SAN FRANCISCO
Cheney and Julia stood side by side on the Marin Headlands looking down at the Golden Gate Bridge, watching thick gray threads of fog weave through the suspension cables. They both had on their leather jackets and gloves. A sharp wind was whipping Julia’s hair around her face.
“I’d like for you to stay in San Francisco, Julia,” Cheney said. “With me. I’ll bet we can find a nice house that’ll suit us.”
She cocked her head to one side, tapped her fingertips to her chin. “Say, is that a proposal?”
He looked surprised. “You know, I hadn’t started out with that particular objective, but I guess that’s how my brain wanted it to come out of my mouth. Goes to prove I should trust my brain. I’m crazy about you. What do you say, Julia? Will you marry me?”
He saw a leap of excitement in her eyes, felt his smile ready to split his face, but what she said was, “That’s a huge thing you’re saying, Cheney. You’ve never been married before. I have, two times, and neither had a good result. We haven’t had what you’d call a normal dating relationship, let alone a single date, other than that one wild time in the Sherlocks’ gym—well, I’m thinking maybe we should take our time, let things settle down some more —”
He laid his hands on her shoulders. “Look at me, Julia. Yes, look at me. You can see what I’m feeling for you right on my face. When something’s right, it’s right. I know it is. Do you?”
She chewed on her bottom lip a moment, looking away from him. Just when his anxiety level was nearly in the stratosphere, she looked up at him and gave him a big smile. “Yes, oh boy, yes, I’ll marry you. You can forget what I said, that was just depressing maturity and common sense leaking out of my mouth.”
“Is that a note of sarcasm?”
“Maybe. Now, Cheney, are you willing to accept my psychic friends without rolling your eyes? Can you restrain yourself?”
“Even with Bevlin?”
“Especially with Bevlin. He’s still becoming who he’s supposed to be, trying to fine-tune his gift.”
Cheney rolled his eyes, then saw the smile she was trying to hide.
“I saw that,” he said.
“I can’t help it.”
The wind kicked up and Julia hugged him closer. She said between kissing his neck and jaw, “You’ll admit, won’t you, that at least Kathryn acts pretty normal, some of the time.”
“Okay, maybe.”
“That’s because she thinks you’re hot, and doesn’t want to scare you off. Or maybe it’s Savich she thinks is hot, hard to tell. But me, I’d take you any day.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “I’d take you any day too. I could offer her Savich, but I think he’d hurt me.”
She kissed his ear.
Cheney said, “I called my folks, you know, told them about you.”
“Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of your family yet. You got a big one?”
“Oh yeah, three brothers, two sisters, a dozen nieces and nephews and my parents, of course, and none of them are very good at minding their own business. But my family will adore you, Julia, fold you right into the mix, whether you want that or not, and begin meddling immediately—career decisions, vacations, where we’ll spend Christmas, where our children should go to school—won’t ever stop, even if we move to Alaska. Once you’re married to me, your privacy is over. Can you live with that?”
“That sounds wonderful. They don’t know much about me, do they?”
“No, but when they find out, they’ll cheer you for being such a heroine.”
Julia saw a couple of tourists in jeans and short-sleeved T-shirts, trying to brave the cold wind, shivering violently. She should tell them the sun would come out, maybe, but instead, she threw back her head and broke into “Tomorrow.” Several more shivering tourists standing some twenty feet away turned and listened. When she finished, they applauded. She gave them a small bow and waved.
She said, “The district attorney called me today. Are you ready for this, Cheney? Fact is, he apologized. He’s got a truckload of proof against Thomas Pallack, and with Charlotte more than eager to testify against him, I know he meant it.”
No matter how many apologies the D.A. gave Julia, Cheney would still like to smack him in the chops.
“I’m big with the paparazzi again, for a short while anyway. They photographed me at my house speaking to one of the insurance people.”
“So long as they don’t trail you to my condo, we’re safe.”
She sighed and snuggled in close. The wind died down as the fog thickened, the tops of the bridge towers nearly covered now. She was sorry, but there was no chance of sun today. They both shivered at the sight of two lone sailboats on a broad reach, heeling sharply.
“There’s no more beautiful place on earth,” she said, “even if you freeze half the summer.”
He smiled, felt happy enough to burst with it. Not all that long ago he’d gotten himself a date on a Thursday night for the Crab House on Pier 39. He hadn’t gotten his cioppino, he’d gotten Julia.
Fate was something he marveled at, but accepted. As for the local woo-woo wizards, he imagined it would always be hard not to roll his eyes. He pictured Bevlin Wagner in his slipping towel and grinned.
He said, “Let’s go brew some coffee and talk about that new house we’re going to find.”
