who was married with three children and lived with her accountant husband in Phoenix. It was too far to go, he told Lindsay, then asked her about her plans.
She was predictably vague, which annoyed him, but he let it go. They ended up together again with Sheila and Enoch.
Sheila played the saxophone for two hours, letting it wail and moan until Lindsay had gooseflesh with the power of it. Sheila wore a long black dress. She was incredibly good. There was no prodding, no questions of any kind, on Thanksgiving.
That evening Taylor kissed her for the first time.
They were standing in front of her apartment door, and she didn’t want him to go. But she was afraid to let him in.
He simply leaned down, catching her chin in the palm of his hand, and kissed her. Lightly, nothing threatening, nothing to make her withdraw.
“Oh.”
He grinned at her, eyes warm, wanting trust from her, wanting warmth from her as well. “Did you like that maybe a little bit?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s honesty. Always be honest with me, Eden, all right?”
“Sometimes,” Lindsay said very slowly, looking down at the buttons on his coat, “sometimes it’s just not possible.”
“When you come to trust me, you’ll find it will be easy as chewing gum, at least I hope so. Good night, sweetheart. Happy Thanksgiving. Sleep well.”
“I will, since I’m stuffed with more food than I usually eat in a week. Did you know that fashion photo sessions tend to slow down dramatically during the holiday season? It’s because models are people too and the temptations are just too great. I’ve got until December 1 to get rid of my turkey-and-stuffing lining.”
He was pleased that she was lingering to talk, very pleased, probably more pleased than the situation warranted, but what the hell. She paused and he picked it up. “Tomorrow I’ve got to fly to Chicago. A meat packer, of all things, has brought himself and his company into the twentieth century with a computer that should scare every cow on the hoof in the U.S. Unfortunately, there’s a major screwup with a critical part of a specialized program and all the techs haven’t been able to straighten it out. He’s so teed off with the company that he called me. I’ll phone you from there tomorrow night and give you my number.”
Before she could say anything, Taylor leaned down and kissed her again, just as lightly, his gloved fingers caressing her cheek. He loved touching her, even with gloves on. He cupped her chin in his palm. “Miss me, all right?”
“I think I will,” Lindsay said, and knew it was true.
Taylor didn’t have luck or an attack of genius on the meat packer’s job. It took him three long days of pure grunt work to diagnose the problem and figure out how to fix it. The man who’d hired him, Mr. Closse, was looking over his shoulder every minute, wringing his fat hands and cursing technology in general.
Chicago was cold and raining. The wind was loud, even through the double windows in his hotel room. Taylor was tired, impatient, and he missed Eden. Missed her more than he’d thought he would. He looked forward to their long talks each night.
When the job was finally done and the five thousand dollars in his wallet, Taylor flew back to New York.
He was at Eden’s apartment by six o’clock that evening.
To his surprise, a young woman he’d never seen before opened the door. She stared at him and he stared back.
“Are you selling something? Why didn’t the super ring you up?”
“I’m Taylor and I’m a regular. The super and I drink beer together on Thursday afternoons at Clancy’s. Who are you? Where’s Eden? Is something wrong?”
“You’re a friend of Lin… Eden’s?”
She sounded shocked and plainly disbelieving. “Yes,” he said easily, “I’m a very good friend. I even spent Thanksgiving with her. Who are you?”
“I’m Gayle Werth. Please come in. I’m sorry for grilling you, but it’s just that Eden didn’t say anything about a man or a friend who was a man. Oh, dear, let me take your coat.”
“Where’s Eden?”
“In the bedroom. She’s got a great case of the flu and is at very low ebb right now.” Gayle studied him for a minute, still not believing that this hunk, this man who was every inch a man and not a gay, was a friend of Lindsay’s, that Lindsay would allow such a man to come within ten miles of her. How much of a friend? “I’ll see if she’s awake. It’s been a very long day for her.”
“I’m here now. I’ll take care of her.”
Again the young woman looked incredulous. At his offer? At his very presence? Taylor had the feeling it was the latter.
“You’ve known Eden long?”
“We went to boarding school together in Connecticut. The Stamford Girls’ Academy. Doesn’t that sound great? Anyway, we go all the way back to first ear piercings and exchanging formulas to cover zits. Sit down, Taylor, and I’ll see what Eden—”
“No, don’t bother.” Taylor walked past her, aware that she was on his heels, uncertain what she should do.
He walked quietly into Eden’s bedroom and stopped short. She was lying on her back, blankets up to her chin, and her face was white as rice paper. Her hair was in a lank dull braid. She was just opening her eyes. “Oh,” she said and moaned. “I had hoped you would call so I could tell you to keep your distance. Don’t come any closer, Taylor, I’m sicker than a pig.”
“I never get sick,” he said, and sat down on the bed beside her. He laid his palm on her forehead. “Fever. How long have you felt this bad? What have you taken and when?”
“Dr. Taylor, I presume?”
“Eden, what do you want me to do?”
“Oh, Gayle—”
Taylor turned to the woman who was standing there, nearly
If Lindsay hadn’t felt like garbage that had already been completely squashed in a compactor, she would have smiled at the utterly bewildered look on Gayle’s face. “He’s a friend, Gayle. It’s okay. I’ll call you tomorrow if I’m still alive. Thanks for letting me boss you around and for being such a wonderful slave.”
“You’re sure, Eden?”
“Very. Taylor will be leaving soon too.”
Taylor didn’t say anything. He nodded to Gayle and remained silent until he heard the front door close.
“Now, why the hell didn’t you tell me you were sick last night when I called you?”
“I wasn’t all that sick. It hit me during the night. I even swore along about two A.M. that I’d become a missionary, but it didn’t matter. God must have known I was lying because it just got worse.”
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she stared at him, turning whiter than a moment before, and leapt from the bed. He saw long bare legs from beneath a sleep shirt saying
He followed her into the bathroom, waited until she was shuddering from dry heaves, then lifted her beneath the arms and helped her back into bed.
“You’re sick and it’s time to call the doctor.”
She fluttered her hand but didn’t argue. She felt too awful. Then, when he was reaching for the phone, she said, “I wish you wouldn’t. It’s just a stomach flu.”
“I have a friend who’ll tell me what’s best. Have you been throwing up all day?”
She nodded.
“You haven’t tried to eat?”
“Gayle made some Jell-O but it didn’t stay where it was supposed to.”
