Rapture

He spent more time socializing with his colleagues now. He ate, drank, and even took in a couple of Dodger games with them, and enjoyed all of it. He stayed away from Diane though. She was a whore, and he no longer liked the idea of having his dreams serviced by a whore. It seemed wrong, now that the way to Georgianne was clear. Diane was good at her job, one of the best, but he didn't need her any more.

All this time, too, he waited. He watched the days go by, one after another, a week, two, a month. He was patient, and sure of himself. He found that it was even possible to savor the slow but relentless passage of time, the exquisite delay, the smoldering anticipation. It was a kind of mental foreplay.

He waited until the third week of September. That was time enough, he judged, for Georgianne and Bonnie to recover. Georgianne would be getting back to the business of coping with everyday life. Bonnie would be at Harvard, most likely trying to lose herself in her studies. That was as it should be. Jeff held back a few days more and then, on a Tuesday evening, picked up the telephone to call Georgianne. He had a large drink and a fresh pack of cigarettes at hand. It would be nine-thirty at night back in Connecticut.

Third ring. "Hello." Voice subdued.

"Hi, Georgianne." Cheerful, carefree. "This is Jeff." Pause, no response. Nearly five months since he'd last spoken with her. The shock. Understandable. "Jeff Lisker."

"Oh ... Jeff." A slight laugh. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking. How are you? Where are you?"

"I'm fine and I'm home, in California."

"Oh. I thought you might be in Danbury on business."

"Well, that's one of the reasons I'm calling. I am going to be in Danbury soon."

"Oh. That's nice." Another pause. She sounded friendly, but vague and distracted. A pendulum swinging back and forth, in and out of the conversation. "Jeff, I have to tell you something," Georgianne said reluctantly.

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"I should have called you...."

Her voice, tiny and strangled now, faded again. She should be over it by now, Jeff thought anxiously. But raw grief billowed out of the telephone in his hand like some noxious gas.

"Georgianne, are you all right? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I should have called you, Jeff, but I haven't been very efficient about anything lately." She spoke quietly, but she sounded more composed. "Jeff, I lost my husband. Sean is dead." A definite waver in the voice, followed by a brief gasp.

Jeff waited a couple of seconds. Then: "What?"

"It's true. Someone killed him last month."

Again the proper shocked pause. "Georgianne, no. I don't believe it. What on earth ... ?"

"I don't know, I really don't know. Someone shot him one morning while he was out jogging, and ... it's ... I still don't understand any of it."

"My God, that's terrible. Who did it?" Jeff demanded.

"I don't know. No one knows, except ..."

"Jesus, it's unbelievable. It must have been an absolute nightmare for you and Bonnie. You should have called me, Georgianne. I'd have come back right away."

"Thanks, Jeff, I know you would. But I didn't think ... Anyhow, my family was here, and Sean's of course...."

"And you say the police haven't found the bastard who did it? What are they doing?"

"No, they haven't, and I don't know what they're doing." Almost a whisper, but as cold and dry as a night wind coming out of the desert. "I'll tell you about it sometime, Jeff, but I really don't feel like talking about it now. Not on the phone."

.Of course, of course," Jeff said soothingly. "But tell me how you are now, and Bonnie."

"We're all right, I guess. Bonnie's at Harvard-she went last week. I think she's starting, just starting, to get over it. I hope her classes will help. Keep her busy."

"Sure."

"I call her every night. I have to; I'm so terrified of her being alone up there. I have to hear her voice before I can get any sleep ... not that I'm getting much anyway."

"She'll be all right," Jeff said authoritatively. "It may take her awhile, but I got the impression that she's a strong person, with a lot of character as well as intelligence."

"Yes ..."

"And you. How are you now?"

"Functioning, more or less. It's hard, Jeff, it's ... so damned ... hard."

"I can imagine. Listen, is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all? Don't ask, just tell me, and it'll be done at once."

"No, not really. But thanks, Jeff. Everyone's been very kind to us ... well, most people. And there are no real problems about money or the house, or anything like that."

"Good. You don't need any extra headaches."

Jeff wanted very much to cheer her up, but he couldn't find the right words, and it annoyed him. She was still deeply caught up in Sean's death. Time was the only thing that would haul her out of it. Jeff felt helpless, concerned.

"So, I just have to get myself back together," Georgianne said wanly. "I'm not as tough as Bonnie, you know. It devastated her, of course, both of us, but she was terrific all through the wake and the funeral. So good and strong and brave ..."