She was almost grateful that the city was cut off. She needed the time to absorb it before the roof fell in on them. But then again, if the earthquake hadn't hit the city, none of this would have happened. He would have sent the money back to Sully, so he could cook his own books. And then, at some point, they would have done it again, and maybe gotten caught later. Sooner or later it would have had to happen. No one was that clever, or got away with a crime of this magnitude forever. It was so simple it was pathetic, and so dishonest that it boggled the mind.
“Are you going to leave me, Sarah?” That would have been the icing on the cake for him. He wanted her to stand by him, and she didn't look as though she would. Sarah had extremely rigid ideas about honesty and integrity. She set extremely high standards for herself and everyone else. He had violated them all. He had even put their family at risk, which he suspected would be the final straw for her. Family was sacred to her. She lived by the values she believed in. She was a woman of honor, and she expected and believed the same of him.
“I don't know,” she said honestly. “I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm having trouble getting my mind around the whole concept. What you did is so enormous, I'm not sure I even get it yet.” Nothing that had happened in the earthquake had shocked her as much as this. She looked as though the world had collapsed in on her and their kids.
“I hope you don't leave,” he said, sounding sad and vulnerable. “I want you to stay.” He needed her. He didn't think he could face this alone. But he realized he might have to, and at some level, recognized that it was his own fault.
“I want to stay,” she said, crying again. She had never felt as devastated in her life, except when they thought their baby was going to die. Thank God, Molly had been saved. But she couldn't imagine now that anything would be able to save Seth. Even if he had a brilliant lawyer and they negotiated like crazy, she couldn't imagine him being acquitted, not with the proof they would have from the bank. “I just don't know if I can,” she added. “Let's see what happens when we're in communication with the world again. I imagine that the shit will hit the fan pretty fast.” He nodded. They both knew that this time of being cut off from the world was a reprieve for both of them. There was no way that they could act, or react. They just had to sit there and wait. It added immeasurably to the stress of the days after the earthquake, but she was grateful for the time it gave her to think. It did more for her than for Seth, who prowled the house like a caged lion, thinking about what was going to happen to him, and worrying about it constantly. He was desperate to talk to Sully, to find out what had happened to him in New York. Seth checked his BlackBerry constantly, as though it would suddenly come alive. It was still as dead as everything else, and possibly their marriage.
As they had for the three nights before that, they stayed well away from each other in bed that night. Seth wanted to make love to her, just for the comfort it would give him, the reassurance that she still loved him, but he didn't go near her, and didn't blame her for how she felt. He lay awake on his side of the bed, long after she fell asleep. Halfway through the night, Oliver woke up, crying and pulling on his ears again. He was teething, and Sarah wasn't sure if his ears were hurting or his teeth. She held him in her arms for a long time, rocking him in the big comfortable rocking chair in his room, until he finally went back to sleep again. She didn't put him back in his crib, she just sat there, holding him, looking at the moon, and listening to the helicopters patrolling the city through the night. It sounded like a war zone, as she listened, and as she sat there, she realized that it was. She knew this was going to be a terrible time for them. There was no way to avoid it, change it, turn the clock back to before it happened. Just as the city had been shaken to its roots by the earthquake, their life had come down around their ears, or was about to. It had fallen from the sky, hit the pavement, and been smashed to bits.
She spent the rest of the night in the rocking chair, holding Ollie, and never went back to bed. She couldn't bring herself to go back and lie next to Seth, and maybe never could again. She moved out of their bedroom into the guest room the next day.
Chapter 9
On Friday, the eighth day after the earthquake, the shelter residents at the Presidio were told that the freeways and airport would reopen the next day. A temporary tower had been set up. It would be months before the old one was rebuilt. The opening of Highways 280 and 101 meant that people could move freely to the south, but the Golden Gate Bridge wouldn't open for a few more days, making direct movement toward the north still impossible. They were told that the Bay Bridge would be closed for many months, until it was repaired. That would mean that commuters from the East Bay would have to travel to the city via the Richmond and Golden Gate Bridges, or the Dumbarton or San Mateo Bridges to the south. Commuting would be a nightmare, and traffic would be extremely slow. And for now, only those who lived on the peninsula would be able to go home on Saturday.
Several neighborhoods were being opened again, and people would be able to check the condition of their homes. Others had to face police barricades and yellow tape, if conditions were too dangerous to enter. The Financial District was still a disaster and off limits to everyone, which meant that many businesses could not reopen. And electricity would become available to only a small portion of the city over the weekend. There were rumors that electricity would not be fully restored for perhaps as long as two months, or one if they were lucky. The city was on all fours, but it was beginning to crawl. After being completely flattened for the past eight days, it was showing signs of life, but it would be months before San Francisco would stand fully upright again. There had been much talk in the shelters about people saying they would move away. They had lived with the threat of a major earthquake for years, and now that it had come, it had hit too hard. Some were ready to quit, others were determined to stay. Old people said they wouldn't live long enough to see another one like it, so it didn't matter to them. Young people were anxious to rebuild and start again. And many in between said they had had it with the city. They had lost too much and were too frightened. There was a constant cacophony of worried voices in the sleeping halls, the mess hall, and on the walkways where people strolled, and even along the beaches bordering Crissy Field. On a sunny day, it was easier to forget what had happened to them. But late at night, when they all felt the aftershocks that had begun to hit them a day later, everyone looked panicked. It had been a traumatic time for everyone in the city, and it wasn't over yet.
After they heard the news that the airport was going to open the next day, Melanie and Tom sat on the beach, talking, looking out at the bay. They had come to sit here every day. She had told him what had happened with Jake and Ashley, and she had been sleeping at the hospital ever since. She was anxious to get home and get away from them, but she had enjoyed getting to know Tom better.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked him quietly. Sitting with him always felt comfortable and peaceful. He had an easy way about him, of confidence and decency.
It was nice being with someone who wasn't directly involved in her business, or any aspect of show business. She was tired of actors, singers, musicians, and all the crazy people she dealt with every day. She had gone out with several of them, and it always ended as it had with Jake, or sometimes worse. They were narcissists, drug addicts, lunatics, or just generally badly behaved people who wanted to take advantage of her in some way. From what she had seen, they had no conscience, no morality, and they did whatever felt good to them at the time. She wanted something better than that in her life. Even at nineteen, she was far more stable than they were. She didn't do drugs and never had, had never cheated on anyone, didn't lie, wasn't obsessed with herself, and was a decent, moral, honest person. She wanted the same from someone else. She and Tom had talked a lot about her career in the past few days and where she wanted to go with it. She didn't want to abandon it, but wanted to take charge of it herself. It was unlikely her mother would ever let that happen
. Melanie had said to Tom that she was tired of being run, controlled, used, and pushed around by everyone else. He was impressed by how logical, rational, and sane she was.
“I've got to go back to Berkeley and move out of my apartment,” Tom said, in answer to her question. “It sounds like it may be a while before I can do that. At least the Golden Gate and Richmond Bridges have to reopen, so I can get over to the East Bay. Then I'll go back to Pasadena after that. I was going to stick around for the summer. I have a job here in the fall, but everything could change now, depending on how soon businesses can reopen. I may look for something else down there.” Like her, he was practical, had a level head, and kept a clear view of his goals. He was twenty-two years old, wanted to work for a few years, and then go to business school, maybe at UCLA. “What about you? What have you got on your agenda for the next few weeks?” They hadn't talked about it in any detail before. He knew she was leaving on tour in July, after a concert in Las Vegas. She had told him how much she hated it there, but it was an important venue for her, and the tour was going to be huge. After that, she was planning to be back in L.A. in September after the tour. But he had no idea what she had planned through June. It was still only May.
“I have a recording session next week for a new CD. We're doing some of the material I'll be using on the tour. It's a good warm-up for me. Other than that, I'm pretty free till my L.A. concert in June right before I leave. Do you think you'll be back in Pasadena by then?” She gave him the date, and looked hopeful. He smiled, listening to her. Getting to know her had been wonderful, seeing her again would be like a dream. He couldn't help thinking that she would forget him as soon as she got back to L.A. “I'd love you to come to the L.A. concert as my guest. It gets pretty crazy when I'm working, but it might be fun for you. You can bring a couple of friends if you want.”
“My sister would go nuts,” he said, smiling at her. “She'll be home in June too.”
“Why don't you bring her,” Melanie said, and then her voice dropped down to a whisper. “I hope you call me when you get back.”
“Will you take my call?” he asked, looking worried. Once out of the Presidio and back to her real life, she was a major star. What could she possibly want with him? He was just a fledgling engineer and no one on her radar screen. But she seemed to like being with him, as much as he enjoyed being with her.
“Of course I will,” she reassured him. “I hope you call me.” She jotted down her cell phone number for him. Cell phones were not operating in the San Francisco area yet, and wouldn't be for a while. Computer and telephone service hadn't been restored either. There was some talk that they would be up and running in another week.
They walked back to the hospital again then, and he teased her as they wandered in. “I guess you won't be going to nursing school for a while, if you're going on tour.”
“Yeah, right. Not in this lifetime.” She had introduced Tom to her mother the day before, and Janet hadn't been impressed. As far as she was concerned, he was just a kid, and his engineering degree meant nothing to her. She wanted Melanie to go out with producers, directors, lead singers, and well-known actors, anyone who would catch the eye of the press or in some way help her career. Whatever his other failings, Jake had been in those leagues, as a lure for the press. Tom never would be. And his boring, wholesome, well-educated Pasadena family was of no interest to Janet whatsoever. She wasn't worried about it, she figured Melanie would forget him as soon as they left San Francisco, and she wouldn't see him again. She had no idea about their plans to meet up again in L.A.
Melanie worked with Maggie all day and well into the evening. They had a pizza together that Tom brought them that night from the mess hall. The food had actually remained surprisingly good, thanks to a continual supply of fresh meats, fruits, and vegetables that were flown in by helicopter, and the creative skills of the chefs. Everett joined them after his final AA meeting, and said he had turned it over to a new secretary, a woman whose house in the Marina had been destroyed, and she was planning to stay at the shelter in the Presidio for several months. The meeting had grown remarkably just in the past few days, and had been a source of immense support to him. He thanked Maggie again for encouraging him to do it. She assured him gracefully that he would have done it anyway. And they continued to sit and talk, after the young people left for a last stroll on their final night together. This was a time they would all long remember, some of them in poignant ways.
“I hate to go back to L.A. tomorrow,” Everett confessed, after Tom and Melanie had left. They had promised to come back and say goodnight. The L.A. contingent were leaving early the next morning, and Melanie wouldn't be back to work again. “Are you going to be okay here?” He looked worried about her. She was full of fire and brimming with energy, but there was also something vulnerable about her that he had come to love.
“Of course I will. Don't be silly. I've been in much worse places than this. My own neighborhood, for instance.” She laughed, and he smiled at her.
“So have I. But it was nice being here with you, Maggie.”
“Sister Maggie to you,” she reminded him, and then chuckled. There was something between them that worried her at times. He had started treating her like a woman, not just a nun. He was protective of her, and she reminded him that nuns weren't ordinary women, they were under God's protection. “My Maker is my husband,” she said, quoting the Bible. “He takes good care of me. I'll be fine here. You make sure you'll be fine in L.A. too.” She was still hoping he would go to Montana to find his son one of these days, although she knew he wasn't ready to do it. But they had spoken of it a couple of times, and she encouraged him to think about it.
“I'm going to be busy editing all the shots I took here. My editor is going to go crazy.” He smiled at her, anxious to see the shots he had taken of her the night of the earthquake and since. “I'll send you copies of the ones I took of you.”
“I'd like that.” She smiled. It had been a remarkable time for all of them, tragic for some, and life-altering in good ways for others. She had said as much to Melanie that afternoon. She was hoping that at some point Melanie would get involved in volunteer work. She was so good at that kind of thing and had comforted so many people with so much gentleness and grace. “She'd make a great nun,” Maggie commented to Everett, and he guffawed.
“Stop recruiting. Now that's one girl who's never going to enlist. Her mother would kill her.” Everett had met Janet once, with Melanie, and hated her on sight. He thought she was loud, overbearing, pushy, pretentious, and rude. She treated Melanie like a five-yearold, while exploiting her daughter's success to the hilt.
“I suggested that she look up some kind of Catholic mission in L.A. She could do some wonderful work with the homeless. She told me she'd love to stop everything she's doing one day, and go away for six months, to work with poor people in a foreign country. Stranger things have happened. It might do her a lot of good. That's a crazy world she works in. She might need a break from it someday.”
“She might, but I don't think that's going to happen, with a mother like hers. Not while she's selling platinum records and winning Grammys. It may be a while before she can do something like that. If she ever does.”
“You never know,” Maggie said. She had given Melanie the name of a priest in L.A. who did wonderful work with people on the streets, and went to Mexico for several months every year, to help there.
“And what about you?” Everett asked her. “What are you going to do now? Go back to the Tenderloin as soon as you can?” He hated her neighborhood. It was so dangerous for her, whether she acknowledged it or not.
“I think I'll stay here for a while. The other nuns are going to stay too, and a few of the priests. A lot of people living here now have nowhere else to go. They're going to keep the shelters running at the Presidio for at least six months. I'll work at the field hospital, but I'll go home to check on things from time to time. There's probably more for me to do here. I can use
my nursing skills.” And she had used them well.
“When am I going to see you again, Maggie?” He looked worried about it. He had loved seeing her every day, and he could already feel her slipping out of his life, possibly for good.
“I don't know,” she admitted, looking sad for a minute herself, and then she smiled, remembering something she had meant to tell him for days. “You know, Everett, you remind me of a movie I saw when I was a kid. It was already an old movie then, with Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr. A nun and a marine get stranded on a desert island. They almost fall in love, but not quite. Or at least they're sensible enough not to let it happen, and they become friends. He behaves very badly at first and shocks her. He drinks a lot, and I think she hides his booze. She reforms him somewhat, and he takes very good care of her, and she of him. They were hiding from the Japanese while they were on the island. It was during World War II. And in the end, they get rescued. He goes back to the Marines and she to the convent. It was called Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, and it was a very sweet film. I loved it. Deborah Kerr made a great nun.”
“So do you,” he said sadly. “I'm going to miss you, Maggie. It's been so wonderful talking to you every day.”
“You can call me when we get cell phone service back, though I don't think that will happen for a while. I'll be praying for you, Everett,” she said, looking him in the eye.
Amazing Grace Page 13
