Full Circle (25 page)

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Seeing Harry, I guess. And one of these days I've got a lot of studying to do.” She had all but forgotten it in the past few days.

“Could I take you to lunch before you go to the hospital?” She was touched that he would ask, and she accepted, worrying instantly what she should wear as soon as she stepped out of the car, but she didn't even have time to think of it when she got back to her room. She was so exhausted that she peeled off her clothes, dropped them on the floor, climbed into bed, and was instantly dead to the world. Unlike her mother in New York, who had been awake, sitting lonely in a chair and crying all night. Tana had not called, nor had Arthur in Palm Beach, and she had spent the entire night wrestling with the darker side of her soul, contemplating something she would never have thought she would do.

She had gone to midnight mass, as she and Tana used to do, and at one thirty she came home, and watched a little late night TV.

By two o'clock the most desperate loneliness she had ever felt in her life had set in. She was riveted to her seat, unable to move, almost unable to breathe. And for the first time in her life, she began to think of committing suicide, and by three o'clock it was an almost impossible urge to resist. Half an hour later, she went into her bathroom and got out a bottle of sleeping pills she never used, and trembling, she forced herself to put them down. She wanted to take them more than she had ever wanted to do anything in her life, and at the same time she did not. She wanted someone to stop her, to tell her everything would be all right. But who could tell her that now? Tana was gone, and would probably never live at home again, and Arthur had his own life, he only included her when it suited him, and never when she needed him. Tana was right about that, but it hurt her too much to admit it to her. Instead she defended everything he did, and his miserable selfish kids, that bitch Ann, who was always so rude to her, and Billy, he had been so sweet as a boy, but now … he seemed to be drunk all the time, and Jean wondered if Tana was right, if he wasn't the kind of young man she had always thought he was, but if that was true … the memory of what Tana had said four years before came crashing down on her now. What if it were true … ? if he had … if she hadn't believed … it was almost more than she could bear … it was as if her whole life were crashing in on her tonight and she couldn't bear it, as she sat staring longingly at the pills she held in her hand. It seemed the only thing left to do, and she wondered what Tana would think when they called her in California to tell her the news. She wondered who would find her body … the superintendent maybe … one of her co-workers … if they waited for Arthur to find her it could take weeks. It was even more depressing to realize that there wasn't even anyone left who would discover her soon. She thought of writing Tana a note, but that seemed so melodramatic and there was nothing left to say, except how much she had loved her child, how hard she had tried. She cried as she thought of Tana growing up, the tiny apartment they had shared, meeting Arthur, hoping that he would marry her … her whole life seemed to be flashing before her eyes as she clutched the vial of sleeping pills, and the night ground agonizingly by. She didn't even know what time it was when the phone finally rang. It was five A.M., and Jean was shocked when she saw the clock. She wondered if it was Tana, maybe her friend had died … with a shaking hand, she lifted the phone, and at first she didn't recognize the voice that identified itself as John.

“John?”

“John York. Ann's husband. We're in Palm Beach.”

“Oh. Of course.” But she was still stunned, and the emotions of the night had left her drained. She quietly set down the bottle of pills, she could attend to them afterwards. She couldn't understand why they would be calling her, but John York was quick to explain.

“It's Arthur. Ann thought I should call. He's had a heart attack.”

“Oh, my God.” She could feel her heart pound in her breast, and she was suddenly crying into the phone. “Is he all right? Is he … did…”

“He's all right now. But it was pretty bad for a while. It happened a few hours ago, and it's still touch and go, which is why Ann thought I should call.”

“Oh, my God … oh, my God…” Here she had been thinking of taking her own life, and Arthur had almost died. What if she had … she almost shuddered at the thought. “Where is he now?”

“At Mercy Hospital. Ann thought you might want to come down.”

“Of course.” She jumped to her feet, still holding the phone, grabbed a pencil, a pad, knocking over the vial of pills, and as they fell to the floor, she stood looking at them. She was herself again. It was incredible to think what she might have done, and he needed her now. Thank God she hadn't done it after all. “Give me the details, John. I'll catch the next plane.” She scribbled the name and address of the hospital, jotted his room number down, asked if there was anything they would need, and a moment later set down the phone, closed her eyes, thinking of him, and when she opened them there were tears on her cheeks, thinking of Arthur, and what might have been.

H
arrison Winslow sent the car to Berkeley to pick Tana up at noon the next day, and they went to Trader Vic's for lunch. The atmosphere was festive and the food was good; he had been told at the hotel that it would be an appropriate place to go. And he enjoyed her company almost too much as they chatted again, about Harry, but other things as well. He was impressed by how bright she was, and she told him about Freeman Blake, and her friend who had died, and Miriam who had influenced her to go to law school. “I just hope I survive. It's even harder than I thought it would be.” She smiled.

“And you really think Harry could do something like that?”

“He can do anything he wants to do. The trouble is he'd rather fool around.” She blushed and he laughed.

“I agree with you. He does like to fool around. He thinks it's congenital. But actually, I was a lot more serious than he in my youth, and my father was a very scholarly man. He even wrote two books on philosophy.” They chatted on for a while, and it was the most pleasant interlude Tana had spent in a long, long time. She looked guiltily at her watch eventually, and they hurried off to the hospital, bringing Harry a bag of fortune cookies. Tana had insisted on bringing him a drink. They brought him a huge Scorpion with a gardenia floating in it, and he took a long sip and grinned.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” But she could see that he didn't look pleased that she and his father had made friends, and finally when his father left the room and went downstairs to make a call, he glared at her.

“What are you looking so pleasant about?” It was good for him to be mad, she didn't mind. It would help bring him back to life.

“You know how I feel about him, Tan. Don't let him do a snow job on you.”

“He's not. He wouldn't be here if he didn't care about you. Don't be so goddamn stubborn and give him a chance.”

“Oh, for chrissake.” He'd have walked out of the room and slammed the door if he could. “What a crock of shit that is. Is that what he's been telling you?” She couldn't tell him all that Harrison had been telling her because she knew he wouldn't want her to, but she also knew by now how he felt about his son, and she was convinced of his sincerity. She was growing fonder of him by the hour, and she wished Harry would try to be more open to him.

“He's a decent man. Give him a chance.”

“He's a son of a bitch and I hate his guts.” And with that, Harrison Winslow walked into the room, just in time to hear Harry's words, and Tana went pale. The three looked at each other, and Harrison was quick to reassure her.

“That's not the first time I've heard that. And I'm sure it won't be the last.”

Harry turned in his bed to snarl at him. “Why the hell didn't you knock?”

“Does it bother you that I heard? So what? You've said it to me before, usually to my face. Are you getting more discreet now? Or less courageous?” There was an edge to the older man's voice and a fire in Harry's eyes.

“You know what I think of you. You were never there when I needed you. You were always somewhere goddamn else, with some girl, in some spa, or on some mountaintop, with your friends…” He turned away. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“Yes, you do.” He pulled up a chair and sat down. “And so do I. You're right, I wasn't there, and neither were you. You were in the boarding schools you chose to be in, and you were a goddamn impossible little snot every time I laid eyes on you.”

“Why shouldn't I have been?”

“That was a decision you made. And you never gave me a chance from the time your mother died. I knew by the time you were six that you hated me. I could accept it at the time. But you know, at your age, Harry, I would have thought that you would have gotten a little smarter by now, or at least more compassionate. I'm not really as bad as you like to think, you know.” Tana tried to fade into the wall, it was embarrassing being there, but neither of them seemed to mind. And as she listened, she realized that she had forgotten to call her mother again. She made a mental note to do it as soon as she left the hospital, maybe even from one of the phones downstairs, but she couldn't leave the room now, with World War III going on.

Harry stared angrily at his father now. “Why the hell did you come here anyway?”

“Because you're my son. The only one I've got. Do you want me to leave?” Harrison Winslow quietly stood up and his voice was low when he spoke. “I'll leave anytime you like. I will not inflict myself on you, but I will also not allow you to continue to delude yourself that I don't give a damn about you. That's a very nice fairy tale, poor little rich boy and all that, but in the words of your friend here, it's a crock. I happen to love you very much,” his voice cracked but he went on anyway, struggling with the emotions and the words and Tana's heart went out to him. “I love you very, very much, Harry. I always have and I always will.” He walked over to him then, bent and kissed him gently on the top of his head, and then strode out of the room, as Harry looked away and closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he saw Tana standing there with tears running down her cheeks at what she had just heard.

“Get the hell out of here.” She nodded, and quietly left, and as she closed the door softly behind her, she heard the sobs from the direction of Harry's bed. But he needed to be alone now. She respected that, and the tears were good for him.

Harrison was waiting outside for her, he looked more composed now, and relieved as he smiled at her. “Is he all right?”

“He will be now. He needed to hear the things you said to him.”

“I needed to say them to him. I feel better now too.”

And with that, he took her arm, and they walked downstairs arm in arm. It felt as though they had always been friends. And he looked at her with a broad smile. “Where are you going now, young lady?”

“Home, I guess. I still have all that work to do.”

“That's a crock.” He imitated her, and they both laughed. “How about playing hooky and going to the movies with an old man? My son has just thrown me out of his room, and I don't know a soul in this town, and it's Christmas, for God's sake. How about it, Tan?” He had picked the name up from his son and she smiled, wanting to tell him that she had to go home, but she couldn't do it somehow; she wanted to be with him.

“I really should go home.” But she didn't convince either of them, and he was in a festive mood as they climbed into the limousine.

“Good. Now that you've gotten that out of the way, where shall we go?” She giggled like a little girl, and he told the limousine driver to drive them around. Eventually, they bought a newspaper, picked out a movie they both liked, ate as much popcorn as they could stand, and went to L'Etoile afterwards, for a small supper and drinks at the bar. She was getting spoiled just being with him. And she was trying to remind herself of what a cad Harry said he was, but she didn't believe that anymore, and she had never been as happy in her life, as when he drove her home to Berkeley again, and took her in his arms, and kissed her as naturally as if they had both been waiting for that all their lives. He looked at her afterwards, touching her lips with his fingertips, wondering if he should regret what he'd done, but he felt younger and happier than he had in years. “Tana, I've never met any- one like you before, my love.” He held her tight and she felt a warmth and safety she had never even dreamed of before, and then he kissed her again. He wanted to make her his for the rest of time, but he also wondered if he was half mad. This was Harry's friend … his girl … but they both insisted that they were just friends, and yet he sensed something different than that, on Harry's part anyway. He looked deep into her eyes. “Tell me the truth about something, Tan. Are you in love with my son?”

Slowly, she shook her head. The driver of the limousine seemed to have disappeared. Actually, he had gone outside for a discreet walk. They were parked outside Tana's house. “No. I've never been in love with anyone … until now.…” They were brave words for her, and she decided to tell him the truth all at once. He had been honest with her since they'd met. “I was raped four and a half years ago. It kind of stopped everything for me. As though my emotional clock no longer ran, and it hasn't run since. I didn't go out at all for the first couple of years I was in college, and then finally Harry forced me into double dating with him a few times. But it was no big deal, and I don't go out with anyone here. All I do is work.” She smiled tenderly at him. She was falling head over heels in love with the father of her best friend.