It was probably one of the guests, suffering from insomnia like herself, or a pair
of lovers looking for a private place to share their passion. But as she watched
the light glimmer in one window and then the next, she started walking toward it.
The air was still and quiet, unlike the last time she’d approached the boathouse,
and when she stepped inside, the music played only in her memory. Still, the
shadows undulated as if those long-ago dancers had left their energy and their
desires behind. As on that last night, she had only one destination. When she
reached the far end of the room, she wasn’t surprised to see Leslie perched on
the windowsill, her head tilted back and her eyes closed. The wash of moonlight
erased the years from her face, and Dev gasped as the old familiar connection
punched through her.
Leslie turned her head and regarded the dim ? gure standing by her side. “Hello,
Dev.”
“Hi, Les,” Dev said, her throat raspy. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“No. You?”
• 62 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
Dev shook her head.
“I’m sorry about dinner,” Leslie said.
“What do you mean?” Dev leaned her shoulder against the window frame
opposite Leslie. A few inches of hot summer air and a heart full of broken
dreams separated them.
“It couldn’t have been pleasant for you trying to eat with all that tension in the
room.” Leslie shrugged. “I’d forgotten why I don’t visit very often. My parents
don’t approve of me.”
“I got the impression they didn’t approve of your job,” Dev said, recalling just
how carefully Leslie and her parents had tiptoed around anything that broached
upon Leslie’s life in Manhattan or her career.
Instead, Eileen and Paul Harris, a tall, thin quiet man, had questioned Dev with
enthusiasm about the Institute and her work for the Department of
Environmental Conservation.
“Is there a difference?” Leslie couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice.
“After all, we are what we do.”
“Why do you do it?” Dev asked mildly.
“Because I’m good at it.”
Dev laughed. “I bet. But, I mean…what made you decide to do it?
What made you change your plans?”
Leslie hesitated, sorting through any number of answers that would suf? ce
while revealing nothing personal. Personal revelation was not something she did
lightly. If she was honest, it wasn’t something she did at all. And she was very
good at de? ecting conversations that verged too close to the intimate. “You ?
rst.”
“Me? All right.” Dev paused, giving the issue serious thought.
“I’ve always liked ? sh.”
“That’s not an answer,” Leslie said, but she couldn’t help smiling.
“Actually, it’s the truth. When I ? nally started studying, I realized how much
there was to learn about the things I saw every day. The lake is part of me, I
guess.” Dev sighed. “And the ? sh, well, besides creating interesting social
orders, they’re beautiful.”
“You make it sound romantic,” Leslie said seriously.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dev said, thinking that romance was something she’d
changed her mind about since last they’d met. “Your turn.”
“Remember how I used to hate math?”
• 63 •
RADCLY fFE
Dev nearly gasped at the unexpected twist of pain. She wondered how Leslie
imagined she could forget anything that had happened between them. “Yeah. I
remember.”
“I thought it was because I didn’t have a logical mind. You know, back then I
wanted to work outside, tend the land, that kind of thing.
That was probably me channeling my parents’ dreams.” Leslie swiveled on the
wide window ledge and swung her legs outside the building to dangle in the
moonlight. “Once I got away, got exposed to other things, I discovered that I
was actually very good at dissecting complex issues.
I also have a knack for ? nding ? aws in arguments.”
“So you got interested in the law.” Dev spoke carefully, recalling how defensive
Leslie had seemed earlier when the subject of her work had come up. “So what
about the rest of it? Why the kind of law that you practice?”
“I like competition.” Leslie glanced at Dev. “It’s just a big chess game.”
“You were always good at that, but…defending big businesses that operate
with no concern for what they might be doing to anyone else? Jesus, Les.”
“The simple answer is that everyone is entitled to the best defense possible,
including corporations.” Leslie slid off the windowsill. “But it’s not that simple,
Dev. Sure, some of the regulations are reasonable, even if they are almost
prohibitively costly to implement. But even my parents, if they just thought about
it, would admit that government intrusion in the private sector isn’t always the
answer. In fact, sometimes it just creates more problems.”
Dev caught Leslie’s arm as she turned her back to walk away.
“Look, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Leslie snapped. “Clearly, you and my parents are on the side of the
angels. And I’ve sided with the devil.”
“It’s not my place to judge you. Or theirs either.”
“Well, thank you very much for that.”
Dev couldn’t see Leslie’s face in the shadows, but she could feel her shaking.
Underneath the anger was pain, and Dev felt it as if it were her own. She slid her
hand along Leslie’s forearm until she reached her hand and squeezed Leslie’s ?
ngers before letting go. “I didn’t mean to bring up a sensitive subject.”
“Forget it.” Leslie stepped close to the window again and curled
• 64 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
her ? ngers around the sill. She leaned out and let the breeze cool the heat of
anger from her face. “What are you doing out here anyway?”
“I saw the light. What are you doing down here?”
“Trying to ? gure out why the hell I came home.”
A hint of Leslie’s perfume drifted to Dev. She had no idea what it was, but it
smelled like Leslie. Sharp and hot, with a hint of sadness just beneath the
surface. “Your mother said your visit was sudden. Does it have something to do
with that intravenous line and the ? u?”
Leslie’s head whipped around as she stared at Dev. “You haven’t changed.
