I leaned back a little in my chair. She glanced over at Owens and the deacons. Good name for a country rock group.
I shook my head slightly. Concentration wasn't what it should be. Sherry certainly didn't seem frightened. She didn't seem happy either, but her glances at the deacons were more the way a child looks to a parent than anything else.
'Tommy wants you back,' I said.
'No.' Very firm. Almost animated. 'No.'
'What's the best part of being where you are?' I said.
'I don't have to worry.'
'About what?'
'About anything. Everything is simple and . . . and I don't have to think about things all the time.'
'Do you love Tommy?'
'I guess so, I'm not sure. But I can't be with him.'
'Too much pressure?'
'Yes.'
'Pressure to dance?'
'Pressure about everything.'
'Maybe you should move to San Francisco,' I said.
'Huh?'
'Private humor,' I said. 'You don't seem happy.'
She shrugged.
'On the other hand, I wasn't hired to make you happy. I was hired to find you and rescue you. But you don't seem to need to be rescued.'
She shifted in her chair. She looked at Owens and the deacons. Her hands still rested, folded, on the table before her.
'Where are you living?'
'Will you tell Tommy?'
'No.'
'Salisbury.'
'In the branch church on Route One?' She nodded.
'Between the roadhouse and the salvage yard?'
She nodded again.
Owens and the deacons sat silently watching us across the room. All five men had their arms folded. Uniformity.
'I might come visit you now and then, Sherry. Not to hassle you. Just to visit. See if you need anything.'
She nodded.
'You won't mind?' I said.
'No.'
'Okay. You may as well rejoin your party.' We stood. Sherry walked quickly back to Owens and the deacons. I went too.
'She says she wants to stay,' I said to Owens. 'I believe her.'
'I should hope so,' Owens said. The deacons all sat poised, like I might kick one of them at any moment.
'I told her I'd come visit occasionally. She said that was all right.'
Owens didn't say anything.
'If I come to visit and don't find her, I'll start looking again. And I'll be really mad.' I couldn't watch all four deacons at the same time. The one I was watching didn't blanch.
Owens said, 'Let's go,' and they got up and left. Owens and the Deacons. Actually Sherry and the Deacons sounded even better than Owens and the Deacons. I went out to the parking lot to find my car.
CHAPTER 16
I sat with Tommy Banks on the only two chairs in his studio, in a corner, near a window that looked out onto Huntington Avenue, in case anyone wanted to. We sipped coffee from paper cups. On the other side of the studio the dance company took a break. I had already begun to realize that dancers almost always moved and made little step motions even as they rested. It was as if they were always hearing music, always carving shapes in space.