Rapture

It would have to do, he decided. He didn't want to take it any further by calling the Maddoxes or Georgianne's brother in Chicago. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked the new situation. He had no doubt that Mrs. Slaton would keep her word and tell Georgianne about his call. It wasn't just an obligation, but something she would want to do. She knew Jeff from the old days and surely she'd want her daughter to talk with an old friend. Especially at a time like this. And Georgianne would have to return his call. That was it. Georgianne was incapable of being so rude as to ignore his call. All Jeff had to do was sit back and wait a little longer, a week, two at most. Georgianne would get in touch with him. And about time, too. Yes, he had done the right thing. It was turning out better than he had hoped.

A month later, he wasn't so sure. Thanksgiving was only a few days away. Georgianne had to be in Tampa again, to spend the holiday with her mother and brother. Where else could she be? Chicago, with the other brother? Possible, Jeff thought, but unlikely. The weather in Chicago would remind her too much of Connecticut, and Thanksgiving would be hard enough to take without that.

He hadn't heard a word from her. No call, no message, not even a click on the answering machine connected to his home phone. It didn't seem possible. Jeff didn't like it. It was worse than rude, it was a dismissal of their friendship, of ... everything.

It didn't make Jeff bitter; it frightened him. What was he supposed to do? Hit the road and track her down? Then what? No, he didn't like it at all. The possibilities seemed to be narrowing to a single dark option. He would hold off as long as possible, because when you acted out of desperation you were no longer in control of things. For the last year and a half, he had followed an elaborate, evolving plan. He didn't always understand it, and at times he thought he was just drifting aimlessly, but at every crucial point the plan had worked, and his instincts had proved correct. It would be a disastrous mistake to rush things now. Patience and perseverance were still the order of the day, and faith. With the right moves at the right time, sooner or later she would fall into his waiting arms.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"It's been a great week," Georgianne said happily. "The best week I've had in quite a while. Thanks to you."

"So stay," Jan said with a bright smile. "Take my word for it, you won't find a better place to live."

"I'm not arguing. I like what I see."

And, Georgianne thought, You saved my life. Well, that might be an exaggeration, but there was no denying the fact that she had turned a corner since coming to visit Janice Tillotson. The two of them had been roommates at college in Boston, and had stayed in touch over the years with Christmas cards and the occasional letter or phone call, but they hadn't seen each other in a long time.

"You've been here-"

"Eleven years," Jan finished proudly. "And I'm never leaving. I've worked in Boston, Philadelphia, Houston, and ... let's see ... oh, Denver. Denver wasn't bad, but you can have 'em all. This is the place."

an was a nurse, had a broken marriage behind her and was "decidedly and permanently" single. She lived in her own cozy little ranch house and drove a perky old MG, lovingly cared for, that she was determined would last a million miles or the rest of her life, whichever came first.

When Georgianne stepped off the shuttle flight at the municipal airport, Jan had been there to hug her, hold her, and brush a few tears away. And from that moment everything started to get better. Jan was positive and full of life, and fifteen years of hospital work hadn't put a dent in her cheerful, optimistic nature. The darkness was squeezed out; it was as if she literally had pulled Georgianne around a corner and into the daylight.

Sean and Bonnie were mentioned hardly at all, to Georgianne's unexpected relief. It just wasn't necessary. Jan's sympathy and sorrow were communicated without words, and that was enough. For the first time, Georgianne didn't feel she was being treated like some special creature nobody knew what to do with-the bereaved. The years apart meant nothing. She and Jan were two friends together again, happy and comfortable in each other's presence.

Thanksgiving passed painlessly. Jan had taken the week off, and they'd been busy every waking hour. They even went to a couple of night clubs-something Georgianne wouldn't have dreamed of doing only a week before-not to pick up anyone, but for the simple pleasure of dancing until they were exhausted.

It was Sunday evening now, and Jan would be back at the hospital in the morning, but she wanted Georgianne to stay on in Santa Barbara.

"I think I'll rent a car and go for a drive tomorrow," Georgianne said, unfolding a road map and spreading it out on the coffee table.