by Lucy Gordon
He was smiling, almost clowning again, declaring the subject closed. She matched his smile with her own, and the dangerous moment passed. As soon as she could she took the tea he made her, bade him good-night and went to her room. Luckily Josie was asleep, and she was free to lie silently in bed, aching with longing and sadness. She would have been a fool to yield to Luke and her own heart, but as she stared into the darkness she was calling herself all kinds of a fool for not being a fool.
Luke didn't go to bed. He did what he often did, went to lie stretched out on the sofa, watching the darkness. Sometimes he would stay there all night, waiting for the first touch of gray in the sky, the first glint on the sea. And it was here that he embarked on the process that passed, with him, for thinking.
It had alarmed and disconcerted him to discover that he wanted Pippa as much as he ever had. This had simply never happened before. "There's nothing so dead as a dead love," ran the saying, and while he had sometimes returned to the bed of a previous lover, it had always been an exercise in nostalgia. What he felt now wasn't nostalgia but the sharp edge of desire. As badly as he'd ever wanted anything in his life he wanted to take Pippa to his room, undress her and himself and make love to her until they were both exhausted. And then he wanted to make love to her again.
He remembered some of the little teasing enticements she'd known by instinct and used without mercy. How he'd loved them then and how he ached for them now. He smiled, but in the same moment his body began to respond to the memories, and he forced himself to suppress them. A man couldn't afford to think like that about a woman who'd rejected him. It made life too difficult.
Pippa had rejected him.
But this was a new and unknown woman whose mystery still held promise.
Not the Pippa of the past, but a different person, part known, part stranger, wholly tantalizing. Young Pippa had been joined by grown-up Pippa, sensible Pippa and even sad Pippa. He didn't know what had made him think of that, but he saw her in his mind, looking pensive, as though she concealed some inner pain. And now he realized how often her face wore that look.
He dozed for a while, was awakened by a noise from the kitchen and went to investigate.
"It's only me, Daddy. I'm getting some milk."
"It's four in the morning. You ought to be out like a light after the day you had. Want something to eat?"
"Ice cream?"
"God bless your stomach!" Luke said fervently. "Ice cream, after candy floss, toffee apple-here."
"Thanks."
He sat on the bar stool and watched her eat. "What's it like living in the guest house, Josie?"
"Nice. Mommy said you used to live there with her."
"Yes, but that was a while back. I expect it's changed."
"It's been done up. It's all bright and cheerful now. Would you like to see? I've got some pictures. Hang on."
She slid quietly back up to the bedroom and returned a moment later with a wad of pictures.
"Mommy brought some, too," she said, climbing back onto the stool, "but I don't know where hers are."
Luke studied the house, which had indeed been transformed, especially the kitchen. Ma's kitchen, he recalled, had been fit only for a museum.
"Who's that?" he asked suddenly, pointing to a man standing with Pippa. They were raising their glasses to each other.
"That's Derek. He's in love with Mommy. He keeps giving her roses. Look, you can see them just behind Mommy's shoulder."
Peering closely, Luke made out a bunch of vivid red roses. He said nothing.
"And this one's Mark," Josie said, pressing another photograph in his hand. "He tests cars for a manufacturer, and he does some racing, only Formula Three, though. He takes Mommy out sometimes and drives her really fast. She likes it. She says it's exciting. Funny."
"Why is it funny?"
"Well, she's Mommy. Somehow you don't think of your mother finding things exciting."
"She wasn't always your mother. When I knew her she found everything exciting."
"What was she like then?"
"Fun," he said with a little smile. "She wore these crazy clothes, orange jeans and purple cowboy boots."
"Mom?" Josie said sceptically. "Sure you haven't confused her with another girlfriend?"
"Watch it, smarty! Anyway, I didn't have any other girlfriends when I was with her. Somehow, when Pippa was around you never saw anyone else. She just lit up the sky and made all the world as crazy and wonderful as she was."
He saw Josie's puzzled look and realized that his words made no sense to her. She couldn't relate them to her mother.
"She certainly seems cheerful enough in this one,'' he said, returning to the photos.
Pippa was sitting in an open-topped car, her hair windblown, her face smiling. Beside her sat a man Luke supposed women would have called handsome. He didn't know. There was no accounting for tastes. He handed the picture back.
"And how does Mommy feel?" he asked. "Does she have any special friends?"
"You mean, anyone who stays all night in her room?'' Josie asked wisely.
He felt himself reddening. "Urn…yes, I suppose I mean that."
"Don't think so. I never hear any moaning and groaning."
"What…what do you know about moaning and groaning?" he demanded, aghast.
"We had a honeymoon couple once, and they-''
"Yes, all right," he said hastily, adding in a mutter, "Good grief, if I'd said anything like that to my mother she'd have fainted."
"It's a new generation, Dad. Things have changed since your day."
"Get back to bed. You're making me feel ancient."
"Well, face it, Dad. You were born in the last century."
He was definitely slipping. She'd vanished before he thought to say, "So were you!"
When she'd gone he looked at the photos again, wishing the man in the car hadn't been so good-looking, and wondering if he had anything to do with Pippa's rejection of himself. He returned to the front room and sat in darkness, looking out over the sea, trying to shake off a gnawing sadness. It was a feeling he never wasted much time on. If something made him sad, he turned his thoughts in a different direction. But it wasn't so easy this time, and he, the least analytical of men, was being forced to analyze.
It had to do with Josie's bewilderment as he described the young Pippa. To her it had simply been gibberish. She was ten, an age when people stayed in their pigeonholes, and Pippa's pigeonhole was "Mom," a sedate woman with headaches and asthma, who told her when to go to bed and often said no. Luke's memories of the bright, beautiful peacock who laughed and squabbled and lived only for the moment when she could fly into his arms would have no meaning for her.
That young girl was fast slipping away. Pippa herself didn't seem to remember much about her. It was only in his own heart that she still lived, flaming with joy and life and making the world a thrilling place.
But he, too, had changed. What had he said on the boat that afternoon? That their blazing sexual harmony had mattered less, in the long term, than the fact that their minds were in tune. He, Luke Dan-ton, superstud extraordinary, had actually said that.
And meant it. Scary!
It was the sort of thing boring Frank might have said, and that alarmed Luke more than anything. It meant he was growing old.
Or up?
He rubbed his eyes, wishing he hadn't start thinking. It made him feel like a bear fending off a swarm of bees, and gave him a headache.
The program went on at eight o'clock in the evening. By five the entire family was in place, consisting of Mom, Pop, Zak and his girlfriend, Becky and her boyfriend. Half an hour later Claudia arrived bearing vintage champagne, and the party was complete.
Luke had outdone himself with supper, preparing one main course and a host of small savories that could be eaten at any time. Josie, who liked nothing better than to be her father's assistant, scurried about performing her tasks efficiently and glowing when she won a word of praise from the boss.
Luke smiled at Pippa, but he didn't ask her to help. She wondered if this was because he was at ease with his daughter in his kitchen as he was with nobody else. Or was he keeping a distance because of last night? It was hard to tell because his manner was friendly, if preoccupied.
By 7:45 the curtains were drawn over the picture window, the VCR was set to record, and everyone was settled in the main room. With a flourish Luke switched on the television, and they sat in an agony of impatience while the last program finished and the ads dragged by.
"This is it," Luke declared confidently.
But another advertisement came on, and everybody booed. Then the program started, and they all sat in awed silence, the only sound being a long, ecstatic sigh from Josie. When it was over they applauded, and Luke ceremonially presented his daughter with the video.
"I'll have it copied to the European video system before you leave," he said. "But this one's in case you wanted to see it again before then."
"Leave!" Mom said, outraged. "What's this talk of leaving?"
"We're only here for a week," Pippa explained, "and it'll soon be over."
There was a general outcry. She coped with it as best she could, but as soon as possible she escaped into the kitchen. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she felt faint.
Claudia found her there a few moments later. "Are you all right?" she asked solicitously.
"Yes, fine. Just a touch of asthma, it gets me sometimes. I was a bit nervous about coming to Los Angeles-everyone's heard of the smog."
"Sure. Although this part of L.A. is one of the cleanest. Very little air pollution around here."
"Well, I guess I'm just unusually susceptible." Pippa smiled valiantly. "Let's go back to the others."
Pippa could recall vacations as a child when the week ahead had seemed to stretch to infinity and had gone on doing so until the halfway mark. But once that was passed every day sped by like lightning.
Now it was the same. After the night of the program the few remaining days blurred into each other, and only odd moments stood out: Josie and Luke investigating the Web site that was deluged with complimentary e-mails following the broadcast; Josie being swept off to Disneyland again by Luke's parents. She'd stayed at home resting that morning, joining Luke at his first restaurant for lunch. He'd dined her royally, given her the grand tour of the kitchens and attended to her comfort and pleasure. But there was a shadow in his manner that hadn't been there before, and her heart sank as she understood. He had accepted her decision and would let her go with only a little regret. It was Josie he would keep in touch with, Josie he would visit and invite to visit him. And that was how she had wanted it.
The other moment that lived in her memory was a late afternoon, when she'd gone out onto the balcony to watch for Luke and Josie, who were out in the water, enjoying a final romp before the day ended. The sun was setting, casting a flood of gold over the sea and the sand, throwing the figures into silhouette. There was Luke, in the water up to his waist. As Pippa watched, he ducked down far enough for Josie to clamber onto his shoulders. Reaching over his head and behind he grasped her by the hips and raised her high, while she stretched out her arms and her legs, as though flying. He began to turn around and around. Josie's head was back, and even from this distance Pippa could see that she was ecstatic.
Then the whole thing collapsed. Luke took a big jump and tossed Josie forward so that she landed in the water at the same time as he crashed back into it himself. For a moment they were drowned in spray. Then they both came up, laughing-no, Pippa amended…giggling. Both of them. A pair of mad things, as her mother used to say.
That's just how a father and daughter ought to be, she thought. A pair of mad things. Happy just to be together. And in the years ahead-
Suddenly she felt as though she'd crashed against a wall made of black ice-the years ahead-which she would probably know nothing about. And with a passionate intensity that was painful, she wished she could be there for them. She wanted to see Luke at his daughter's graduation, proud to bursting. She wanted to see him take her up the aisle on his arm and wipe his eyes as another man led her away.
She wanted the funny things, too: Luke, outside a maternity ward muttering, "I'm a grandfather. She can't do this to me!" But then being struck dumb at the sight of the little scrap, and perhaps calling it Josie by mistake, because that was when he would really care about the years he'd missed.
It would happen. Whatever the big occasions of
Josie's life, Luke would be there. She had made sure of that. But she might never know. And suddenly the scene blurred. She couldn't see anymore. Turning, she blundered back inside.
Luke and Josie returned to find the house empty. She'd gone for a walk, she told them when she returned. Just a walk, and she was fine. No, honestly. Fine.
The last two days, the last day, the last hours on the beach with Luke and his mom and dad and Zak and Claudia. Nobody wanted to be left out. Pippa couldn't remember when she'd last been so totally surrounded by kindness and affection.
Several times she surprised a puzzled look in Josie's eyes, and once the child said, "Mommy, are you and Daddy going to get back together?''
"No, darling."
"But you love each other."
"We're very fond of each other, but only as friends now."
"But-"
"Darling, leave it there, please. And don't say anything to Daddy. One day you'll understand."
And Josie had come as close as she ever had to sulking. "I hate it when you say that."
That brief conversation had been more of a strain on Pippa than she wanted to admit. She knew that from now on-whatever happened-she could be sure Luke would insist on being Josie's father. But nothing else had gone according to plan. She'd meant to establish friendly relations with Luke, but not to let herself fall in love with him again. Now she saw how unrealistic that had been. After all this time, she still couldn't be near him without her heart warming to him, and she ought to have known that, she thought ruefully.
She'd come to the brink of falling in love with him again, but only the brink, she assured herself. There was still time to recover, when there was a safe distance between them. But what really troubled her was the fact that she still hadn't told him the real reason she'd come here. She'd always imagined that the chance would present itself and she would seize it.
But somehow the time had never quite been right, and now it was the last day, the last few moments. "Have we got all your bags, Pippa? What about that one?" Packing the last few things away, a tight fit. A look around the kitchen, imprinting it on her memory. Luke, watching her, half smiling, half baffled, almost the same frown in his eyes as in Josie's.
They went to the airport in procession. Claudia drove the first car, with Luke and Pippa and Zak. His mom, dad and Becky brought up the rear with Josie, all caroling songs at the top of their voices.
"You've got a bit of time," Dad announced once Pippa had checked in and seen the bags on their way. "How about a chocolate sundae?"
"Please, Mommy," Josie begged, seeing caution on her mother's face.
Zak put his hand on her shoulder. "C'mon, little one."
Here was her moment alone with Luke, and now she wished she'd never had it. For she'd been through this before, the last few minutes before departure, telling herself to keep a stiff upper lip just a little longer, not to let him suspect that her heart was breaking. That time he'd been the one going away.
"Well," she said brightly, "this is it."
"Yes, I guess it-" Suddenly Luke grasped her arm. "Gome with me," he said firmly. "We have to talk."
He drew her firmly around a corner so that they were out of sight of the others. "This is all wrong," he said. "I can't let it happen."
"Luke-what?"
"You can't go. I won't let you. No, listen-" he interrupted her before she could say a word. "Don't you see, this is what happened before-when I left England? And I shouldn't have gone. I was crazy ab
out you, and I walked away from it, but I shouldn't have. Pippa, didn't you feel that at the time? I can't believe you didn't."
"I-you-it was your decision to go. You didn't have to."
"I know. My decision. But it was the wrong one, for both of us. It wouldn't have taken much to make me stay. But you were so matter-of-fact, joking about me flirting with other women on the plane. I couldn't tell what you felt, if anything. We'd been so much to each other, and you waved me off with a laugh."
She could only stare at him, dumbstruck.
"Pippa, I never told you this, but when I reached the departure lounge I came to a dead halt. My feet wouldn't go any farther. I didn't want to get on that plane."
"You didn't?"
"It was wrong for me to go then, and it's wrong for you to go now. I won't let you go, Pippa. It's no use arguing. No!" He slapped his forehead. "No, that's all wrong. I'm making a mess of this." He was talking very fast. "I just want you to stay for another week-or two-so that I can persuade you. Yes, that's better. Persuade. That's what I should have said to start with."
"You're babbling."
"Am I? Yes, I am. You know why? Because if I stop talking you'll give me an answer and I'm afraid of it. Just another two weeks-or three-''
"But-"
"You can't go like this. It's too soon. Josie doesn't want to go. She wants to stay here and move into Disneyland with Dad. I don't want you to go. Mom and Dad don't want you to go. Pippa, please say you don't want to go."
"Luke-"
"No, wait a minute, don't rush to answer. Stop and think about it. If you just stay a little longer, three weeks-or maybe four-"
She couldn't speak for happiness. This was what she had dreamed of years ago, Luke begging, pleading with her to stay with him. It had happened at last. But it was all wrong. It had come too late, and now she must tell him what she'd ducked out of telling him before.
"Darling-"
"Say it again. Let me hear you call me darling."
"Darling Luke, please-there's something I-"
"Just one more week, Pippa, and I swear I won't ask for more-well, maybe two. We have so much to talk about, and it can't be done at a distance."