Full Circle (20 page)

But it was Tana his eyes were rivetted to, his heart leapt with pride for her and then sank as he thought of their going separate ways. He knew that inevitably their paths would cross again. He would see to that. But for her, it was still too soon. And with all his heart, he wished her godspeed and, that she would be safe and well in California. It made him nervous to think of her so far from him. But he had to let her go for now … for now … tears filled his eyes as he watched her come down the steps with her diploma in hand. She looked so fresh and young, the big green eyes, the bright shining hair … and the lips he so desperately longed to kiss and had for almost four years … the same lips brushed his cheek as he congratulated her again, and for an instant, just an instant, he felt her hold him close, and it almost took his breath away.

“Thanks, Harry.” There were tears in her eyes.

“What for?” He had to fight back tears of his own.

“For everything.” And then the others pressed in on them and the moment was gone. Their separate lives had begun and Harry almost felt her physically torn from him.

T
he ride to the airport seemed endless this time. Tana took a cab, and Jean insisted on coming with her. There were endless silences, pauses, staccato bursts of words, like machine gun fire at the enemy as it disappeared into the brush, and then finally they were there. Jean insisted on paying for the cab, as though it were her last chance to do something for her little girl, the only chance she'd ever have, and it was easy to see she was fighting back tears as they checked Tana's bags in.

“That's all you had, dear?” She turned to Tana nervously, as Tana nodded and smiled. It had been a difficult morning for her too. There was no pretending anymore. She wouldn't be coming home again, not for a long, long time. For a few days, a week, a brief trip. But if she managed to hang in at Boalt, she would probably never live at home again. She hadn't had to face that before when she went to Green Hill, or BU, and she was ready to go now. But it was easy to see the panic on Jean's face. It was the same expression she had worn twenty-three years before when Andy Roberts had gone to war. That look that comes of knowing that nothing will ever be the same again. “You won't forget to call me tonight, will you, dear?”

“No, Mother, I won't. But I can't promise after this.” Tana smiled. “If everything I hear is true, I won't come up for air for the next six months.” And she had already warned her that she wouldn't be coming home for Christmas that year. The trip was too expensive anyway. And Jean had resigned herself to that. She was hoping that Arthur might give her a ticket out, but then there would be no hope of spending Christmas with him. Life wasn't easy sometimes. For some, it never was.

They both had a cup of tea, and watched the planes take off as Tana waited for her plane to be called, and she saw her mother staring at her more than once. Twenty-two years of caring for her were officially coming to an end, and it was difficult for both of them. And then suddenly Jean took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Is this what you really want, Tan?”

Tana answered her quietly. “Yes, Mom, it is.”

“You're sure?”

Tana smiled. “I am. I know it seems strange to you, but it really is what I want. I've never been so sure of anything, no matter how hard it is.”

Jean frowned and slowly shook her head before looking at Tana again. It was a strange time to be talking about it, just before she took off, and a strange place, with thousands of people all around, but this was where they were and what was in Jean's heart as she looked into her daughter's eyes again. “It seems more like a career for a man. I just never thought.…”

“I know.” Tana looked sad. “You wanted me to be like Ann.” She was living in Greenwich, near her Dad, and had just had her first child. Her husband was a full partner of Sherman and Sterling now. He drove a Porsche, and she a Mercedes sedan. It was every mother's dream. “That just isn't me. It never was, Mom.”

“But why not?” She didn't understand. Maybe she had gone wrong somewhere. Maybe it was her fault. But Tana was shaking her head quietly.

“Maybe I need more than that. Maybe I need it to be my accomplishment, instead of my husband's. I don't know, but I don't think I could be happy like that.”

“I think Harry Winslow is in love with you, Tan.” Her voice was gentle, but Tana didn't want to hear the words.

“You're wrong, Mom.” It was back to that again. “We love each other dearly, as friends, but he's not in love with me, and I'm not in love with him.” That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted him as her brother, her friend. Jean nodded and said nothing as they called Tana's plane. It was as though she were making a last attempt to change Tana's mind, but there was nothing to change it with, no lifestyle, no man, no overwhelming gift, and nothing would have changed it anyway. She looked into her mother's eyes, and then held her close in a long hug as she whispered in her ear. “Mom, this is what I want. I'm sure. I swear it to you.” It was like leaving for Africa as she said goodbye. As though she were leaving for a different world, a different life, and in a way she was. Her mother looked so grief-stricken that it broke her heart, and Jean's tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks as she waved goodbye and Tana boarded the plane, shouting back, “I'll call you tonight!”

“But it'll never be the same again,” Jean whispered to herself, as she watched the doors close, the gangway pull back, and the giant bird head down the runway at last, and finally take off. And then at long, long last, it was only a speck in the sky, and feeling very small and very alone, she went outside, hailed a cab, and went back to the office where Arthur Durning needed her. At least someone still did, but she dreaded going home that night. And for the next years.

T
ana had taken a plane which landed at Oakland airport, and it seemed a small and friendly place when she arrived. Smaller than both Boston and New York, and much, much larger than Yolan, which didn't have an airport at all. She took a cab to the Berkeley campus with her conglomeration of things, checked into the room that had been rented for her as part of her scholarship, unpacked her bags, and looked around. Everything felt different and strange and new. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day, and people looked relaxed in everything from blue jeans to cords to flowing robes. There was more than one caftan in sight, lots of shorts and T-shirts, sandals, sneakers, loafers, bare feet. Unlike Boston University, the Jewish princesses from New York were not in evidence here, wearing expensive wools and cashmeres from Bergdorf's. This was strictly “come as you are,” and it was anything but neat. But there was an excitement about it, too, and she felt exhilarated as she looked around. It was an exhilaration which stayed with her once classes began, and into the next month, as she ran from one class to the other every day, and then dashed home to study all afternoon and all night. The only other place she ever saw was the library, and whenever possible she ate in her room or on the run. She had lost six pounds which she didn't need to lose by the end of the first month. And the only good thing about the schedule she kept was that she didn't miss Harry quite as much as she had feared she would. For three years, they had been almost joined at the hip, even though they attended different schools, and now suddenly he wasn't there, although he would call her at off-hours. And on October fifth, she was in her room, when someone knocked on her door and told her that there was a call on the pay phone for her. She figured it was her mother again, and she really didn't want to go downstairs. She had a quiz the next day on contract law, and she had a paper due in another course.

“Find out who it is. Can I call back?”

“Okay, just a sec.” And then she came back again. “It's from New York.”

Her mother again. “I'll call back.”

“He says you can't.” He? Harry? Tana smiled. For him, she would even interrupt her work.

“I'll be right out.” She grabbed a pair of rumpled jeans off the back of a chair, and pulled them on as she ran to the phone. “Hello?”

“What the hell are you doing? Making it with some guy on the fourteenth floor? I've been sitting here for an hour, Tan.” He sounded annoyed and he also sounded drunk, to her practiced ear. She knew him well.

“I'm sorry, I was in my room, studying, and I thought it was my Mom.”

“No such luck.” He sounded strangely serious.

“Are you in New York?” She was smiling, happy to hear from him again.

“Yeah.”

“I thought you weren't coming back till next month.”

“I wasn't. I came back to see my uncle. Apparently, he thinks he needs my help.”

“What uncle?” Tana looked confused. Harry had never mentioned an uncle before.

“My Uncle Sam. Remember him, the guy on the posters in the ridiculous red and blue suit with the long white beard?” He was definitely drunk and she started to laugh, but the laughter faded on her lips. He was serious.
Oh, my God.…

“What the hell do you mean?”

“I got drafted, Tan.”

“Oh, shit.” She closed her eyes. That was all they heard about. Vietnam … Vietnam … Vietnam … everyone had something to say about it… kick the shit out of them … stay out of it… remember what happened to the French … go to it … stay home … police action … war … it was impossible to know what was going on, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. “Why the hell did you come back? Why didn't you stay over there?”

“I didn't want to do that. My father even offered to buy me out if he could, which I doubt. There are some things which even his Winslow money won't buy. But that's not my style, Tan. I don't know, maybe secretly I've wanted to go over there and make myself useful for a while.”

“You're nuts. My God.… You're worse than that. You could be killed. Don't you realize that? Harry, go back to France.” She was shouting at him now, standing in an open corridor, shouting at Harry in New York. “Why the hell don't you go to Canada, or shoot yourself in the foot … do something, resist the draft. This is 1964, not 1941. Don't be so noble, there's nothing to be noble about, asshole. Go back.” There were suddenly tears in her eyes and she was afraid to ask what she wanted to know. But she had to. She had to know. “Where are they sending you?”

“San Francisco.” Her heart soared. “First. For about five hours. Want to meet me at the airport, Tan? We could have lunch or something. I have to go to some place called Fort Ord by ten o'clock that night, and I arrive at three. And somebody told me it was about a two-hour drive from San Francisco.…” His voice trailed
off,
they were both thinking the same thing.

“And then what?” Her voice was suddenly hoarse.

“Vietnam, I guess. Cute, huh?”

She suddenly sounded pissed. “No, not cute, you dumb son of a bitch. You should have come to law school with me. Instead, you wanted to play and get yourself laid in every whorehouse in France, and now look at you, you're going to Vietnam to get your balls shot off.…” There were tears rolling down her face, and no one dared walk past her in the hall.

“You make it sound intriguing, anyway.”

“You're a jerk.”

“So what else is new? You fallen in love yet?”