"The night she got lucky" - читать интересную книгу автора (Donovan Susan)

CHAPTER 11

Please, help yourself. Take anything that you think you might need. Piers picked his way through his crowded spare bedroom, eventually reaching the doors of the walk-in closet, which turned out to be stockpiled with even more lock stands, reflectors, light meters, old camera bodies, lenses, teleconverters, ball heads, filters, shipping containers, some of it remnants of a predigital age.

Lucio examined the contents of the shelves, then studied the room, piled to the ceiling in some places with photo equipment and accessories. Have you never sold anything, Piers? Not given anything away? Do you still have every piece of equipment you've ever owned?

Piers chuckled. Well, you know, Sylvie and I have been in this apartment for ten years now. It's easy to become a packrat when you keep the same home base. Piers picked up an old handheld eight-millimeter camera and smiled sadly, turning it over in his hand. Some of this stuff is Sylvie's, you know. He set it back down. Like I said, help yourself.

I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it, Piers. Lucio examined a large aluminum reflector that was folded down in a corner. I am going to take pictures outside whenever possible, but I know I'll end up doing some studio work. He poked through the shelves, finding a few other things that might come in handy. I will have to buy a decent high-key backdrop.

I used to own one, but it's at Sylvie's parents' house in Devon.

Ah, well. Like I said, I will have to invest in one. Lucio stopped his perusal of shelves when a huge padded shipping envelope caught his eye. It was addressed to Piers, in Piers's own handwriting, and the postal stamp was from January. It had to have been Piers's submission for the Erskine Prize, Lucio knew. The committee would review an entry and send it back when it did not place. Lucio knew all about the process. He'd lost fourteen years in a row before he ever won.

May I look? Lucio asked, tapping the package. It was a request he wouldn't have dared make with most other colleagues. Photographers could be a competitive bunch, and many would not be comfortable showing their contest portfolio to someone who took the same kind of pictures. But he and Piers had never had that barrier between them.

Of course you can see it, Piers said.

Lucio pulled the leather-bound case from the envelope and opened it. Like his own portfolio, Piers's submission would have had to include ten pictures, one per category, representing at least ten of the fifteen categories determined by the board. The Erskine Prize was designed to show a photographer's rangefrom wide-angle views of an entire ecosystem to close-ups of plants, animals, and miniature landscapes as seen through a macro lens.

His friend's work was elegant and inventive. Lucio took a moment to carefully study Piers's submission in the category for naturally occurring texture, pattern, color, or form. This is outstanding, Lucio said, admiring the complexities of the Gobi Desert at sunset. Piers's unusual perspective and precise timing had captured an illusion, where the rippling sand seemed to morph into the waves of an ocean.

That was my only overseas trip last year, Piers said, his head nodding toward the photo Lucio held in his hands. I could not travel much because of Sylvie's illness.

Your stuff is top-level, as always. Lucio closed the portfolio and smiled at him. I have always felt honored to have had the chance to work with you.

Piers stood quietly, his hand propped against the edge of a small desk. He smiled warmly at Lucio. And I have been honored to work with you, Lucky.

Lucio shook his head and began to chuckle. And now now I will become a renowned pet photographer!

The two of them shared a laugh. Lucio slipped the leather case back into the mailing envelope and returned it to the closet shelf that seemed to be the dumping ground for paperwork. Lucio smiled at the stacks of travel documents, visa applications, expense forms, receipts, and Piers's passport. Like Lucio's, the passport was thickened with the dozens of extra pages needed to accommodate his travel, and he let his fingers brush over the cover, a twinge of longing moving through him.

Ilsa Knauss, Piers said out of nowhere, jerking Lucio's attention away from his silly sentimentality.

Ah, yes, Lucio said. I must admit I haven't had a chance to track her down.

But I have, Piers said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. She's in London. I e-mailed her a few days ago and she just got back to me. And guess where she was four months ago?

Lucio's mouth opened. China?

Even betterJiangxi Province.

You're joking.

No. Let me show you our e-mail exchanges. I think it's enough to get the police involved. Piers gestured for Lucio to walk with him out the guest-room door. So, do you really think this scheme of yours will work? Piers asked.

Lucio saw the concern in his friend's frown. The pet photography business? Yes! I do! Lucio shut the closet behind him and followed Piers into the hallway. Genevieve and I have been brainstorming. She's already got three of her friends and their dogs on the calendar. We even have a name for the company.

Piers raised an eyebrow. Really?

Petography.

Ah, Piers said with a nod. Clever. They'd reached the living room and Piers sat down in his computer chair, turning on the power to the desktop.

We will become San Francisco's only high-concept, fantasy photo studio for pets and their owners. Here. Lucio dug around in his back pocket. Genevieve and her boys came up with this.

Piers unfolded the piece of printer paper with a mock-up of the company's Web page and began to read out loud. ‘Does your Maine coon cat have the soul of Cleopatra? Does your Akita possess the heart of a samurai? Does your pug parade around like a prince?'

Piers looked up from the document, dazed, then read the rest out loud. ‘Let San Francisco's only pet-centered fantasy photography studio capture your and your pet's unique personalities'. He handed it back to Lucio. Impressive, he said. Now, I must ask you something.

Of course.

Who the hell is Genevieve?

Lucio laughed, plopping down in an armchair next to the computer desk. I am sorry. Genevieve is Ginger Garrison. The same woman I've spoken of before. I discovered that Genevieve is her given name and, I have to say, it fits her better.

Now both of Piers's eyebrows were high on his forehead.

Yes, well, we are seeing each other, Lucio told him. I decided to find out if she is that special woman I think she might be. But, of course, I already know she is special. I only mean Lucio stopped, flustered. You know what I mean.

Piers blinked a few times.

I realize this is not my usual way of talking about a woman, Lucio said, taking note of his friend's stunned expression. It made sensePiers had seen him with dozens of women over the years. And Lucio was fairly certain that Sylvie had revealed everything to Piers about her wildbut briefaffair with Lucio. It could not have been a flattering portrait.

Piers laughed softly, shaking his head. He clicked on a few keys of his computer. When did all this happen? he asked. The last I heard you were going to stay clear of the woman. You said you didn't have the kind of stability she deservedno job, no money, no home, a hairbreadth from prison, a horrible example for her sons

The Host! Lucio shouted in surprise, waving his hand in the air. You make me sound like a a vagabundo!

Bum?

Exactly.

But those were your words, not mine! Piers smiled.

Perhaps I was overly dramatic at the time. Lucio craned his neck to see the computer screen. I'd like to come by with Jason to load up the equipment I'm borrowing. Just let me know when it will be convenient for you.

Piers grinned. I won't even ask who this Jason person is.

Oh, Lucio said, aware that he was smiling. Jason is one of Genevieve's sons. He is almost sixteen. I have agreed to let him be my photographer's assistant.

Piers let go with a full-out belly laugh, the first Lucio had heard from his old friend since he'd arrived in San Francisco. The fact that Piers could produce such a guffaw was good. The fact that he was laughing at Lucio's expense was not so good.

I am glad you find this so amusing, Lucio said.

Piers scrolled through his e-mail in-box, looking for his give-and-take with Ilsa. He turned to Lucio, shaking his head, still chuckling. Please don't be offended, Lucky, but you have to admit it's bizarre. I have never heard you talk like this. In all the years I've known you, I have never heard you use the phrases ‘seeing somebody' or ‘somebody special.' Piers shot a glance over his shoulder. And this is surely the first time your assistant has not been gorgeous, starstruck, and female!

Piers was rightabout all of it.

Are you sure you want to get chummy with her son?

You make it sound like a mistake.

It's just a big step, that's all. Piers returned his attention to the computer. Okay. Here. Take a look at this. I e-mailed her five days ago and she got back to me yesterdaythen all this!

Lucio scooted the chair closer to the screen and leaned forward to read. He wasn't exactly shocked by what he sawIlsa had most certainly called him a bastard and an asshole to his face that day at the airport, so why not say it again in writing? But the fact that she was still so livid surprised him.

Piers scrolled down to his first e-mail exchange between himself and Ilsa. She wrote: Oh, by the way, while I was in China I had a chance to even the score with Lucky in a way that I'm sure has gotten his attention. Do you know if he got my gift? The next time you see him, please send him my regards. LOL!

?Hostia! Lucio stared at Piers. The woman is unbelievable!

Piers nodded. In addition to the police, I think we should send it Geographica, the State Department, and the Erskine Prize committee.

Lucio ran a hand through his hair, suddenly agitated. Jesus, Piers, he said, shaking his head. Look, print out a copy of these, will you? I'll call Sydney and ask him what he suggests.

No problem. Piers reached over and turned on the printer that sat on a shelf beneath his desk. We finished off the Rioja the last time you were here, but would you care for a beer? Coffee? Tea?

No, but thank you, Lucio said, his mind elsewhere. I need to get back.

Hot date tonight?

Piers had already gone to get himself a beer from the refrigerator.

Lucio frowned, impatient for the printer to warm up.

Piers returned from the kitchen, still chuckling, twisting off the bottle cap and taking a few large gulps. Forgive me, Lucky, he said. I can't help but tease you a little. You have to admit the turn of events is amusing.

How so?

Piers shrugged, leaning up against one of the pillars that separated the living area from his kitchen. It almost sounds like you're ready to settle down with this woman, you know, actually take advantage of your U.S. citizenship and stay a while. I never thought I'd see the day! Piers raised his bottle in Lucio's direction. Skal! he cheered. To you and Genevieve!

Lucio tried to smile, though aware of the irony that Piers had lost the love of his life just as Lucio had found his.

He felt his eyes widen. Is that how he saw Genevieve? Could she be the love of his life? Things had moved alarmingly fast, he knew, but maybe the old preacher woman had been right. Maybe Lucio had been waiting for Genevieve.

Perhaps he'd always been waiting for her.

You sure you don't want a beer? Piers asked, moving back to the computer and hitting the print key. You look like you could use a drink all of a sudden.

Ha! No. Lucio pulled himself together. So when will it be convenient for Jason and me to stop by?

Tomorrow would be fine. If I'm not here, please let yourself in. Piers set down his beer and retrieved the pages from the printer. Here you go.

Listen, Piers Lucio had already headed to the door but turned back toward his friend. We are having a get-together Sunday evening at Rick Rousseau's home in Sonoma. I would love it if you could join us.

Piers seemed surprised by the invitation. What's the occasion? Who's coming?

We're having a launch party for Petography. You can meet Rick's wife, Josie. And Genevieve will be there. I'd love for you to meet her. And Genevieve's friend Roxanne

A tiny crinkle formed between Pier's eyebrows. Lucio immediately regretted mentioning Roxanne, knowing his friend was notoriously uncomfortable in social situations and certainly not ready to meet someone new.

Piers quickly changed the subject. I haven't seen Rick since the funeral. Did I tell you he traveled to England for the service?

No, Piers had never mentioned that, and the subtle dig was not lost on Lucio. I know Rick would love to see you, he said.

I'm leaving for New York on Friday, unfortunately.

Really? Lucio smiled, knowing the trip likely meant a new assignment for Piers. Anything you want to tell me?

Piers laughed. Not quite yet, he said, grinning. What I'm saying is that I may not be home by Sunday. But if I am, I will try to make it.

Lucio thanked him for the e-mails. They shared a hearty embrace and he told Piers he'd see him Sunday, though he knew he wouldn't show.

Ginger met up with the girls Wednesday morning. As predicted, she'd canceled on Monday. She'd been a disheveled, exhausted wreck, and besides, she really did end up walking kind of funny. The last thing she needed was for eagle-eyed Bea to make an issue of it.

So Ginger spent Wednesday morning getting caught up with everyone. The earthquake had thrown books from the shelves at Bea's place. Roxie lost a few wine glasses and Lilith had freaked out. But Josie and Rick had felt nothing up in Sonoma.

Teeny had to take a couple Valiums, though, Josie said of Rick's best friend, a former Syracuse cornerback with a big heart and a fear of earthquakes.

Poor baby, Bea said. I'm looking forward to seeing him Sunday. It's been too long.

Ginger smiled. It amazed her how her circle of friends had instantly expanded to include Rick and Teeny. She could hardly remember a time when they hadn't been part of their group. While Josie and Rick were on their honeymoon, Teeny even joined the women for a drink once a week. They'd made him an honorary member of their girls-only club, a distinction Teeny embraced as only an openly gay man could.

Good news, Bea announced. I have at least ten more people from my canine agility organization interested in photos.

That's fabulous! Ginger said. Lucio will be thrilled.

Rick said he's talked to a few customers about the pet photography idea and they've been enthusiastic, Josie said. He's just waiting on the posters.

Excellent! Ginger said.

How long have you been sleeping with him? Roxie asked.

Ginger stopped walking. So did everyone else.

Seriously, Ginger, you didn't think we'd miss that development, did you? Bea gave her a crooked smile. I'll try not to be indelicate here, but you have the blissed-out look of a woman who's just hit the fucking mother lode.

Roxie shook her head. Good work, Bea. That wasn't indelicate at all.

My God, Josie whispered, grabbing Ginger's arm. That was fast.

Ginger winced, wishing she could disappear. She'd thought her best friends wouldn't notice anything different about her. How stupid could she have been?

You're even walking funny, Bea added.

All right, Ginger said, trying to gain control of the conversation. Can't I have a smidgen of privacy? I mean, really! I am an adult woman with my own life to live!

Josie shook her head to the contrary. Privacy didn't even enter into the equation when I was getting to know Rick. She narrowed her eyes at Ginger. At least %we're not spying on you!

Ginger truly regretted doing that to Josie, who had a valid point.

So? Roxie asked impatiently. What's the story with Rico Suave?

Oh, boy. Ginger had no idea where she'd begin or how much she'd reveal to her friends. It wasn't like she was obligated to tell them anything. Just because they'd invaded Josie's privacy didn't mean they could turn around and do the same to hertwo wrongs and all that.

I really wish you wouldn't call him ‘Rico Suave,' Ginger said. He's not a cartoon character. He's a remarkable mancreative, funny, charming. He just happens to look like a sex god. And the boys love him. And he's the best damn She paused. Anyway, I think I'm already

Ginger stopped herself, suddenly aware of the astonished expressions around her. My God! What had she been about to say? Out loud? For everyone to hear?

You're already what? Bea asked, her neck ratcheting forward. What? What? What?

There had been no closure for Ginger, so she really had no definitive answer for them. Once Lucio and the boys had devoured pancakes, bacon, and eggs, her new boyfriend had helped clean up and made his excuses for a rapid departure. He kissed Ginger on the cheek, right in front of the boys, and told her he'd talk to her later.

Lucio had called that night. They'd talked briefly, mostly tossing around ideas for the photo business, the boys hanging on her every word and making their own suggestions. He phoned once on Monday and again on Tuesday, but Ginger didn't pick up. She couldn't help thinking that Lucio was calling so he could say he did, though he was just as conflicted as she was. She sent her ideas for the Web page to him in an e-mail instead. She needed a little time and space to regroup, to let the hormonal chaos subside.

Unfortunately, there had been no subsiding. She would be seeing Lucio on Friday for the photo shoot, if not sooner, and she wasn't anywhere near her usual clearheaded self.

Ginger? Bea was still waiting for an answer.

You weren't about to say that you've already fallen in love with him, were you? Roxanne looked worried.

Josie patted Ginger's shoulder. I'd be the last person to judge someone for falling in love too fast. I sure could have used your support while it was happening for me, but I just didn't think I could share it with you guys at the time.

Ginger nodded. That must have been hard for Josie, falling in love with Rick immediately after their little group had made a solemn vow to be done with men forever and be content with their dogs.

Josie smiled sweetly at Ginger. But the situation is different now, right? she asked. We've promised not to hide stuff from one another again. We're here to help you, Ginger. We are your friends. Right?

Ginger nodded, the emotion rising up from her chest and into her throat. Maybe her pals really could help her sort out all these contradictory feelings. Maybe she'd be a fool to not take advantage of their collective wisdom.

She looked at the faces of her friends. They had circled her protectively as Dolores Park came to life, more dogs and owners showing up as the sun rose in the sky.

All right, she said, taking a deep breath for courage. It's a long story. Remember the night we went to dinner with Mrs. Needleman? Well, when I got back, Lucio we I well, it started when I went out to sit in the dark and look at the moon. I guess I got a little tipsy.

Let me get this straight, Bea said, looking incredulous. You went out therealone'to get drunk and howl at the moon?

To look at the moon, Ginger said. She was about to assure Bea that there'd been no howling that night, but that wouldn't have been entirely truthful. And I was only a little, you know, uninhibited at the time.

Who cares about the moon? Roxie said, bugging out her eyes. What happened with you and Lucio?

Ginger sighed. Well, remember the sex buffet Bea talked about?

Bea's eyes widened.

Day-um, Roxanne whispered.

No! Josie yelled, clearly confused. I have no idea what you're talking about! What sex buffet? I don't even know what a sex buffet is! Somebody fill me in!

At that moment, a guy walked by with his border collie, chuckling to himself.

Keep it down, will you? Ginger groaned, flipping her hair away from her face. Maybe we should just go get a cup of coffee. That way the entire San Francisco dog-walking community won't have to hear the lurid details of my outrageous sex life.

I'll meet you at Starbucks, Bea said, who clucked for Martina to heel and turned to leave the park.

But you hate Starbucks! Roxanne called after her. What happened to the whole ‘global enslavement through caffeine intoxication' theory?

Bea shook her head but didn't look back. Fuck that, she mumbled. I'm going to need to alter my brain chemistry in some way before I hear the rest of Ginger's story.

The other women gathered their dogs and followed after Bea.

It's not really that bad, is it? Josie's hopeful face scanned Ginger's as they headed to the park exit.

Ginger tried valiantly to smile, but gave up. God, Joze. I can't lie. It's pretty bad. Or good. However you want to look at it.

Roxie frowned at her. On a scale of one to

Sixteen, Ginger interrupted.

But the scale only goes to ten.

Sixteen, Ginger said.

Day -um, Roxie repeated.

But what do I know about sex, really? Ginger let loose with a desperate laugh. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now that I've had sex like that! I have no frame of reference for what's happened to me in the last few weeks! I'm realizing that I've been cheated my whole life, that I didn't know the first thing about sex or love while married to Larry. I had no idea it could be the way it is with Lucio!

Whoa, Josie said, bringing Ginger to a stop. Take a breath, sweetie.

Ginger waved her hands around frantically, tears filling her eyes. I don't want to breathe! I want to scream! For twenty years Larry's been telling me I was dining on chateaubriand and now I find out that it was freakin' Spam the whole time!

Roxie and Josie stiffened and leaned backward, as though they were being hit with gale-force winds.

You know who I feel like? Ginger continued to wave her hands around, a lump of desperation growing in her chest. I feel like that woman in the vegetable juice commercial, you know, the one who smacks herself in the forehead and says, ‘I coulda had a V8!' only I'm a lot more pissed off about it than she was!

Roxanne and Josie exchanged glances. Day-um! they said in stereo.

I'm going home to take an extremely cold shower now, Roxie said, sighing.

I really need to call Rick, Josie said, squirming.

I should go to work, Bea said, checking her cell phone for the tenth time.

Because Ginger's friends were trying to avoid eye contact as they sat around the sidewalk table, she knew she'd been smart to leave out most of the details from her and Lucio's sexual smackdown. The general overview had left them plenty uncomfortable.

It wasn't as if the group didn't discuss sexthey did. Often. But Ginger knew her story of lust on the lawn and panties in the pocket and getting naked on the foyer floor and bubbles and candles and earthquakes had left them a little shaky. She knew how they felt.

Ginger sighed, noticing how Roxanne had started wiping her overheated forehead with a Starbucks napkin. Josie was fidgeting in her chair and stroking her neck. Bea just looked smug, no doubt mulling over the information Ginger had shared about Lucio's steady diet of world travel and brief encounters.

Don't even think of saying it, Bea, Ginger warned, pointing in her direction.

What? You mean I shouldn't say ‘I told you so'?

Lucio is not the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life, Ginger said. I don't know what he isyet. He might turn out to be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Or, not. Bea shrugged.

The four women sat in silence for a while, their dogs asleep at their feet. They'd been talking for nearly two hours. The conversation may have been hot, but Ginger's latte had long ago gone cold.

Well, what does everybody think? Ginger asked. You now have a pretty good idea what I'm dealing with here. What do you think I should do?

Everyone looked blank.

Should I listen to my heart and not my fear, like Mrs. Needleman said? Or should I just chalk this up as a once-in-a-lifetime bit of insanity and get out before my heart gets flattenedlike Bea thinks it will?

I never said that. Bea folded her hands on the tabletop.

But you want to, Ginger said.

Roxie shook her head slowly. Look, I can't tell you what to do, but I'll tell you one thingI'm not getting within a hundred yards of that crazy old Mrs. Needleman again. She's put some kind of weird mojo on you and Josie, and I want none of it.

Let me ask you this, Bea said to Ginger, her voice quite serious. What exactly is your biggest fear about Lucio?

Ginger fiddled with the cardboard coffee sleeve on her cup while she thought that through. Oh, you knowthat he'll leave, she said with a shrug. That one day he'll fly off somewhere, the way he's done all his life, and I'll be left here insanely in love with a man I can never have. Ginger looked around the table. That scares the hell out of me.

And rightly so, Bea said with a nod.

But he made a promise to you, didn't he? Josie bit her lip before she went on. He promised he'd stay here long enough for the two of you to get to know each other. He said he wouldn't go unless he talked it over with you.

He did, Ginger said with a bitter laugh. But all that means is he's willing to give me a heads-up before he disappears!

Bea laughed, too. In an overexaggerated Spanish accent she said, Adios, senoreeeta. I will be sure to send a postcard from Arr-ghhhhhen-teena.

Ginger rolled her eyes.

But do you trust him? Josie asked.

With what?

With everythingyour kids, your dog, your heart? Do you trust him?

Actually, yes, Ginger said. That's another scary thingthere's no real reason for me to trust him, but I do. I don't even know his whole story yet. But somehow, trusting him feels right. He feels right. I can't explain it.

I think that's what Mrs. Needleman was getting at, Josie said, smiling wistfully. It was the same for Rick and me. I had to decide if I trusted him. I had to listen to what my gut was telling me.

I hate to be the one to add some reality into this conversation, but someone has to do it, Roxanne said, ending a long stretch of silence. Here's the deal, Ginger. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between gut feelings and below-the-belt crazy-monkey-lust, do you know what I'm saying? So just be sure that when you're listening to your gut, it isn't some other organ doing the talking.

Bea wagged an eyebrow and chuckled.

Roxanne continued. In my experience, the hotter the sex, the harder the fall. She tilted her head to study Ginger. And sooner or later there's going to be a fall. Trust me on this oneyou can't have great sex and a great relationship with the same man. You're going to have to settle for one or the other. It's a universal law.

Bea nodded in approval.

Ginger burst out with a laugh. Or, you can be married to Larry Garrison and have neither! Woo-hoo!

That's complete garbage! Josie's sharp reprimand was directed toward Roxanne, and the two friends stared at each other in silence. After an awkward moment, Josie turned her attention to Ginger. Listen to me when I tell you that you really can get it all in one place. I'm living proof. And if it could happen to me, it can happen for you or Roxie or any woman.

That's exactly what Mrs. Needleman said! Ginger sat up taller in her chair.

I've had all the Mrs. Noodle-brain I can take for one morning. Roxie rose from her chair and pulled a sleepy Lilith to her feet. I won't be able to make it FridayI have an early appointment with my Web designerso I'll see you guys at Josie's on Sunday. Want to drive up with me, Bea?

Sure.

Roxie's eyes flashed briefly at Josie and then moved on to Ginger. Just protect yourself.

Ginger nodded soberly. We're using condoms.

Roxie laughed, but a sadness crept into her eyes. I was referring to the emotional kind of protection, but condoms are always a swell idea. She fiddled with Lilith's leash, her gaze softening. The only thing worse than having a guy abandon you has got to be having a guy abandon you when you're pregnant with his kid. Nobody wants that.

Ginger gasped, suddenly panicked. I'm not going to get pregnant! That's ridiculous! She looked at Bea and Josie for confirmation. I'm in the beginning stages of menopause, you know.

Ppphhhhtttt! Bea said, dismissing Ginger with a flap of her hand. Even if you were, which you aren't, that doesn't mean jack. Just ask my mother.

What do you mean? This was new information for Ginger, and she didn't much like it.

Imogene Latimer never planned on having children, right? I'm her only spawn. She's ninety-eight years old, and I'm fifty-three. You do the math, girls.

Ginger gulped.

See you Sunday, Rox! Josie called out as Roxanne turned to go.

See you guys Sunday, Roxie said, not looking back.