by Davis Bunn
He rolled down all the car’s windows, then cut the motor and sat there. Staring at the spot where he had breathed his last. Remembering.
Jessica spoke to the world beyond the windshield. “I’ve always considered this a special place.”
Lucius had no idea how to respond, except, “It’s very lovely.”
“I used to find fireflies here. This was, oh, years ago. I mentioned it to a few people and they all said I was imagining things. Fireflies don’t live along the central coast. Or if they do, they don’t light up. But I know differently.”
Lucius found his view of the sea blurring somewhat. “I believe you.”
“Do you, now? How remarkable.” She was silent so long, Lucius thought that was all she had to say. Then, “I came here with my young man. He died far too soon. This place is all I have left now.”
Lucius swallowed hard.
“He was a most remarkable gentleman. But his health was not good. Terrible, actually.” She sighed. “What does it matter? It’s all gone now. Perhaps it was only real in my imagination. Like the fireflies.”
CHAPTER 57
Dino did not call.
Asha read through her would-be article, adding several final paragraphs about case studies that pointed toward unexplained and drastic personality shifts after near-death experiences. Then she sent it to Dino as an attachment. Her e-mail held to a begging tone, asking him to read, to think, to reconsider.
He did not respond.
The tension kept building all evening. Asha’s lovely little apartment became a cage. She forced herself to eat, but after a few bites she feared she was going to be sick. She could not even bring herself to clear the remnants. Just looking at food left her queasy.
The phone remained silent.
By ten o’clock she knew she could not hold it all inside. She did not want to call her grandmother. Sonya was already too involved. Sooner or later, Asha was going to have to explain the whole mess, but not now.
She called home.
When her mother answered the phone, Asha broke down. She was weeping so hard, she could not even speak.
“Asha, honey, take a deep breath.”
She did as her mother said, then asked, “How did you know it was me?”
“Oh, darling. Do you really think I have so many women who would call me after ten and cry so hard they can’t speak?”
For once, her mother’s tart manner actually helped. “I’ve made a terrible mess of everything.”
“You mean, with Dino?”
Just hearing his name was enough to cause her insides to cramp. “Yes.”
“Are you sure it’s your fault?”
“No. Not at all.”
“But you’ve spent all night sitting there alone and blaming yourself.”
“How did you know?”
Glenda Meisel chuckled warmly. “I may not be a trained psychologist. But I am a woman. Now catch your breath and tell me what happened.”
As she recounted the story, Asha filled her kettle and put it on the stove. Talking helped immensely. When the water boiled, she filled a mug and pulled out a packet of herbal tea. The floral scent filled the kitchen. She finished her account of the terrible, awful day, then just stood there, dipping the tea bag up and down. Content to wait. Breathing easier than she had since leaving the boardroom.
Glenda asked, “What are you doing?”
“Making tea.”
“An excellent idea.”
There was the sound of running water, then a pot being set on the stove. The act of sharing drew Asha closer than she had felt to her mother since . . .
Since before Jeffrey.
Finally Glenda said, “Would you like to know what I think?”
“Yes, Mother. I would.”
“Dino is acting like a perfect Mr. Potato Head.”
Asha laughed out loud.
“You remember?”
“Of course I do.” When she had been very young, the very worst thing Asha could say about an adult was that they were acting like the cartoon character. Asha had not thought of Mr. Potato Head in years.
“Asha, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You have done nothing wrong.”
She reached blindly for the box of Kleenex.
“You acted out of your highest principles. You remained the true professional. You seek what is best for your patient. Even when the patient does not wish to consider himself under your care. You have defied the authorities that hold your career in their grasp. You have done so because it was the right thing to do. The only thing.” Glenda was silent for a moment, then added, “Your father and I are very proud of you.”
“Oh, Mom.”
“Now you’re going to ask what you should do about Dino. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“You already know the answer, don’t you? You must do nothing at all.”
“I miss him so much.”
“Asha, my darling, we could both see how much you two are in love. And now you’ve had your first major fight as a couple. You are right and he is wrong. It is that simple. You have grown through the experience. You are growing into the woman your father and I always knew you would become. It is now up to Dino.”
“What if he doesn’t . . .”
“Then it is best that you discover this flaw in him early. Now. Before you involve yourself any more deeply in his life and world.”
She sniffed and wiped her face and swallowed hard. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“Now you’re going to hang up and go pour yourself a hot bath and then you’re going to go to bed and know that I am there, stroking your forehead and loving you with every shred of my being.” Glenda was quiet, then softly added, “Thank you so very, very much, Asha.”
“For what?”
“For letting me cry with you.”
CHAPTER 58
When Lucius rolled Jessica into Castaways, the entire restaurant came to a complete and utter halt.
The place were so quiet, he could hear the chair’s left wheel squeak softly as he followed Sylvie Cassick through the main room and around the bar. Jessica handled it with regal grace, ignoring them one and all. Lucius could have cared less. His day was far too perfect for such inconsequential elements as a little frozen attention.
Sylvie stopped at the far end of the restaurant’s long overflow table, where two empty places awaited them. “As I explained to your associate, Ms. Wright, we’ve been booked solid for weeks. Connor is playing tonight, you see.”
“And Connor is . . .”
“My fiancé.”
“How nice for you both.” She glanced up at Lucius. “Will this do?”
“It’s perfect,” he replied.
When Sylvie started to remove the chair at the head of the table, Jessica said, “Would you be so kind as to allow me to face the sunset?”
“Of course.” Sylvie waited as Lucius fitted Jessica in close to the table and seated himself, then said, “Marcela will be your waitress tonight. Can I get you something to start?”
Jessica took small bites of every dish, including everything on Lucius’s plates. She asked for champagne. After each meager sip Lucius reached over and refilled her glass. Her fingers were knotted and the joints overlarge, but she made do by will and determination. Her movements were slow, but very refined.
They spoke very little. The restaurant’s noise rose and fell in waves about them. They watched the sunset. They commented on the gulls. The food they both found to be artistically designed and exquisitely flavored. They said as much when Marcela asked, and then again when Sylvie came over. Jessica found great humor in their astonishment. She told Lucius, “I have not always been their favorite client.”
“That was then and this is now,” Lucius replied.
“Indeed. Take more champagne.”
“I need to drive us home.”
“Oh, nonsense. What’s the reason to be wealthy, if you can’t call for a ride when the moment requires?” She ta
pped his glass with one finger. “Drink.”
Sylvie chose that moment to step on the stage. She reached for the mike and said, “I suppose it comes as no surprise that my Connor . . .”
She had to wait through the cheers and whistles. When the crowd went quiet once more, she continued speaking. “Connor has finished filming. I’m happy to confirm that he’s managed to escape LA again. Which means he’s back home and ready to take his place here on the stage. Connor?”
A strikingly handsome man stepped through the crowd, pausing now and then to shake hands. His smile was arresting. The restaurant’s lights seemed to track him as he crossed in front of their long table and climbed up to where Sylvie waited. The crowd’s cheer carried into laughter as he embraced the restaurant owner, leaned her over backward, and kissed her soundly. Marcela fanned herself with somebody’s napkin and pretended to need Lucius’s chair back to keep from falling over. Then she realized where she stood, and glanced fearfully at Jessica. But tonight she found only a smile in response, and a request for more champagne.
Lucius found Connor’s singing to be a wrenching experience. Lucius knew every melody. And yet they were all refashioned to suit both the man and this new age. When Connor began a soulful rendering of The Drifters’ “Save the Last Dance for Me,” Lucius felt the distance separating him from Jessica grow so vast he could never reach her. Their time was past. His chance for any dance was gone. The music became a dirge to all that life had refused him. When the applause started, he rose and excused himself and walked outside. The night was cool, the sidewalks filled with lovers and good times. Lucius stayed there until he was certain his emotions were back under control. He waited until the next round of applause, then forced himself to return to his seat. The next song was almost as hard to endure, the Shirelles’ “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.” But Lucius sat there and smiled and clapped with the others. He kept reminding himself that he had handled much worse.
CHAPTER 59
Lucius woke early the next morning, as was normal for him. He had never thought he would be able to apply that word to himself again. Normal. Yet here he was, tracking down the garden walk with some night animal for company, letting himself into a kitchen that was as oversized as the rest of the house, hunting through the cabinets for coffee. He took his mug out to the rear stoop, where a trio of chairs suggested the help used this same space from time to time. He watched the light gather and pondered on the challenge of reinserting himself into Jessica’s life.
The woman’s age cracked his heart. All the years he wished he had been there for her. All the breaths he wished they had been able to share. The sights and sounds of a lifetime of love, never to be theirs. Lucius had all the reasons in a splintered world to mourn. But he still had this. The soft emerald lawn, the chirp of birds, the hope of another day with his beloved.
He was back in the kitchen refilling his mug when his phone rang. So few people had this number, he felt obliged to answer. “Hello?”
“It’s too early. I know that. I should have waited. But I couldn’t.”
“Asha?”
“We need to talk. I’ve been up for hours. Are you awake?”
The words seemed disjointed, as though the thoughts behind them were scarcely strong enough to hold them together. “What’s the matter?”
“So much.” She sniffed noisily. “You told me you were an early riser. I hoped . . .”
“Asha, take a deep breath and steady yourself. I’m here and I’m awake. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“They’re coming after you.”
“Who is?”
“Dino.” Speaking the name was enough to threaten her ability to breathe. Then she managed, “Everybody.”
* * *
When the day staff arrived at nine, Lucius sent word upstairs that they needed to speak. Another thirty minutes passed before Sarah came downstairs and said Jessica would meet him in the conservatory. Twenty minutes later, she wheeled Jessica into the garden room. Sarah hovered by the table until Jessica waved her away. Lucius stood by the rear glass wall until the door clicked shut, then said, “Something is about to happen. I’m sorry. But this can’t wait.”
“All the rooms in this house have microphones that feed into the pantry. Sarah and the night nurse also carry portable monitors.” She gestured back behind them. “There is a switch beneath the light and temperature controls.”
When he returned, Jessica went on, “I met my ex-husband through work. For a time that is all I did. The company was capable of swallowing every hour I had to give, and still remain hungry for more. My accountant introduced me to John Wright. Wright Motors was the largest automotive dealership in Los Angeles and was growing into San Diego. Of course I learned later that John had put my accountant up to the task of playing matchmaker. At the time I saw in John an opportunity to forge a much-needed alliance. He knew everything I didn’t about the automotive business. My one condition, the one item on which I would not budge . . .” She watched him settle back into his chair. “But, of course, you know.”
“Quarterfield Motors,” Lucius said.
“The young man I told you about yesterday left me the company in his will. It was, and remains, a complete astonishment, both that he did so and that I managed to keep things running.”
“You’ve done far more than that,” Lucius replied.
Jessica waved away the compliment. “He had two reasons for doing so. He wanted me taken care of. And he wanted to stay close in the only way he could manage.”
Her matter-of-fact tone again made Lucius wonder if she knew, or at least suspected. All he said was “Was he wrong to do so?”
“Who knows? It was all so long ago. I won’t say learning the necessary lessons was easy. All this money and power reshaped me. At times it was all rather fun. But there were also some rather unpleasant elements, needless to say. My ex-husband assumed wealth granted him the right to do whatever he wanted, with whomever was within reach. John’s dalliances grew to the point that I could no longer pretend at a marriage. Thankfully, a drawn-out court battle was avoided because he had developed a cocaine habit. When I threatened him with the documented evidence my private investigators had uncovered, he caved like the wretch he had become. I let him keep the San Diego dealerships, so long as he vowed never to set foot north of LA ever again.”
Lucius asked, because his heart compelled him, “Did you ever regret loving your young man?”
“What a remarkable question. Life certainly dealt him a lousy hand. He did as well as he possibly could have.” Jessica used her thumb and forefinger to wipe the edges of her mouth. “Shall I tell you what I do regret?”
“Please.”
“When it came to love, he allowed himself to be fashioned by his circumstances.”
Lucius felt his chest compress to where he could scarcely breathe.
Jessica continued to stare through the window. Whatever she saw twisted her features into haggard lines. “He was shaped by isolation. He fed upon his solitude. It suited his nature. I wanted to stay with him, nurse him, be his companion through the few days we might have known together. But he pushed me away. Oh, I’m certain he dressed his actions in some valiant intent to protect me. But he was wrong. Do you hear me? As wrong as wrong could be.”
Lucius opened his mouth, but no sound came.
Jessica pulled herself back from the dark arena with a visible effort. “Never mind all that. What was it you wanted to speak with me about?”
Lucius fumbled his way through the early conversation with Asha. Long before he was done, he sensed Jessica’s discomfort had become transformed into something far more severe. She appeared to have aged ten years since entering the conservatory. Lucius finished, “It’s not that urgent. I can see her the next time I travel down—”
Her arthritic hand scrabbled across the tabletop. “You must call her. This very instant. Tell her to come up.”
“Jessica, really, you’re troubled. Let me ask Sarah—”
> “‘Troubled’? Troubled? Did you actually use that word?”
Lucius was pushed back in his seat by her wrath.
Her eyes flashed with an emerald fire. “In case it has missed your limited powers of observation, you are here to do my bidding. You should be fired for the felonious crime of male blindness! You control nothing. You understand nothing.”
“I’ll call her, Jessica. Don’t let yourself become—”
“Don’t you dare tell me what I can or can’t do.”
He stopped. Took a long breath. And waited. Finally he said, “You’re right.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. I was treating you like an invalid. Which you are not.”
She glared at him. “How am I supposed to argue with you if you insist upon agreeing?”
Lucius said it because he wanted to be certain he had it straight. “You want to see Asha Meisel. Yourself. Not for me.”
She leaned back in her seat, clearly exhausted by her ire. “Be a good lad and go make the call.”
CHAPTER 60
Sarah and the day nurse were stationed in the corridor just outside the conservatory doors. The day Ruth gave him a cursory head-to-toe inspection and declared, “I don’t see anything more serious than a few second-degree burns. You’ll survive.”
Sarah asked, “Does she want anything?”
The day nurse said, “More ammunition, I expect.”
Lucius said, “I think I just discovered why Jessica’s employees all look like frightened rabbits.”
Ruth snorted. “That was nothing. When your wounds are still smoking an hour after she’s done, then you’ve had the full treatment.”
Sarah asked, “Should I go in now?”
Lucius slipped around them. “I need to make a phone call.”
The day nurse said, “I have always found a double brandy helps to reduce the calamity.”
* * *
Asha arrived at the Wright home’s main gates at four fifteen that afternoon. She had been delayed by the need to reschedule a number of appointments. Each phone call had been forced against the fear that she might never be permitted to see her patients again. That ending the romantic liaison with Dino, before it even had a chance to begin, was neither the worst nor the hardest step she would soon be taking. And yet not once in that horrid day did she worry over doing the wrong thing. Not even when she took time out for a call to her mother, and then another with Sonya, and wept her way through both. Not even when she packed her bag and said farewell to her beloved apartment. Not even when she started north, fearful that everything in her rearview mirror was lost to her forever. Not even then.