The Lear was already out of the hangar when Elizabeth pulled her Ghia through the gates that were manned by a field attendant.
'I still think you should stick around,' she scolded Ryan. 'Just 'cause Marty Lanier didn't like the rough cut doesn't mean you can't get an order. What am I supposed to tell Freddie Fredrickson when he calls?'
Fredrickson was the president of the TV Division at Universal. He and Ryan had been allies until the roof caved in on Ryan's career and now Fred glowered at him like temporary office furniture.
'They're not gonna call. I'm dead, Elizabeth. They just haven't put the headstone up yet.* You know it, I know it.
She had parked in the heat by the side of the hangar.
'Look, Ryan, I got an offer from Mel Thomas. He's doing the new Judd Hirsch series. They want me to start next month. I told them I couldn't leave you, but. .'
'Liz, take the job,' he instructed her. 'We shouldn't go down together.'
'I feel like I'm deserting you.'
'I deserted myself, hon. You gotta look out for yourself.'
She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
'You know how much I care for you?'
'Me, too. Take the job, Elizabeth. It'll make me feel better.'
Lucinda was seated in the back of the plane, her feet up on the gray upholstered seat, as Ryan came aboard smiling.
'Hi,' he said, waving at Milo, the pilot, and moving back to join her. She was wearing jeans and a work shirt; a blue blazer lay on the seat next to her. He moved her jacket and sat down.
'Where's Mickey?' he asked, looking around. 'He has to stay over two more days.'
She reached into her purse. 'I got something for you,' she said and pulled out a paperback book. The title was 'Meeting the Shadow.'
'You remembered.'
'Yep.'
'Look, about yesterday. . I think I came off sort of like a head case. I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I'm out of control.'
'Vulnerability is more attractive than invincibility.' 'Is it?'
'For me. Somebody who isn't afraid to show his weakness is always more interesting than some showboat with all the answers.'
Soon they were in the air, heading out over the San Gabriel Mountains, leaving the L. A. nightmare behind.
Ryan looked at Lucinda, struck by her composure and beauty. He tried to see Mickey in her, but there was absolutely no family resemblance. Silence hung like a velvet curtain between them.
'So you're working on your doctorate,' Ryan said, pushing it away. 'What's it on?'
'Bereavement. Guess you know a little about that.' 'More than I need to, I think.'
Suddenly he was very, very tired. Something about being here with Lucinda relaxed him. Within a short time, he fell asleep.
He awoke some time later and saw that she was looking at him. He turned his eyes away and thought, 'God, could I be getting this lucky?'
The answer was waiting in New Haven.
Chapter 12
Atfirst, it was just a void, an all-consuming nothingness, and then the dark shape passed him-bigger than before-evil and deadly, trailing pieces of Matt's clothing i n the currents behind it. The Florida Sea World T-shir t f rom the trip last summer, curling in the blackness, waftin g i n emptiness. Matt's shirt, then his tennis shoes caught o n s omething. The shape went by him in silence but the roa r t hat followed was the blood pounding in his ears. A simia n e ye swept past, seeing him, seeing the shallow desires tha t g uided him. He didn't think he could stand another pass, another look into that eye, but the shadow turned and cam e b ack.
'Are you ready, Daddy? Here we come.'
Ryan bolted up out of a sound sleep, his heart racing. He didn't know where he was but finally put his thoughts in order. Pool house. The guest room. He was at Mickey's father's New Jersey estate. It was eleven-thirty in the evening.
He got up and moved slowly to the bathroom to look at the now-familiar mask that greeted him after bouts with the shadow-hollow eyes, tight lips, a look of desperation.
He dressed, left the pool house, and went wandering out on the grounds. It was cold, but at least the chill made him feel alive. A full moon turned the landscape silver. And then he saw her by the garden. She sensed him before she could have known he was there.
'Couldn't sleep,' he said, as she turned.
'Me neither.'
They stood in silence.
'Isn't Rex buried around here someplace?'
'He's over there.' She pointed to the right.
'You warm enough?' he asked.
'I don't get cold. It's a family trait. Good circulation or something.'
'Whatta you doing out here?'
'I was. . I was talking to God.' It had never occurred to him that she was religious. Ryan had no formal religion. He believed that something out there governed things, but he found his church in a field of flowers or a beautiful star-filled night. Ryan had never felt close to God in formal settings.
'What were you telling Him?'
'None of your business.' She grinned. 'Come on, let's go inside. You look frozen.'
They moved through patio French doors into the living room. She turned on one light, and they sat down on the couch in front of the unlit fireplace. She picked up a pillow and put it in her lap. It was funny how comfortable he felt with her. He didn't have to be anybody. With Linda, he always had to help create an image of perfection for others. Only occasionally were they focused on something else, like the night they found the bird in the house.
'You look sad,' she said, reading him again, perfectly. 'I guess.'
'What are you thinking?'
'Nothing, really.'
And then suddenly he wanted to tell her-share it with her-even though it made very little sense.
'It will probably sound odd.'
'How will I know unless you tell me?'
He smiled and let a long-protected thought go free. 'In our Bel Air house, Linda and I were about to go to bed when we heard this chirping sound,' he started slowly. 'I walked into the entry and there was a robin sitting on the chandelier. Linda and I knew we had to get it out. We had to save that bird. It became the most important task on earth. So we opened the doors and all the windows and we tried to flush it out. . Linda waving a towel at the poor thing, me swinging a broom, and then it would take off, flying into walls, landing on the floor. Every time we'd almost get to it, the bird would take off and fly into another room.'
'What happened?'
'Finally, after at least an hour, she caught it. The robin was so tired, it just let her pick it up. She carried it outside and set it on the ground. We watched for an hour, but it wouldn't fly. Finally we went to bed. In the morning, it was gone.'
