Heartbeat (17 page)

Adrian hesitated, watching him, he was handing out steaks with a professional air, and chatting with everyone as they came and went, but he seemed to be alone, not that it really mattered. And she realized then that she didn't even know if he had a girlfriend, not that it really made any difference. But somehow she had assumed that he wasn't involved with anyone. He had always seemed so unencumbered. She walked slowly over to him, and his face broke into a broad smile as he saw her. He took it all in, the white lace dress, the shiny dark hair, her big blue eyes, she looked beautiful, and he was thrilled to see her. He felt like a kid, with a crush on a neighborhood girl. You didn't see her for weeks, and then suddenly you turn a corner, and there she is, looking gorgeous and you feel like a fool, stumbling all over yourself, and then she's gone again, and your whole world is over, until you meet again. Lately, he'd been beginning to feel as though his whole life, or the only worthwhile part of it, was just a series of chance meetings.

“Hi, there!” He blushed, and hoped she thought it was the heat of the barbecue. He wasn't sure why, but she was the first married woman he'd ever had a serious crush on. And it wasn't just that he liked looking at her. He liked talking to her too. The worst of it was that he liked everything about her. “Did you bring your friends?”

“They called at the last minute and said they couldn't make it.” She told the lie with ease, and looked up at him happily as he watched her.

“I'm glad … I mean …yeah, actually, I am glad.” And then he pointed to the meat he was cooking. “What can I do for you? Hot dog, hamburger, steak? I recommend the steaks myself.” He tried to cover what he felt with ordinary pastimes, like cooking dinner. He really did feel like a kid every time he saw her. But so did she. And the funny thing was, all she wanted to do was talk to him. He was always so easy to be with and to talk to.

She had been dying for a hamburger a few minutes ago, but suddenly the steaks looked terrific. “I'll have a steak please. Rare.”

“Coming right up. There's lots of other stuff over there on the table. Fourteen different kinds of salad, some kind of cold soufflé, cheese, Nova Scotia salmon, I don't do anything with that stuff. I'm the barbecue specialist, but go take a look and by the time you get back, I'll have your steak for you.” She did, and he noticed that she had piled her plate with the salads and shrimp and other things she had found at the buffet table. She had a healthy appetite, which was surprising, given how thin she was. She was obviously very athletic.

He put the steak on her plate, offered her some wine, which she declined, and she went to sit near the pool, and he hoped she'd still be there by the time he finished cooking. It was half an hour later when he finally decided he'd done his bit, everyone had been served, and most of the guests had had seconds. Another man, from a condo near his, offered to take over for him, and Bill gladly accepted and went to find Adrian, happily polishing off dessert, as she sat quietly by herself, listening to the people chatting around her.

“How was it? It couldn't have been too bad.” The steak had disappeared, along with everything else she'd had on her plate. She looked embarrassed and laughed self-consciously.

“It was delicious. And I was starving.”

“Good. I hate to cook for people who don't eat. Do you like to cook?” He was curious about her, what she was like, what she did, how happy she was with her husband. It shouldn't have mattered to him, but it did.He could hear alarm bells go off in his head, and he was telling himself to stop, but another, stronger, voice told him not to.

“Sometimes. I'm not very good. I don't have much time to cook.” And no one to cook for. Now, at least. But Steven wasn't much of an eater anyway. He had always preferred just making a salad.

“Not if you do both shows on the evening news. Do you come home between shows?” He wanted to know everything about her.

“Most of the time. Unless there's something really dramatic going on and I can't get out between shows. But generally I come home around seven and go back around ten or ten-thirty. Then I'm home again around midnight.”

“I know.” He smiled. That was usually when they ran into each other in the Safeway.

“You must keep pretty long hours too.” She smiled. She was toying with the apple pie on her plate, embarrassed to devour it while he watched her.

“I do. Some nights I just sleep on the couch at the office.” It made him great company, as any number of women would have been happy to tell her. “Our scripts change so fast sometimes, it shifts everyone's position in the show. It's kind of a ripple effect, and sometimes it's difficult to keep up with. But it's fun too. You ought to see the show sometime.” It sounded like fun to her and they talked about the show for a while, how it had started in New York ten years ago, and eventually he had moved it to California. “The hardest thing about coming out here was leaving my boys,” he said quietly. “They're such great kids. And I really miss them.” He had talked about them before, but there was still a lot about them she didn't know, just as there was about their father.

“Do you see them much?”

“Not as much as I'd like to. They come out for school vacations through the year, and for about a month in the summer. They'll be here in two weeks.” His whole face lit up as he said it, and it touched her to see it.

“What do you do with them when they're here?” Working the way he did, taking care of two young children couldn't be easy.

“I work like a fiend before they come, and then I take four weeks off. I go in once in a while just to keep an eye on things, but basically, much as I hate to admit it, the show does fine without me.” He smiled almost sheepishly over the admission. “We go on a two-week camping trip, and we hang around here for about two weeks. And they love it. I could do without the camping trip. My idea of camping is a week at the Bel-Air Hotel. But it means a lot to them and they love getting grubby and uncomfortable and sleeping in the woods. Actually, we do that for about a week, and we stay at a hotel somewhere for the other week. Like the Ahwahnee in Yosemite, or we go up to Lake Tahoe. A week is about all I can handle in a tent and a sleeping bag, but it's good for us. It keeps me humble.” He laughed, and Adrian finished her apple pie as she listened. They were nervous with each other this time, but it wasn't so much nervous as a kind of excitement. This was the first time they had been together, intentionally, in a social setting.

“How old are they?”

“Seven and ten. They're great kids. You'll see them here at the pool. They think California is all about swimming pools. It's a lot different than Great Neck, outside New York, where they live with their mother.”

“Do they look like you?” Adrian asked with a smile, she could imagine him with two little teddy bear clones, just like him.

“I'm not sure. People say that the little guy does, but I think they both look like their mother.” And then, nostalgically, “We had Adam right away. And it was rough. Leslie had to stop dancing, my wife was a dancer on Broadway then. And I was really struggling. There were times when I really thought we'd starve, but we never did. And the baby was the best thing that ever happened to us. I think that's one of the few things we still agree on. Adam and the show happened at about the same time. I always felt that it was providence sending us what we needed for him, and for us. The show has been good to me for a long time.” He looked appreciative as he talked about it, as though he didn't really deserve it but had been very lucky, and he knew it. And it struck Adrian as she listened to him how different he was from Steven. His children meant a lot to him, and he was very modest about his success. The two men had very little in common. “What about you?” he asked her then. “Do you think you'll stay with the news?”

“I don't know.” She had wondered about that, too, and maybe when she took her maternity leave, she would have time to think about what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, other than being a mother.

“I think about starting another show sometimes. But I never seem to have time to think about it, let alone do it.
A Life
is still a full-time commitment.”

“Where do you get the ideas for it?” she asked, sipping at a glass of lemonade someone had poured her.

“God knows.” He smiled. “Real life, my head. Anything that comes to mind and seems to fit. It's all about the kinds of things that happen in people's lives, all poured into one pot and stirred around. People do the damnedest things, and get into the most incredible situations.” She nodded pensively. She knew exactly what he meant, and he was watching her expression. And when she looked up again, her eyes met his, and she looked as though she was about to say something, but she didn't.

The crowd was thinning by then, and people had come over to thank him several times. He seemed to know everyone, and he was always friendly and pleasant. She liked being with him and was surprised by how comfortable she was with him. She could imagine herself telling him almost anything. Almost. Except maybe about Steven. In some ways, she felt like a failure because he had left her.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked. He had been nursing the same glass of wine all night, and when she declined, he set it down, and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I don't drink very much,” he explained. “If I do, I can't work all night.”

“Neither can I.” She smiled. There were several young couples sitting nearby, talking and laughing and holding hands, and she felt lonely as she watched them. It suddenly brought it home to her that she was alone again. After building her relationship with Steven for the last five years, she was alone, and there was no one to hold her and love her.

“So when is your husband coming back?” he said easily, almost sorry that he was. He was a lucky guy, and Bill still wished that Adrian wasn't married.

“Next week,” she said noncommittally.

“And where is he again?”

“New York,” she answered quickly, and suddenly something struck Bill as she said it.

He looked at her quizzically. “I thought you said he was in Chicago.” He looked puzzled, and then backed off when he saw the look of panic on her face. Something had upset her terribly and he wasn't sure what it was, as she quickly changed the subject.

“This was a great idea,” she said as she stood up, looking around nervously. “I had a wonderful time.” She was leaving and he was desolate. He had frightened her off and he didn't want her to go. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, wanting to do anything to make her stay near him.

“Please don't go, Adrian …it's such a nice night, and it's so good being here, just talking to you.” He looked very young and very vulnerable and it touched her heart the way he said it.

“I just thought …maybe …you had other plans … I didn't want to bore you …” She looked uncomfortable, but he still didn't know why, as she sat down again and he kept her hand in his own, wondering what he was doing. She was married, and he didn't need the heartbreak.

“You don't bore me. You're wonderful, and I'm having a terrific time. Tell me about you. What do you like to do? What's your favorite sport? What kind of music do you like?”

She laughed. No one had asked her that in years, but it was fun talking to him, as long as he didn't press her about Steven. “I like everything …classical …jazz …rock …country … I love Sting, the Beatles, U2, Mozart. I used to ski a lot when I was growing up, but I haven't in years. I love the beach …and hot chocolate …and dogs …” She laughed suddenly. “And red hair, I've always wanted red hair,” and then suddenly she looked wistful. “And babies. I've always liked babies.”

“So have I.” He smiled at her, wishing that he could spend a lifetime with her instead of just an evening. “My boys were so cute when they were babies. I left when Tommy wasn't even a year old. It almost killed me.” And there was the memory of real pain in his eyes as he said it. “I'd like you to meet them when they come out in a couple of weeks. Maybe we could all spend an evening together.” He knew that if he and Adrian were going to be friends, he was going to have to make friends with her husband. It was the only relationship available to them, and he was willing to do that just to get to know her. And maybe her husband was nicer than he looked, although Bill considered it unlikely.

“I'd love to meet them sometime. When do you go on your camping trip?”

“In about two weeks.” He smiled. “Actually, we're driving up to Lake Tahoe, via Santa Barbara, San Francisco, and the Napa Valley. Then we'll camp for five days when we get there.”

“It sounds like a very civilized trip.” She had expected something a lot more rugged.

“I have to do it that way. Too much fresh air comes as a shock to my system.”

“Do you play tennis?” she asked hesitantly. It wasn't that she was comparing them, but she was curious. With Steven, it was almost a fixation.

“If you can call it that,” he apologized. “I'm not very good.”

“Neither am I.” She laughed, longing for another piece of apple pie, but she didn't dare go and get it. He was going to think she was a real pig if she ate any more, but the whole dinner had been delicious. The “cleaning-up” crew was putting things away, and it had grown dark as they sat by the pool. The crowd had thinned out even more, but she was enjoying his company and she hated to leave, although she was beginning to think that she should. And then suddenly, high in the sky, the fireworks began. They were being set off in a park nearby and they were beautiful as everyone stopped and watched, and Adrian watched, too, like a delighted child, as Bill smiled at her. She was so beautiful, and so warm and so gentle. She looked like a little girl with her face turned up to the sky, but a very pretty one, and he had an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He had had that urge before, but it was becoming more acute each time he saw her.

The show went on for half an hour and exploded finally with a wild shower of red, white, and blue that went on and on and on, seemingly forever. And then the sky went dark again, with only the stars high above, and the black powder left from the fireworks and the little wisps of smoke falling slowly to earth, as Bill sat close to her and caught a whiff of her perfume. It was Chanel No. 19 and he liked it.