“You know what I can’t handle anymore?”

“Yeah, dice. Lady, you play lousy.” But she loved it, and he was having a good time too.

“No, shut up. I’m being serious.”

“Excuse me.”

“Really, I am. The thing that I can’t handle is the pressure of pretense, and that whole way of life I grew up with is pretense to me now. I can’t talk openly about Luke without creating a scandal. I can’t show anyone that I hurt. I can’t even be me. I have to be The Honorable Kezia Saint Martin.”

“Maybe that’s because you happen to be the Honorable Kezia Saint Martin. Ever think of that?” He rolled the dice in his hands.

“Yes, but I’m not ‘that’ Kezia Saint Martin. Not anymore. I’m me. And I keep worrying, thinking I’m going to blurt it all out or call someone an asshole, or throw a quiche Lorraine in somebody’s face.”

“Sounds like fun. Why not try it?” She roared with laughter as they sat in front of the fire, her legs tucked under her.

“Someday I might just try it. But that, my friend, would be the ultimate grand finale. Can’t you see it in Time magazine? ‘Kezia Saint Martin flipped out at a party on Friday and threw a lemon meringue pie that sprayed five guests. The victims of Miss Saint Martin’s temporary insanity were the Countess von …’ et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Do they serve lemon meringue pies at those parties?” He looked faintly curious.

“No. I guess I’d have to settle for baked Alaska.”

He chuckled at the thought, and reached out and stroked her now dry hair. It was warm from the fire.

“Kezia, love, you’ve got to gain back some weight.”

“Yeah. I know.” They shared a small tender smile, and then with a gleam in his eyes, he rolled the dice in his hands, blew on them and threw, closing both eyes.

“Snake eyes, or bust!”

Kezia chuckled at the results, pinched his nose, and whispered in his ear, “In that case, Mr. Vidal, it’s bust. Hey, you asshole, open your eyes.” But instead he reached out unexpectedly and swept an arm around her waist. “What are you doing, you nut?” His face was barely a breath away from hers, and she thought it was funny. It wasn’t funny to him.

“What am I doing? Making an ass of myself of course.” He opened both eyes and made a clown’s face, checked out the dice and shrugged, but there was a hint of pain in his eyes. How dense could she be? But it was, perhaps, for the best.

He got to his feet and stretched slowly in front of the fire, watching the flames lick at the logs. He had his back to the still chuckling Kezia. “You know what, little one? You’re right I can’t stand the pressure of pretense anymore either.”

“It’s a bitch, isn’t it?” She was sympathetic as she munched on a cookie. It was the first time in weeks that she hadn’t had a drink all evening.

“Yeah … it’s a bitch. The pressure of pretense,’ how well you put it.” She thought he was referring to his job.

“I’m an expert on the subject” But she wasn’t in the mood to be serious. Not with him; they had had too happy an evening. “What brought that into your mind?” The words were garbled in cookie crumbs. She looked up but his back was still turned to her.

“Nothing. Just a thought.”


Chapter 31


They traveled in coach and the flight was dull. The movie was one Kezia had already seen with Luke, and Alejandro had brought some professional journals to read. They spoke during the meal, but the rest of the time he left her alone. He knew how tense she was, and this time he was not amused when she brought out the flask.

“Kezia, I don’t think you should.”

“Why not?” She looked almost hurt.

“Drink what they serve you, that ought to be enough.” He wasn’t preaching, but he sounded very firm. The tone of his voice embarrassed her more than his words, and she put it away. When the drinks came around, she ordered one scotch, and turned down the second.

“Satisfied?”

“It’s not my life, sister. It’s yours.” He went back to his reading, and she to her own thoughts. He was an odd man at times. Independent, lost in his own doings, and then at other times he took such pains with her. She more than suspected that he was making the trip mostly for her, to be sure she would be all right, and he could have lost his job for that.

They had made reservations at the Ritz, and she felt a thrill of excitement ripple through her as they drove toward the city. The skyline began to show as they cleared the last bend, and then suddenly there it was. The new modern cathedral on Gough, the brown licorice silhouette of the Bank of America building, and the lick of fog rolling in from the bay. She realized now how she had longed to see it again. The bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge, with Sausalito and Belvedere and Tiburon twinkling like a forest of Christmas trees at night, if there wasn’t too much fog. And if there was, she would close her eyes, breathe deeply of the fresh sea air, and listen to the lonely bleating of the fog horns. She knew that when she heard them again, Lucas would be listening to them too.

Alejandro watched her as they drove, and it touched him to see her like that. Excited, tense, combing the city with her eyes as though looking for something precious she had left there.

“You love this town too, don’t you, Kezia?”

“Yes, I do.” She sat back and looked at it with pleasure, as though she had built it herself.

“Because Luke brought you here?”

“Partly. But it’s something else too. Just the town, I guess. It’s so damnably pretty.” He smiled and looked over at her.

“Damnably, huh?”

“Okay, okay, so make fun of me. All I know is that I’m happy here.” Despite the brutal things that had happened there, she loved it. It had something no other city she knew had. Her thoughts drifted back to Luke again, and she couldn’t suppress a smile. “You know, it’s incredible, I’ve come three thousand miles to see him for an hour.”

“And something tells me you’d have come six thousand miles if you’d had to.”

“Maybe even twelve.”

“Even twelve? Are you sure?” He was teasing again, and she liked it. He was an easy companion.

“Alejandro, you’re a pest. But a nice pest.”

“I love you too.”

It was one in the morning in San Francisco, and four in the morning for them, but neither of them was sleepy.

“Want to go out for a drink, Alejandro?”

“No, I’d rather go for a ride.”

“The temperance society at my beck and call. How delightful.” She set her mouth primly and he laughed. “Mind your own business. After we drop off the stuff at the hotel, let’s go down to the bay.” They had rented a car at the airport and Alejandro was driving.

“At your service, madam. Isn’t that what you’re used to?”

“Yes and no. But one thing’s for sure, I’m not used to remarkable friends like you. You really are amazing.” Her voice had grown very soft. “I don’t think anyone’s ever done as much for me as you have. Not even Edward. He used to watch over me, but we were never this at ease with each other. I love him, but very differently. He always expected so much of me.”

“Like what?”

“Oh … to be everything I was born to, and more, I suppose.”

“And you are.”

“No, not really. The computer must have blended it all differently in me. Some of the pieces don’t fit, by his standards.”

“You miss the point. It’s your head that matters, your soul, your heart.”

“No, love. You miss the point. It’s the parties you go to, the clothes you wear, which committees you belong to.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Not anymore. But I used to be.” She was suddenly serious, but the moment fled as they arrived at the Ritz. Ernestine, wearing a green plaid flannel bathrobe, checked them in, looking faintly disapproving to see Kezia with Alejandro, and not Luke. But their separate rooms at opposite ends of the hall seemed to appease her. She padded back to bed, and they went back outside to the car.

“To the bay!” He was as excited as she.

“Thank you, Jeeves.”

“Certainly, madam.” They giggled together, and let the car bump over the hills on Divisadero Street. It felt like a roller coaster as the sharp swoops and drops lifted them off the seat.

“Want to stop for a taco?”

She smiled in answer and nodded her head. “Me, I get turned on by the bay. You, it’s the tacos. Welcome home.”

“And not a pizza in sight.”

“Don’t they have pizza out here?”

He made a face in response. “Yes, but we keep them under control. Not like New York. One of these days, a mad onslaught of crazed pizzas will take over the town.” He made fierce monster faces and she laughed.

“You’re a nut. Good heavens, look at that car!” They rolled into a drive-in food place on Lombard, and waiting at the window was a hot rod with the back all jacked up. “You’d think they’d fall on their faces.”

“Of course not. What a beauty … vrooommm … rooom!” He made the appropriate sounds and grinned broadly. “Haven’t you ever seen one like that?”

“Not that I can remember—and I daresay I’d remember—except maybe in a movie. What a horror!”

“Horror? It’s a beauty! Wash your mouth out with soap!”

She was laughing and shaking her head. “Don’t tell me you had one like that! I’d be shocked!”

“Well, I did. A lowrider special. My first car. After that I screwed up my image and got a secondhand VW. Life was never the same.”

“It sounds tragic.”

“It was. Did you have a car as a kid?” She shook her head, and his eyes opened wide in disbelief. “You didn’t? Christ, all kids in California have cars by the time they’re sixteen. I bet you’re lying. I’ll bet you had a Rolls. Come on, tell the truth!” She giggled, furiously shaking her head, as they drove up to the window to order their tacos.

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Vidal, that I did not have a Rolls! I borrowed a crumbling old Fiat when I stayed in Paris, and that was it I’ve never owned a car in my life.”

“What a disgrace. But your family had one, right?” She nodded. “Aha! And it was …” He waited.

“Oh, just a car. You know, four wheels, four doors, steering column, the usual stuff.”

“You’re telling me it was a Rolls?”

“It was not.” She grinned at him broadly and handed him the tacos that had just appeared at the window. “It was a Bentley. But my aunt has a Rolls, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Much. Now hand over those tacos. You may have come three thousand miles to see your old man. I came for the tacos. A Bentley … Jesus.” He took a bite of his taco and sighed rapturously. Kezia leaned back in her seat and began to unwind. It was comfortable being with him; she didn’t have to pretend. She could just be herself.

“You know something funny, Alejandro?”

“Yeah. You.” He was into his third taco.

“No, I’m being serious.”

“Yeah? How comer”

“Oh for chrissake, put a taco in you and you get all full of yourself.”

“No, I get gas.”

“Alejandro!”

“Well, I do. Don’t you ever get gas? Or is that bred out of your?”

She blushed as she laughed. “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that …”

“I’ll bet you fart in bed.”

“Alejandro, you’re awful. That’s a highly unsuitable remark.”

“Pobrecita.” He was a ceaseless tease when he was in a good mood, but she liked it. He had been so quiet on the plane, but now the atmosphere was festive again.

“What I was trying to tell you, Mr. Vidal, before you got outrageous …”

“Outrageous? Fancy that!” He had switched from tacos to root beer and took a long swallow.

“What I’m trying to tell you …” she lowered her voice, “is that the weird thing is, I have really come to need you. Isn’t that strange? I mean, I’d be totally lost without you. It’s so nice knowing you’re around.”

He was silent, with a distant look in his eyes. “Yeah. I feel that way too,” he said, finally. “It feels funny when I don’t see you for a couple of days. I like knowing you’re okay.”

“It’s nice to know that you care. I guess that’s what I feel, and it feels good. And I worry that maybe someone’s killed you on the subway when you don’t call.

“You know, that’s one of the things I like best about you.”

“What?”

“Your unfailing optimism. Your faith in the human race … killed on the subway…. Asshole. Why would I get killed on the subway?”

“Everyone else does. Why shouldn’t you?”

“Gee. Terrific. You know what I think, Kezia?”

“What?”

“That you fart in bed.”

“Oh, so we’re back on that again, are we? Alejandro, you’re a shit. And a rude, outrageous shit at that! Now drive me to the bay. And what’s more, I do not fart in bed!”