Season of Passion (6 page)

Why not?

Because you're a meanie, that's why! But his arm went around her waist, and for a moment they stayed there, he in his chair and she standing next to him. This time she moved away first.

I'll go get the stuff. There was smoke in her voice, and they still had the day ahead of them.

Want me to help?

Okay. You can carry the picnic basket. He wheeled himself to the car as she walked along slowly beside him in the sunshine. They chatted, and he told her what he'd been doing, about the drawings, about a new game she'd brought him the week before, about a nurse he hated at the main house, and the best dinner I've ever had, while Kate listened as though it were all true, as though it mattered.

When they got to the car, she lifted the picnic basket carefully onto his lap, and reached in beside it for a red- and white-striped package tied with a big bow.

For you, my love. She closed the car, and pushed him slowly back up the walk.

Hurry up!

We have a problem? She'd need Mr. Erhard for that. Tom was far too heavy for her to cope with when he needed to relieve himself.

No, dummy, I want to open my present! He was holding it close, and Kid already dug a hand into the picnic basket and come up with a handful of cherries and a little tiny piece of the cake.

Stay out of that, Tom Harper, or I'll--

No, you won't, Katie, you love me too much.

You're right. They both smiled then, and Kate settled him under a tree outside his cottage. The grounds were fresh and bright In time he might tire of them. But not yet.

Can I open it now? He looked at her for approval and she nodded, as he quickly tore off the paper. It had been a foolish thing to buy him, but she hadn't been able to resist when she'd seen it. And she'd bought one for the baby's room too. Oh, I love him! What's his name? Tom held the big brown bear close, and squeezed it tight. Kate was surprised and pleased at his instant delight.

I don't know his name. You tell me. I think he looks like a George myself.

Yeah. Maybe. Tom looked him over thoughtfully.

Lucius? Kate was smiling again. She was glad she'd bought it for him after all. So what if it was silly? What difference did that make now, if it made him happy?

Not Lucius, that's horrible. I know! Willie!

Willie?

Willie! He leaned over with his arms held out and Kate gave him a hug, and a little kiss on the forehead. Thank you, Katie, he's beautiful.

He looks like you.

He swatted her with the bear then and they both laughed.

Want to sit in your hammock? I'll get Mr. Erhard if you want.

No, this is nice. He was already elbow deep in the picnic basket and he stayed that way for the next half hour, with Willie sitting contentedly on his lap.

They rested quietly for a while after lunch, and Kate almost fell asleep in the warm summer air. There was the tiniest breeze ruffling her hair as she lay near Tom's wheelchair, and the baby was finally still for the first time all day. They passed the basket of cherries back and forth, shooting pits at the trees and then laughing.

'One day there will be a whole field of cherry trees here and no one will know why.

We will. Right, Katie?

Right.

His voice was so soft, almost wistful, that she thought he must know. But what was the point of his knowing? It was the one tiling that always stopped her from trying to jolt him into remembering. If he ever returned to what he had been, he would have to stand trial for assault or attempted murder or whatever they decided to call it. He was better off in Mead Home, the way he was, than in a different kind of prison. There was no way to jolt him back anyway. The doctor had explained it to her often enough. But the temptation was always there. Sometimes, just for a second, he sounded so much like himself, like the old Tom, that it was hard to believe the bullet had destroyed as much as the doctors said it had. It had been hard to give up hope, to stop trying.

Katie?

Hm? She looked up at him, a twig of cherries still in her hand; she had forgotten them for a moment.

What were you thinking?

Oh nothing much. Just lying here, feeling lazy.

You look pretty when you think. And then his eyes slid politely to her belly. He was sorry she was so fat, but it didn't matter much. He loved her, no matter what.

Thank you, Tom. She poured him a glass of lemonade, and lay back on the grass. There was a tall tree overhead, shading them from the bright sun, and in the air the wonderful stillness of a summer afternoon. The only thing missing was the squeaking of a screen door, somewhere in the distance, and then the banging of it as a child went in for a glass of cold water. It's pretty here, isn't it? He nodded happily in answer and shot another cherry pit in the direction of the cottage.

I need a slingshot.

My eye you do.

Not to hurt anyone with he looked offended just for things like cherry pits. Or paper clips. You know to shoot at trees. But he was grinning again, the irrepressible, mischievous grin.

How do you even know about those things anyway? They went out of style years ago.

I saw one on TV.

The drive home seemed longer than it ever had before. She kept seeing Tom with the teddy bear, and thinking of things he had said. She finally forced the visit from her mind, and flicked on the radio. She had cramps in her legs, and suddenly all she wanted was to get home. It had been too long a day, and she had that desperate feeling of exhaustion that swept up on her so quickly now, as though she hadn't the strength for another step. Maybe Mr. Erhard was right. Maybe she should stop coming for the next few weeks. It was only going to be three more weeks till the baby came. She didn't even let herself think of that though. Not the baby, not Tom. All she could think of was her bed, and getting out of the clothes that seemed to be strangling her whole body. It seemed a thousand years later when she finally pulled into her own driveway. She was so tired she didn't even see the little red Alfa Romeo parked at the side of the house. She just slipped out of the car, stood next to it for a minute, steadying herself and rubbing her calves, and then began to walk slowly and stiffly toward the front door.

You look like you're in great shape. It was the deep, cynical voice of Felicia Norman, and Kate jumped a foot. Hey, lady, take it easy. I'm a miserable midwife. And then Kate looked up and laughed.

You scared the hell out of me, Licia.

I'm surprised you've got enough energy left to be scared. What do you think you're doing to yourself? She took the basket out of her friend's hand and they walked slowly toward the house.

Never mind that. What are you doing down here early?

I decided I needed a vacation and you needed a guest.

A vacation?

Well, a long weekend. I took four days. And she was glad she had come. Kate looked wiped out, and if that was what going up to see Tom did to her, maybe she could stop her from going for a while, or at least drive her up there. But this was lunacy.

Do you realize what a miracle it is that you haven't been fired yet, thanks to me? But Kate was grinning. It was so good to see her.

They're just goddamn lucky I don't quit If we do one more show this month, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. And so would her assistant. In order to be with Kate, Felicia had foisted all the week's shows onto her assistant again. That was going to cost her another Gucci bag, and a fat lunch at Trader Vic's, but she had had this feeling' she had to come down to see Kate. And she was glad that she had. She shoved the picnic basket onto the kitchen counter and looked around. It really was a pleasant house It had been a good choice. So how's Tom?

Fine. Happy. Nothing new. Felicia nodded solemnly and sat down in a chair. Kate followed suit.

You know, Licia, you look worse than I do, but then, you drove further. Want the leftover lemonade?

Felicia made a horrible face. Darling, I love you, but lemonade is not me. God, what a horrible thought.

Kate looked at her with an apologetic smile. I don't have anything more interesting to offer you, I'm afraid.

The hell you don't. Felicia grinned wickedly and walked toward a cupboard with glee. I left some vermouth and gin here last week. And I brought onions and olives. She pulled the little jars out of her bag with a broad smile.

You'd make a fabulous Girl Scout.

Wouldn't I though? She retrieved her bottles and mixed herself a professional-looking martini, as Kate sat up a little straighter in her chair. Heartburn again? Felicia knew the look on her face. She had been around enough to know all the looks, better than Kate herself did. Everything from heartburn to hysterics. And this looked like heartburn.

I think I ate too many cherries at lunch. It feels more like indigestion than heartburn. And cramps. Jesus, that was all she needed, a bellyache to go with her big belly. Poor baby, how could she have done that to him, and herself? Thinking of it made her giggle. Maybe I just need a martini. But they both knew she didn't mean it. She hadn't had a drink in months.

Why don't you go lie down? I'll have a shower, and then I can throw some dinner together. Felicia looked matter-of-fact and very much at home.

You came down here to cook for me, yes?

Yes. Now go get out of your dress and lie down.

Tes, mother.

She felt better though when she had. And after a shower, she felt wonderful. She could hear Felicia starting to rattle around the kitchen, and she stopped in the nursery for a minute, and there it was. Willie.

The same bear as Tom's. She wondered how his Willie was doing just then, if Tom was holding it, loving it, or had already forgotten it. She touched the bear gently and then left the room.

What are you up to?

Spaghetti okay with you? It was one of three things Felicia could cook. The other two were fried eggs and steak. Kate nodded.

Wonderful. Spaghetti ought to be worth another five pounds, but at this point, what the hell.

They ate dinner by candlelight, looking at the view, and it was refreshing to have someone to talk to. Kate was growing too used to silence, and to seeing only Tom. She needed Felicia to add a little pepper to the cream soup of her life. Felicia added lots of it. Pepper supreme. She was in the midst of regaling Kate with the week's gossip from die store who was screwing whom, being promoted, getting fired, or had turned out to be a fag after all. But Kate wasn't listening as intently or laughing as hard as she normally would have.

What's the matter, love? You look kind of green. My spaghetti?

No. I think it's those goddamn cherries again. It was that same gnawing, grinding feeling she'd had before dinner, only slightly worse.

Cherries, my ass. You wore yourself out. Why don't you lie down on the couch? Or do you want to go to bed?

I'm not really tired. In fact, she felt jumpy, but she had felt like that before, just after seeing Tom. She lay down on the couch anyway, and then started to joke with Felicia again. Maybe it is your lousy spaghetti.

Up yours, lady. I happen to make the best spaghetti in the West.

Mama Felicia.

Felicia concocted herself another martini and the two women bantered and laughed. But the indigestion grew worse rather than better.