Rapture

Georgianne was there, ready to be won--of that Jeff had no doubt. She had been married to a twerp long enough for any passion to have died, and now her daughter, her only child, was about to leave home for college. It was a real turning point in Georgianne's life; a point of access and an advantage for Jeff. He wouldn't pass it up. He couldn't. Ideas blossomed like strange new flowers in his mind as he parked the car in the hotel lot and switched off the ignition. He sat there for a few moments, staring ahead but seeing nothing except his inner visions. Georgianne would fall into his arms, and Bonnie would come with her. Sean was on the way out; he just didn't know it yet. And why not? Why the fuck not? Jeff pounded the steering wheel with his fist and started to laugh.

"Take her,' he said aloud. 'I'll just take her!" And as he said this over and over again, he fell in love with the words, what they meant and the sheer beautiful sound of them. He seemed to be completing a sentence he'd begun to form during some previous incarnation.

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PART II

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A Friend

of the Family

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was nearly eleven in the morning when Jeff awoke. Saturday, the middle of June. He wasn't going to the office, not even for a few minutes. A change. But then, he'd been out drinking with Callie and Ted and a couple of other people after work the previous night, and that too was something of a change. While he showered, he wondered if he was beginning to drink too much. In the past, he had never been much of a socializer, and hardly ever drank. Never when he was alone.

The trip east had done it, he knew. He had downed a lot of beers and no small amount of spirits in Connecticut. Not out of any determination to do so; it had just happened that way. He had brought this renewed taste for alcohol back to California with him. The change was undeniable, and while he sometimes had his doubts, he was, in general, pleased with it. One of the first things he had done after his return was to stop at a package store and buy a supply of whiskey to have around the house. Some Scotch, which he enjoyed with ice and a little cold bottled water, some bourbon for when he wanted more of a kick, and some rye, which was a mistake, he discovered the first time he tried it. He continued to drink beer, but as little as possible, since it made him feel bloated, smelly, and leaky if he had much of it. Now-after his journey to Connecticut-he was no longer averse to having a drink with his colleagues after work. Nor did he feel bad about a large solo nightcap back in his condo.

Jeff dried himself, put on a black robe, and went into the kitchen, where he poured a glass of orange juice. Next he put the kettle on and spooned instant coffee into a cup. He had become a bit more sociable, that was all there was to it. And it was a good thing, he believed. Ted and Callie approved, and he could tell that others at Lisker-Benedictus had noticed the change.

The kettle whistled. Jeff filled the stoneware mug with boiling water and stirred it thoroughly, until it looked almost like real coffee, which he was too lazy to make today. Then he went out onto the small balcony off the living room and sat in a plastic deck chair. Every condominium in Ravenswood Estate was designed to afford a good view of the canyon and to provide maximum privacy. It hadn't been cheap, but to Jeff it was worth the cost.

He lit his first cigarette of the day. It had been five, maybe even six, weeks now since he'd seen Georgianne. No cards, letters, or telephone calls. But that was as he thought it should be. He would have been delighted if Georgianne had phoned him, but that was perhaps too much to hope for, and he had made no attempt to communicate with her. Only a week before, he had debated whether to send Bonnie a graduation card, but once again he had decided that it would be a mistake to force himself into their lives at this distance. A plan was taking shape in his head, and although he knew only the rough outline of it so far, he didn't want to ruin it by any precipitous action.

Georgianne was in his mind all the time now. After twenty years of being little more than a ghost, the object of vague and submerged yearnings, she had become the focal point of his conscious thought. At work he had to make an effort to concentrate, not to daydream about her. He had a whole new library of mental pictures to summon up and browse through lovingly whenever he liked. They went well with the lode of images of Georgianne in high school that came rushing back to him now. And then there was Bonnie, another person but somehow almost an alternate version of Georgianne. It wasn't hard for Jeff to see himself with both mother and daughter. That was the perfect picture.