distance away. Then he trailed her for two short blocks. She went into a place called the Reinecke Fitness Center. Jeff continued walking slowly along the other side of the street, trying to figure out what to do. If Georgianne was a customer, she would most likely be out in an hour or ninety minutes. But if she worked there, she might not reappear until lunchtime, or even the end of the afternoon.

  He bought a newspaper, found a convenient diner, and sat at the counter, by the front, where he could keep an eye on the entrance to the Fitness Center. He ordered coffee, orange juice, and a Danish. Later he had to ask for another coffee, but he hardly ever looked at the newspaper.

  What was she wearing? He had been trying to remember, but he didn't have a clear picture in his mind yet. He had been so concerned about keeping her in sight without getting too close that he hadn't been able to focus on details. A light summer skirt and blouse, appropriate for the May heat wave? It was maddening. For twenty years, whenever Jeff had thought of Georgianne, she had always come to mind in sharp, vivid images, so real he would sometimes think he could actually speak to her or touch her. But now, when he had finally seen her in the flesh, she was so elusive he didn't even know what she was wearing.

  Eventually he cgµldn't sit still any longer. He had to do something, move. So he walked back to the parking lot, got in his car, turned to the sports pages, and tried to concentrate on an article about
the Lakers.

  A little after eleven, he looked up and saw Georgianne at her car. She tossed something-a gym bag?--onto the front seat and locked the vehicle again. He was out and following her as she walked away in the opposite direction from the Fitness Center. She went into an art-supply shop.

  This is it, he told himself as he gazed absently at another store's window display. Putting his sunglasses in his jacket pocket he patted his hair. He was ready now to talk to her, and he was so excited his whole body felt charged. And yet he was very calm. After all the uncertainty, he knew he was not making a mistake.

  Then Georgianne was back on the sidewalk, coming in his direction. Jeff turned to face her.

  "Georgianne," he said clearly when she was less than ten feet from him.

  She stopped and stared. The blank look on her face changed to one of amazement. The shock of recognition, Jeff thought happily. But she hadn't put it together enough to say anything yet.

  "You look beautiful," he told her, smiling broadly and stepping closer.

  "Jeff? Jeff Lisker? My God, it's you!"

  They threw their arms around each other, hugging and kissing. Then they stepped back a pace and looked each other over once more, as if to make sure they weren't having a hallucination. And they hugged again.

  "Oh, Jeff, how are you?"

  "I'm just fine. And you?"

  "Fine. Stunned."

  Jeff smiled. "You look great," he said, gazing at her with deep affection.

  "So do you." Now Georgianne laughed. "I still don't believe this. That I'm standing here talking to you."

  "Well, you are," he said. "It's great to see you again. It's been so long. Too long."

  Georgianne was truly beautiful, somehow much more so than he had either remembered or expected.

  "I thought you were living out in California."

  "That's right. I've been there ever since college."

  "And you're back now for a visit."

  "Several things," Jeff said vaguely. "But before we get into that, where are you going right now?"

  "I was just on my way home. I live about ten miles from here, in Foxrock."

  "Well, no," Jeff told her. "You're on your way to lunch with me, instead."

  "Great. I'd love that."

  "Okay. Let's see. The restaurants probably don't open until noon. How about a Bloody Mary first?"

  "Sure," Georgianne said. "Do you know Danbury?"

  "Not a bit."

  "There's a fairly decent cocktail lounge just around the corner. I don't know how the kitchen is, but they serve lunches and dinners, too."

  "Let's give it a try."

  Jeff couldn't take his eyes off her as they walked. Georgianne had more than doubled her age but she seemed to be immune to time. Her face was still unlined. Her hair, shorter now, was thick and lustrous, the blond having mellowed into a rich honey color that glowed in the sunlight. She was radiant, her skin not rosy but almost golden. Jeff had found what he'd come looking for-the girl in the very long dream.

  "How long has it been?" Georgianne asked. "Not since we-"

  "More than half our lifetimes ago," Jeff said, and he was immediately annoyed with himself for sounding so pompous. "Twenty years, to be exact."

  "Twenty years. Is there a reunion?"

  "Other than this one? Not that I've heard of."

  They entered a tidy, middle-class bar. The furniture was dark-stained wood and there were prints of country scenes on the walls. It was unpretentious and, at this time of day, empty. They sat at a banquette and a waitress appeared to take their orders.

  "Well, to us," Jeff said, raising his glass, when she had returned with the drinks.

  "Why not," Georgianne said, smiling warmly. "To us." She touched his glass with hers.

  Jeff already knew he wanted to spend the entire day with this woman. She was glad to see him, to be with him. Nothing awkward or embarrassing about it. He was sure now he hadn't made a mistake in seeking her out.

  Georgianne's eyes, which Jeff thought he remembered as being green, now seemed to be silvery gray. But there was no denying the sparkle in them, the fire of life. He tried not to stare at her too much, but he was still on the high of simply seeing her and being in her presence. She met his gaze with no hint of self-consciousness.

  "Tell me," she said, "what are you doing here in Danbury? How did this happy accident come about?"

  "It's not entirely an accident," Jeff replied. "I had to come home for my father's funeral."

  "Oh, Jeff. I'm sorry."

  "I would have been coming back anyhow," he continued. "I have some business with Union Carbide in Danbury, and the two things just happened to coincide, more or less."

  "I see."

  "Anyhow, I was on the New Haven Road the other day and I saw the For Sale sign outside your house. Somebody told me you were living in this area, so I thought I'd see if I could find you while I was here. And then, this morning, almost as soon as I get here, who do I see walking toward me on the sidewalk?"

  "It's amazing, it really is." Georgianne shook her head slightly, smiling. "And what are you doingyour work?'

  "Computers," Jeff explained. "I have my own company, just outside Los Angeles. We design special systems for-well, for whoever needs them."

  "That's fantastic. And you're doing a job now for Union Carbide?"

  "Not yet. We're still in the talking stage and it may or may not come off. It's a very complicated deal."

  "How exciting!" Georgianne said, evidently impressed. "But we always knew you'd do well at something like that."

  "Yeah, but it's just work," Jeff said, "and it seems that's all I do. I can't tell you what a treat it is to see you. This is the first time I've been away from the office in years, and if it weren't for you, the whole trip would have been nothing but the funeral and business."

  "I'm glad to see you, too." Georgianne squeezed Jeff's arm lightly.

  "Tell me about yourself."

  "Oh, it's pretty boring," Georgianne said. "When I was in my second year of college I fell in love with a great guy. We got married right away, I quit school, and we've been together ever since."

  "Terrific," Jeff said quietly.

  "We have a daughter," Georgianne went on. "She's about to graduate from high school, if you can believe that. Sean-my husband-teaches in the middle school here in Danbury. We built our own house, piece by piece, and it took two long years. And ... what else can I tell you? Sean's a jogger; I go swimming every morning. Oh, and I do some pen-and-ink sketches-not very good, but it's better than just watching the soaps. It's all pretty quiet and normal, I guess."

  "Not at all," Jeff said. "It sounds great. The main thing is you like it and you're happy."

  "Right. I do and I am."

  "That's all that matters then. Tell me about your husband and daughter. Just the one child?"

  "Yes." The note of regret was clear in her voice. "Bonnie came early and lightning never struck again."

  "You would have liked more."

  "Sure, but we were lucky to have Bonnie at least. She's a great kid. Did I tell you she's graduating a year early? She's only seventeen. We're very proud of her. And Sean-he was a junior stockbroker when I met him, but he hated it and gave it up after a year."

  "Good for him," Jeff said. "A lot of people don't have the nerve to make that kind of move."

  "You must be married, Jeff."

  "Ah. I'm the one who's normal there," he said with a smile. 'I was married, but it didn't last long. You could say it was a California romance. I was working sixteen-hour days, trying to get the company off the ground. She ran off and I let her go. Eventually we got around to the formality of a divorce.'

  "That's a shame," Georgianne said.

  it was all wrong from the beginning,' Jeff added. "If I had been honest about it, I wouldn't have married her in the first place. I knew I'd be working all hours as far ahead as I could see, and that's no basis for a marriage. You've been very lucky."

  '1 know. Somet
imes I look at my daughter and think, It's a miracle, nothing less than a miracle, that she's the person she is. That she hasn't been messed up or damaged in some way. Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems it was easier when we were growing up."

  "I know what you mean," Jeff said politely. He had his own thoughts about the past, and they had nothing to do with that kind of middle-class paranoia.

  They had a second round of drinks and then ordered lunch. Jeff didn't want to move. They talked about old friends and acquaintances, where they were now and what they were doing, and Georgianne told him about her everyday life in greater detail-things that ordinarily wouldn't have interested him at all, but that now, in her presence, he found strangely fascinating. He could listen to her talk all day, and all night, too, probably. Just so long as he was with her.

  After the meal, Jeff ordered a cognac and persuaded Georgianne to have something else. She settled on Irish coffee.

  "I never drink this much," she said, "and it's beginning to catch up with me."

  "That's all right. It's a special day."

  "It certainly is," she agreed merrily. "Where are you staying, Jeff? The Hilton?"

  This threw him momentarily. The Mortlake Motel made little sense for someone supposedly in town to do business with Union Carbide. He was annoyed that he hadn't anticipated the question.

  "Uh ... no. I just drove down here this morning and I was planning to go back to the house in Millville tonight."

  "It's not that far," Georgianne said. "How long will your work keep you here?"

  He shrugged. "It's a day-to-day thing, but I expect to be back in California by Monday."

  "Oh, well, you must come to dinner. I'd love to have you meet my husband and daughter."

  "I'd like that very much," he said. "But first I'd like to take you out. How about dinner tonight, all of us?"

  Jeff had worked this out beforehand. In his mind it was important that he take the Corcorans out first. Dinner at their house-he had expected the invitation, of course-had to come later.

  "That would be wonderful," Georgianne said. "But you don't have to do that, Jeff."