Danielle Steel - Passion's Promise

“I’m not sorry. I’m glad. And I love you. I’m just sorry your friend …” Her voice trailed off and her eyes grew large as she looked at him, and he softened. He took her in his arms again, once more torn between wanting her and knowing he shouldn’t take her down with him. But he needed her too much.

“You’re quite something, lady.” He kissed her quietly and then straightened up. “Get ready to go, Mama. I’m going to tell Ernestine to get you out of here within five minutes, and I’ll be calling to check. I’ll call you in New York tonight. But it may be late. I want to get back to Chicago before I start playing around making phone calls.”

“You’ll be okay today?” But it was a pointless question and she knew it. Who knew if he’d be okay? What she really wanted to ask him was when she’d see him again, but she didn’t dare. She just watched with large damp eyes as he quietly closed the door to the room. A moment later she saw him leave the hotel in a cab. And ten minutes later, she and Ernestine did the same. Kezia got very drunk on the flight back to New York.

Chapter 19

It had been over a week since she’d left him in San Francisco. Now he was back in Chicago and calling her two or three times a day. But there had been a raw fiber of terror in her gut since she’d left him. He said everything was fine, and he’d be in New York any day. But when? And how was he really? She was aware of a guarded quality to his speech when he called. He didn’t trust his phone. And this was far worse than the last time they’d been apart. Then she had only been lonely. Now she was afraid.

She was desperately trying to keep her time, and her mind, as filled as she could. She had even suggested to Luke that she do a piece on Alejandro.

“On that fleabag center he runs?”

“Yes. Simpson says he might have a market for it. I think I’d like to do it. Think Alejandro would agree?”

“He’d love it, and a little publicity might help him get funds.”

“All right. I’ll get busy on it.” Either that or go crazy, sweetie pie.

“Okay, now what do I do? I’ve never been interviewed before.” She laughed at the nervous look on his face. He was such a nice man, with a good sense of humor.

“Well, Alejandro, let’s see. Actually, you’re only my second personal interview. Usually, I go about it quietly. Kind of sneaky.” She looked like a kid in her pigtails and jeans. But a clean kid. That was rare in those halls.

“Why sneaky? Are you afraid of what you write?” His eyes opened wide. It surprised him. She was so direct; it seemed unlike her to go through any back doors.

“It’s mostly because of the crazy life I lead. Luke covered it fairly accurately. I am one way, and live a number of other ways.”

“And what’s Luke to you, Kezia? Is he real?”

“Very. It’s my old life that isn’t real. Never was. And it’s even less so now.”

“You don’t like it?”

She shook her head in silent answer.

“That’s too bad.”

“I’m almost ashamed of it, Alejandro.”

“Kezia, that’s crazy. It’s part of you. You can’t deny it.”

“But it’s so ugly.” She toyed with a pencil and looked at her hands.

“It can’t all be ugly. And why ‘ugly’? To most people that life looks pretty good.” His voice was very soft.

“It’s an empty life, though. It takes everything out of you, and doesn’t put anything back. It’s pretense and games, and people cheating on each other, and lying, and thinking of how many thousands of dollars to spend on a dress, when they could be putting it into something like this. It just doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense to me. I guess I’m a misfit.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about that world.”

“You’re better off.”

“And you’re silly.” He reached out and touched her face, pulling her chin up until her eyes met his. “It’s part of you, Kezia. A nice part. A gracious part. You really think you’d be so much better off living up here like this? People lie and cheat and steal here too. They shoot junk. They fuck their children. They beat their mothers and their wives. They get frustrated and angry. They don’t have time to learn the things you know. Maybe you should just take that knowledge and use it well. Don’t waste your time feeling bitter or sad for the years before this. Just use it well now.”

She smiled at him for a long moment. He made sense. And he was right. Her world had given her something. It was a part of her life. “I think I hate it so much because I’m afraid I’ll get stuck there in the end. It’s like an octopus, and it won’t let you go.”

“Baby, you’re a big girl now. If you don’t want it, all you have to do is walk away. Quietly. Not with a bazooka in one hand and a grenade in the other. No one can stop you. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He looked surprised.

“I guess not. I never felt I had a choice.”

“Sure you do. We all have choices. We just don’t see them sometimes. Even I have a choice, in this ‘shithouse’ as Luke calls it. Any time it gets me down, I can walk out. But I don’t.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because they need me. And I love it I feel like I can’t walk out, but the point is, I can. I just don’t want to. Maybe you didn’t want to walk out of your world either. Maybe you still don’t want to. Maybe you’re not ready to yet. Could be you feel safe there. And why not? It’s familiar. And familiar is easy. Even if it’s the shits, it’s easy, because you know it. You never know the hell that is going to be out there.” He gestured vaguely with one arm as she nodded. He understood very well.

“You’re right. But I think I’m ready to leave the womb now. I also know that until now I haven’t been ready. That’s embarrassing to admit. Seems like at my age, I should have all that behind me, and be all squared away.”

“Bullshit. That takes a hell of a long time. I was thirty before I had the balls to leave my little Chicano world in L.A. and come here.”

“How old are you now?”

“Thirty-six.”

“You don’t look it.” She was surprised.

“Maybe not, querida , but I sure as hell feel it.” He laughed his soft velvety laugh, and the warm Mexican eyes danced. “Some days I feel eighty.”

“I know what you mean. Alejandro …” Her face grew serious.

“What, babe?” He thought he knew what was coming.

“You think Luke’s okay?”

“In what way?” Oh God, don’t let her ask. He couldn’t tell her. Luke had to do that himself, if he hadn’t already … but he should have by now.

“I don’t know. He’s so … well … so bold, I guess that’s the right word. He just does what he does and that’s it. I worry about his parole, about his safety, his life, everything. But he doesn’t seem to.” She wasn’t looking at him and he watched her hands; they were nervous and taut, playing games with her pen.

“No, he doesn’t worry about his parole, or his ass, or much of anything. That’s just Luke.”

“Do you think he’s going to get his ass in a jam one day? Like maybe killed?” She couldn’t help thinking of Morrissey. Her eyes came back to him, full of questions, and fear.

“If he has problems, Kezia, he’ll tell us.”

“Yeah. The day before the ceiling comes down.” She had learned that much about him. He never said a word till the last minute, about anything. “He doesn’t give one much warning.”

“No, Kezia. He doesn’t. That’s just his way.”

“One has to respect it, I suppose.”

He nodded very quietly, and wanted to reach out and touch her hand. But he couldn’t. All he could do was talk to Luke. He thought it was time.