Beyond Midnight (36 page)

"
Katie? Amy? Would you like me to tell you a story? We can use the log cabin and we can also use the gingerbread house to play-act while I tell the story. It
'
s a really good one!
"

Amy, a chatterbox, tagged after Peaches as she set the stage—the two houses, with a forest of potted plants between them—on the floor of the nursery.

"
My mommy tells me lots of stories,
"
the child said,
"
and Daddy, too, but Mommy tells me more because Daddy doesn
'
t know so many, and Mommy says he tells them too fast and I like it when it
'
s a long story and then I don
'
t have to go to sleep. But when Mommy tells a story she tells them slow and she makes lots of faces and she makes me laugh and sometimes it
'
s even sad. Do you know a long story?
"

"
Yes, I do, honey,
"
said Peaches.
"
Has your mommy or daddy ever told you the story of Hansel and Gretel?
"

Conceivably the father had; they liked to scare their young.

"
No,
"
said Amy promptly.
"
What
'
s Han
...
Han
..."

"
Hansel and Gretel were two dear girls who were friends—just like you and Katie,
"
said Peaches, corrupting the fable to suit her needs.

"
Are they three years old? Because I
'
m going to be four years old,
"
Amy warned.

"
Well, they were just exactly your age—your age and Katie
'
s age. And they lived in this very nice log cabin,
"
Peaches said, putting two small dollhouse figures in Sally
'
s Log Cabin.

"
Who lives in
that
house?
"
asked Katie, pointing to the charming gingerbread cottage whose outside walls were painted all around with blue delphiniums and pink roses clinging to white lattice.

Peaches had already slipped a black-robed old crone, one that she
'
d been saving for a day like this, into the gingerbread cottage. She smiled and said,
"
You must wait to hear the story, Katie.
"

It was obvious from the way Katie nervously hugged her teddy bear that she wasn
'
t sure she wanted to hear it.
"
Will it have a happy ending?
"
she asked with a hopeful look.

"
Maybe!
"
said Peaches cheerfully.

And maybe not.

* * *

Helen didn
'
t hear from Nat until Thursday, and when she did, the news was disappointing.

"
I
'
ve been out of town. Even worse, I
'
ll be gone again for Orientation Day next week,
"
he said on the phone.

Without bothering to explain—and really, what would be the point?—he went on to say,
"
But I wanted to find out how you
'
re feeling. You looked pretty knocked around last Sunday.
"
His voice was sad and low and frustrated, which wasn
'
t surprising; he must be exhausted.

Helen had been struggling all week long over whether or not to call and apologize for her bizarre behavior. She
'
d rehearsed fifty different clever speeches, but all she could think of saying now was,
"
I
'
m not in the habit of fainting in stranger
'
s bedrooms, you know.
"
She sounded as prim as a virgin librarian.

He laughed and said,
"
You can
'
t possibly think of me as a stranger.
"

Which was true, because she didn
'
t, nor had she ever. Everything about their relationship had been too intense for that, starting with the
cry
of anguish she
'
d heard from him on the day his wife died.

"
Anyway, I
'
m fine,
"
she said softly.
"
How
'
s Katie?
"

"
Not so fine,
"
he answered.
"
She
'
s withdrawn; jumpy. Peaches says she
'
s been like that since Sunday.
"

"
Because of me, you think? Because she saw me—you know—in your arms?
"

His voice sounded strained as he said,
"
You make it sound like I was hauling you off to ravish you.
"

I wish.
The thought came and went like a shooting star.

"
I just mean Katie may be having fears that her mother
'
s being
...
displaced,
"
Helen explained. That didn
'
t come out right, either.

"
Lord, I forgot,
"
he said without taking offense.
"
You
'
re a psychology major.
"

"
Yes, and we always look for conflicts where there are none,
"
she said lightly.
"
So ignore me.
"

"
That
'
s a little hard to do,
"
he shot back.

Helen had the sense that they were straying into deep water, so she said,
"
And
I
almost forgot. Every year we hold a lovely event on the third Saturday in June to celebrate graduation for the preschoolers, as well as to kick off the summer session for
newcomers. We call it our Old-
Fashioned Ice Cream Social. It
'
s held outside, weather permitting; otherwise, inside the school. The parents all bring ice cream or fancy toppings—or flowers to decorate the tables, if they
'
re gardeners. The kids love it, and so do the grown-ups. It
'
s a very friendly affair. And brief,
"
she added for his benefit.
"
It runs from two to four.
"

"
Are we invited?
"
he asked unnecessarily.

"
Of course. The invitation
'
s in the mail.
"

"
Great. What can I bring?
"

Bring? Him? Helen had to keep herself from breaking into droll laughter.
"
Oh, that
'
s all right. Janet has everything under control.
"

"
Okay, I
'
ll call Janet, then.
"

"
No, really, you don
'
t have to do any—
"

What was she thinking? He wouldn
'
t be doing anything. He
'
d have Peaches stop at a Ben and Jerry
'
s and that would be that.
"
Fine, just call Janet,
"
she said, relenting.

She added,
"
I
'
m sorry you won
'
t be able to make Orientation. We always have a nice video showing highlights of the previous year. . . it
'
s very informative.
"

"
You don
'
t have to impress me, Helen,
"
he said in an oddly rueful voice.
"
I
'
m already impressed.
"

"
Well—but still,
"
she said, tingling down to her socks. Again she moved the conversation into shallower water.
"
I
'
m glad you can make the Social, anyway. You sound flat-out. How big is that Columbus Fund you manage?
"

"
It
'
s not the Magellan Fund, if that
'
s what you mean,
"
he quipped.
"
But it
'
s big enough for me to lose sleep over. Two billion.
"

Two billion dollars of other people
'
s money! The size of the responsibility took her breath away. And yet he didn
'
t seem fazed by it. In fact she had the sense that, like Avis, he was trying harder to be number one.

"
But don
'
t you get tired of being on the road so much?
"
she asked.

He laughed.
"
The truth? It
'
s not that bad. The airlines, the car rentals, the Hiltons and Marriotts all love road warriors like me. We
'
re a big percentage of their profits. They shower us with platinum cards and give us the best rooms, the best views, the best service. Ask anyone who travels constantly. He may not always be greeted by smiles at home, but he damn well is at the hotel desk.
"

My God,
she thought.
What kind of marriage did he have?

"
Katie thinks your office is in an airplane,
"
she said, trying to lay guilt on him.

It didn
'
t work. He laughed again and said,
"
She
'
s right. Phone, fax, laptop—I have it all in my virtual office high above the clouds.
"

Helen was surprised to realize how sensitized she
'
d become to the issue of his traveling.
It
'
s as if Linda has passed the baton to me,
she decided, a little frightened by the realization.
Why do I feel this closeness to her all the time?

"
Well, happy trails, then,
"
she said.
"
We
'
ll see you at the Ice Cream Social—with any luck.
"

This time he felt the barb.
"
I said I
'
d be there, Helen. And I will.
"

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
she thought.
We
'
ll see.
Aloud she said brightly,
"
Great! We
'
ll look forward to seeing you!
"

She hung up, morose at the thought that she wouldn
'
t see him until then—if then. She was thinking of him more and more, seeing him less and less. It was all so dumb.

"
Lena
, dear, why so sad?
"
asked her aunt when Helen returned to the garden to finish her tea.

They had set out the floral cushions on the
Adirondack
chairs so that they could enjoy the evening, by far the warmest of the year. The air was lush and still, with a hint of the heat to come. The earliest rose in the garden—a wonderful, scrambling tho
rn
less bourbon with the exotic name of Zephirine Drouhin—had opened just that day; its scent, as lurid as its bright pink color, spilled over them, leaving Helen edgy with longing.

"
That was Mr. Byrne,
"
she said with an exasperated sigh.
"
He can
'
t come to Orientation because he
'
ll be traveling. He
'
s always on the road,
"
she added petulantly.

"
Where does he go?
"