Woman (5 page)

     
"You
actually think she had something to do with—?"

     Again, she couldn't finish.

     "Just think about it,
Liz," he said. "There
are
people in the world with unusual abilities. I've even met one or
two. I'm not saying this girl is one of them. But do you want to risk this
night denying that she is?"

     She said no more. Her expression
one of flabbergasted disbelief tinged with an involuntary uneasiness. After
almost a minute of silence, she walked away from him without another word.

     "Well, come sitten-zee
down, sweetheart," Charlie was saying to Ganine.

     Moving to the bar, Liz
avoided looking at Ganine as Ganine moved to one of the chairs and sat on it
diffidently.

     "This is Barbara and
Max Silver," Charlie told her. "She's a nice lady, he's a Jewish
Nazi."

     "And he's an executive
producer," Max said, "One step above the amoeba."

     "Are you a friend of
the Harpers?" Barbara asked. At the bar, Liz shot a glaring look at
Ganine, then looked accusingly at David as he came up beside her. "Well,
now she is here," she muttered.

     "It'll only be for a
little while," he promised.

     "It'll be too long
whatever it is," she said. Angrily she poured several inches of vodka into
a glass, then added ice and tonic water.

     "Your headache is
gone," he said, "Just be grateful for that."

     She did not respond but he
could see that she was still uncertain about what he'd just suggested to her.

     He poured himself the same
drink as Liz's and they returned to the group. David sat, Liz chose to remain
standing.

     "So how are you feeling,
Liz?" Charlie asked. "Internal whim-whams?"

     "I'm all right,"
she answered quietly.

     "Well, we should all
clean up tonight," Charlie said. "Except for Max, he doesn't deserve
it of course."

     "And fuck you
too," Max said.

     "How are
you
feeling, Charlie?" David asked,
trying to lighten the moment.

     "About the awards,
fine," Charlie told him. "About waiting until ten or eleven to eat,
extremely
dubious. That's why I've
already eaten. Five o'clock is steak time to me." He winked at Ganine.
"Right?"

     She murmured something.
"What, sweetheart?" he asked, cupping his right ear.

     "I never eat
meat," she repeated.

     "Oh, now, that is un-American,"
Charlie said, grinning,

     "What are you, a
vegetarian?"

     She shook her head,
"No, I just don't like animals being killed."

     "Charlie thinks that's
what they're raised for," Max said to her.

     "I prefer fish or
chicken," David said, trying again to generate some amiability in the
group.     "With some attention to mercury
levels, of course."

     "You wouldn't say that
if you tasted a nice thick slab of my barbecued steak, blood-rare
preferred," Charlie told him. "Not to mention venison or wild
pig."

     "You
hunt?"
Ganine said. She looked
distressed.

     "With the best of them,
my dear," Charlie told her. "Nothing to compare with it."

     "Except for machine
gunning a barrel of fish," Max said.

     "Has anybody spoken to
my brother since yesterday?" Liz changed the subject.

     "I did," Charlie
told her. "He'll be here."

     "Alone?" Liz
asked.

     Charlie snickered, "Is
he ever?"

     "Not that anyone ever
noticed," Max said.

     David looked at Ganine. She
still looked upset by what Charlie had said. He considered saying something
about it, then decided against it. The less Ganine was involved in the
conversation, the better for Liz, he decided. He wondered if he'd made a mistake
telling Liz that he thought it was best to let Ganine remain. He wasn't at all
sure about what he'd suggested to Liz about Ganine. Still, the almost uncanny
onset, then abrupt cessation of Liz's headache couldn't help but give him
pause.

     He noted, with relief, that
Liz and Barbara were talking about the awards in generally positive terms.

     Ganine chilled the
atmosphere again as she said to Liz, "Your plants look sick, Mrs.
Harper."

     Liz looked at her without
expression, started to say something, then decided not to. "I'm not quite
ready yet,"she said. "If you'll excuse me." She started toward
the bedroom.

     "Care for some
company?" Barbara asked.

     "Sure, come on."
Liz managed a smile.

     Barbara stood and followed
Liz into the bedroom.

     "I'm sorry,"
Ganine said to Liz. Liz ignored her.

     "We, uh, had a woman
who took care of the plants," David said to Ganine. "She moved away
though and we haven't found a replacement."

     "I could take care of
them for you," Ganine replied.

     David smiled awkwardly.
"Well. . ." he said, not sure how to reply.

     "I love plants,"
Ganine said.

     "Not Charlie," Max
said, "He hunts them."

     Charlie made a scornful
sound, ignoring Max's remark. "All this. . .
dreck
about—"

     "Euphemism for
shit?"
Max said with a thin smile.

     "All right.
Shit
then," Charlie said, looking at
Max with a cold expression. "All this
shit
about plants and trees and dying species.
Jesus Christ,
it's still a great big
world out there. You ever drive across the country?" he asked Ganine.
"Space,
girl. Nothing but
space." He looked aggravated, his cheeks reddening.

     Max blew out a breath,
obviously bored. "Heard some of your program this afternoon while I was
driving home," he said to David.

     Charlie gave Max a
contemptuous look but went along with Max's changing of the subject,
"Missed it myself," he said. "My ex-wife used to listen to you
all the time though."

     "That's what saved
their marriage," Max said.

     "Up yours, Maxie,"
Charlie said.

     "As a matter of fact I
agree with you, Doc," Max told him.

     "On what?" David
asked.

     "On the failure of
women's lib," Max answered.

     Later that night, Liz told
him about her conversation with Barbara.

     "Who is this
girl?"
was the first thing Barbara
asked.

     "I'm goddamned if I
know," Liz answered. "David said that she just showed up at the door
when Charlie arrived and Charlie assumed she was a guest and took her in with
him."

     "That's weird,"
Barbara said.

     "You want to hear
weird?"
Liz told her. "David
thinks she might have had something to do with my headache."

     "You had a
headache?"

     "A
whopper,"
Liz said. "It was in
the works all day but it hit me like a ton of bricks. Just after I'd shut the
door in the girl's face. I didn't tell you that she was at the door talking
with David when I got home about five o'clock."

     "I don't—" Barbara
stated.

     "The headache really
hit me when I put her out. And, later, when I was talking to Charlie while
David was in the kitchen with the girl — "

     She broke off, a look of
indecisive concern on her face.

     
"What?"
 Barbara asked.

     
"Suddenly,
I thought my head was going to explode,"
Liz said.

     Barbara stared at her.
"Explode?"

     "Explode," Liz
nodded. "I felt as though I was going to die. Then. . ." She
grimaced, wishing she didn't have to go on.

     "What? Then what?"
Barbara asked anxiously.

     "It all went away.
Boom.
Like that.
Gone."

     "And you think—?"
Barbara couldn't finish.

     "I don't know
what
to think," Liz said, "But
I. . .feel. . . uncertain about the girl. David said we should just let her
stay until we left for the show. I
hate
the idea but. . .I'm just—" She gestured haplessly.

     "Jesus God,"
Barbara said quietly. "This is really bizarre."

     "Well, anyway, I have
to let her stay. I'm afraid not to."

     "Christ, I don't blame
you." Barbara made a painedlook. "You think she. . .has some kind of
power?"

     "
Idon't know,
Babs," Liz said,
"I'll just be glad when we all leave for the theatre. I wish Val would get
here so we can get out of here."

     "Yes," Barbara
nodded, then whistled softly. "I agree."

     She watched Liz finishing
with her make-up and putting on her earrings. "Well, let's forget it for
now," Liz told her. "There's enough angst going on with the
awards."

     "That's for sure,"
Barbara agreed.

     "How are things with
you and Max? Still bad?" Liz asked.

     "Still bad,"
Barbara said, "We haven't made love for a year." She made a scornful
sound, "Made love," she said. "We never did. We fucked
occasionally."

     "I'm sorry, Babs."
Liz patted her arm.

     "Oh, it's not so
bad," Barbara said. "I don't even miss it now."