“He actually did.”
“Brother.”
“And you know what else?”
“What?”
“I’m twenty-six, I’ve got a job half the people at this convention would kill to get, and I’m thinking I made the biggest mistake of my life when I left Dan.”
“This just occurred to you?”
“It occurred to me a long time ago. I just figured, you know, I’d meet someone else.”
“And you haven’t.”
“Nobody I love.”
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
“What
“Not necessarily.”
“Yeah. There’s always the Golden Gate. Conveniently located.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Nora said.
“I really feel…oh shit,” she muttered as she started weeping again. “I really feel…sometimes…like I threw my life away.”
“Hey, hey.” Nora reached across the table and took her hand. “It’s not the end of the world. What I was gonna suggest—you feel so strongly about this, why not give him another shot? We’re how far from Mill Valley? Not very far, are we?”
Tyler shrugged and sniffed. “I don’t know, half an hour.”
“So drive over tomorrow and look him up.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s been
“If that job was so important he let you slip out of his fingers, he’ll be there.”
“I can’t, Nora.”
“Why not take a shot? What’ve you got to lose? For all you know…”
“No.” The thought of it made her sick with dread.
“If you need some moral support, I’ll come with you.”
Tyler said, “We have to drive back tomorrow.”
“What for? We’ve got two more glorious weeks of summer vacation before the rat race starts. What’s so important you have to get home? ’Fraid your house-plants’ll croak? Let’s drive over to Marin, first thing in the morning, and try to find this Dan of yours. If it doesn’t work out, what’ve we lost? An hour or so? We can still make it to LA by dark.”
“I don’t know. I want to think about it.”
“What’s to think about? Go for it.”
“I don’t know.” Tyler finished her Baileys. She rubbed her face. “I…feel so confused. I’m going back to my room. Are you gonna stay here?”
Nora nodded. “Night’s young. I’ll leave the connecting door unlocked. Wake me up at first light, okay?”
“First light? Sure thing.”
In her room on the sixth floor, Tyler flopped onto the bed. The ceiling seemed to be revolving slowly like the bar she’d just left.
She’d had too many drinks.
How many? Let’s see. Three vodka tonics at the cocktail party before the banquet. God knows how much wine with dinner. Three or four glassfuls, maybe. Then two snifters of Baileys Irish Cream in the bar with Nora. No wonder the ceiling wouldn’t stand still.
No wonder she’d blabbed.
If she’d been sober, she would’ve kept all that about Dan to herself. Nothing like a few drinks to loosen the tongue, make you say things you wish you hadn’t.
Let Nora put down a few more, maybe she won’t remember and they can drive on back tomorrow the way they’d planned.
Fat chance.
I can always tell her no. Put my foot down.
Her legs were hanging off the side of the bed. Her feet, resting on the floor, felt cramped. With an effort, she lifted one across her knee and pulled the shoe off. She sat up to take off the other, then remained motionless while a wave of dizziness passed.
At least she didn’t feel nauseated. Just a little tipsy.
Tipsy’s the word for it, all right, she thought, and let herself tip over. She drew her legs up and lay on her side, a bent arm cushioning her head.
What’ll I do?
Stir your bones and take some aspirin and a few glasses of water or you’ll really feel like hell in the morning.
The morning. God, the morning. What’ll I do?
Tell Nora no. No, no, Nora, I don’t want to go.
Why not?
Because, damn it, it would hurt too much to see him again—even to try. He’ll have a wife, and she could’ve been me. You don’t know he’s married. He might be single and lonely. He might still want you.
Sure thing.
Why did I open my mouth to Nora? Because I drank too much. And if I fall asleep like this, I’ll be sorry.
Rolling onto her back, she drew up the skirt of her sheath dress. She raised a leg, and started to unfasten a stocking from her garter belt.
Dan hated pantyhose. To please him, she’d stopped wearing the things. She’d never gone back to them.
She’d never gone back to smoking pot, either.
And she still wore her hair short, the way he liked it. Makes you look like Peter Pan, he’d said. Peter Pan’s a boy, she’d reminded him, and added that perhaps the hairstyle appealed to his latent homosexuality. Oh yeah? he’d said. Come here and we’ll see if I’m a fag.
Big macho cop.
God, she missed him.
She pulled the garter belt out from under her. She slipped her panties down, and kicked them off. Then she stretched, enjoying the feel of the cool bedspread against her buttocks and legs. She could doze off right now, so easily. With a deep sigh, she sat up. She struggled with the zipper at the back of her dress, pulled the dress over her head, and removed her bra. She climbed off the bed and started to gather her clothes.
While she’d kept her hair the same, stayed away from pantyhose and pot, changed very little about herself since leaving Dan, there was one major difference. She’d been chubby, then. In her first term at UCLA, she’d dropped fifteen pounds. As if she’d left her appetite with Dan. Though the appetite had eventually returned, she’d had no trouble keeping the weight off.
She took her nightgown from the suitcase, but didn’t put it on. She stepped in front of the mirror. Her eyes looked a little funny. That was the booze. She drew a forefinger over her cheekbone. For all Dan knew, she didn’t have cheekbones. Or a waist. Or hipbones.
She grinned at the Tyler Moran he’d never seen.
He’ll go ape, she thought.
Her heart started thudding, for she suddenly realized she would be making that trip tomorrow. No matter the pain no matter the outcome. If she didn’t, she would always wonder about Dan, about the second chance thrown away and she would never stop regretting it.
Her racing heart made her head throb.
