The next day she made a reservation to fly to Buenos Aires. It was a long trip, but it would be worth it. And she booked a reservation at a top hotel, which was amazingly inexpensive, and she e-mailed them to get her a car and driver. She planned to stay for a week, and she could extend it if she wanted to. And she booked a flight from Buenos Aires to Paris, and from there to Nice, and a car to St. Tropez, and she planned to stay there for a week too, and maybe a week in Paris after that. She was booked to leave on the Fourth of July, and planned to return sometime in August, depending on how things went. And after that she called her father and told him all about it. He was excited for her, and grateful to her mother for doing something that he couldn’t do for her, and he knew Izzie needed it. She needed something. She was stuck. She had seen too much sorrow for too long, and it had sapped the energy out of her, without her even realizing it. She promised to drop by and see them before she left.
And then she called John. He invited her to dinner that night and she decided to go. She wanted to tell him that she was going away, and didn’t think they should see each other when she got back.
He took her to a sushi restaurant in Japantown and the food was good, but she realized as she listened to him that she wasn’t interested in what he was saying or in his book. He was ten years older than she was and he had already given up on life. She hadn’t yet, even though she had felt that way for the past several months, or even years, since Gabby died. John wanted to take her to Oregon to go camping over the Fourth of July, and she told him she was going to Argentina to learn the tango. Just listening to herself made her want to laugh. She was feeling hopeful again about life. Suddenly it was an adventure and she was willing to try it.
“Argentina?” He looked shocked. “When did you decide that?” She hadn’t mentioned it before, or even thought of it.
“A couple of days ago. I had dinner with my mother. She offered to give me a trip, kind of a belated graduation present. I’m meeting her in France after that.” She felt like a spoiled brat as she said it, but he wasn’t starving either. He just didn’t want to spend his money, because if he did, he’d have to go back to work, and he didn’t want to. He wanted to keep his life as small as possible so his funds didn’t run out. It was a reasonable decision, but not much fun for her at the moment. She told him that she didn’t think they were suited to each other, and dating when she got back didn’t seem like a good idea to her. He looked disappointed but didn’t argue with her. By the end of dinner, it was obvious to him that she wasn’t suited to his life either. A woman who could go to Argentina at the drop of a hat was not a woman who was going to be available to him for the camping and hiking he wanted to do.
He took her home after dinner and she thanked him, for everything. They both knew they would never see each other again, and it didn’t seem to bother him. He wished her a good time in Argentina, and she waved as she walked through the door and disappeared. She was out of his life forever and neither of them cared.
She dropped by to see Connie before she left, and Marilyn and Jack, and Brian and the twins. Brian had just graduated and was going to Berkeley in the fall. Izzie felt bad because they were giving him a graduation barbecue on the Fourth of July and she was going to miss it. She called Judy, and e-mailed Andy, who was staying in Boston for the summer, and had dinner with Jennifer and her father and Ping the night before she left, and on the Fourth of July she was on a plane to Buenos Aires, thanks to her mother, who had turned out to be her best friend. She had gotten her moving again and in a very major way. In some ways, she had saved Izzie’s life, which had been bleeding slowly from her.
The city was more beautiful than she’d expected. It looked like Paris, and the hotel was fabulous for very little money. And the driver they gave her was perfect. He even took her to tango bars and escorted her inside to protect her. She danced with strangers. She walked through exquisite gardens. He drove her to an estancia called Villa Maria, forty-five minutes outside the city, she rode horses and swam and had a great time. She wondered, as she walked in the Bosques de Palermo one day, a beautiful park her driver had recommended, if she was anywhere near where Sean was, but she had no way to know, and she forced herself not to think of him. She also went to the Parque Tres de Febrero, much like the Bois de Boulogne in Paris, where she wandered through the rose gardens, along the promenades, and stood by the lake. She sent postcards to everyone at home, and one to Andy.
Then she flew to Paris, spent a night at a small hotel on the Left Bank, flew down to Nice, and went to St. Tropez. Her mother and Charles were thrilled to see her. They took her to restaurants and dinner parties, and dancing at the Caves du Roy one night. It was the most fun she’d ever had with her mother in her entire life. And then, on the spur of the moment, Izzie treated herself to a weekend in Venice on her way home. It was perfect. It would have been better with someone she loved, but she didn’t care. She felt free and excited and alive, and she spent four days in Paris on the way back, and then flew to San Francisco. She felt very sophisticated and worldly when she got home. And she felt alive again. Her mother had given her the most incredible gift of all. She had given her back herself. And when she went to work for her second year at Atwood, she told the kindergartners all about it: a place called Argentina, where people love to dance, and Paris—she showed them a postcard of the Eiffel Tower—and Venice, where everyone rode around on boats called gondolas. She showed them a postcard of that too.
“We went to New Jersey to see my grandmother!” a little girl called Heather piped up.
“And did you have fun?” Miss Izzie asked her with a big smile. Izzie looked and felt like a new person. Wendy was relieved to see it. The summer had done her a world of good.
“Yes, we did,” Heather said. “My grandma let us run around her backyard naked, and she has a pool!” Everybody laughed at that.
It was a special day for Izzie because Daphne and Dana, Marilyn and Jack’s twins, started kindergarten that day, and they were thrilled to see her. There was a continuity to their lives.
“Sounds like you had a fantastic summer,” Wendy said as they poured juice and put cookies on a platter.
“I really did.” Izzie smiled at her. “It was the best summer of my life.” After four of the worst years of her life, or the hardest anyway. She hoped the bad times were over now. And all she could hope was that Sean was alive and well and happy too. For the first time in years, since losing Gabby, Izzie felt alive again. And she was thinking of going to Japan over Christmas. Suddenly, thanks to her mother, the world had opened up to her, and she wanted to be in it.
Chapter 20
The excitement of her summer trip carried Izzie straight through to Thanksgiving. The gift her mother had given her had been incredible, not just paying for it but inspiring her to go. It had been the best summer of her life.
She was still thinking about going to Japan, or maybe India, but she had decided not to go at Christmas. She was thinking about going over Easter break, or maybe the following summer, but she wanted to be home at Christmas, to spend it with her father, Jennifer, and Ping. She had talked to Andy several times after the summer, and he said he was jealous of her trip to Argentina, although Paris, Venice, and St. Tropez didn’t sound too shabby either.
“Who’s your generous lover?” he teased her.
“My mother. When are you coming home?” She was anxious to see him.
“I can’t come home for Christmas. I’m either studying, in class, or at the hospital, constantly, and so is Nancy. We haven’t slept in three months.” But he sounded as though he enjoyed it, and he said he’d come home as soon as he could.
Izzie had just started her Christmas vacation from school, when the phone rang on Saturday morning and she heard a familiar voice. Her heart raced for a minute, wondering where he was. But he was alive at least. She hadn’t spoken to him since March. It was Sean.
“Oh my God, where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he sai
d, laughing at her. “Look out your window.” She did, and he was standing there, waving at her, talking to her on his BlackBerry. She opened her apartment door and ran downstairs to see him. He had grown a full beard, and he looked very thin. But he was there, he was alive, and he looked healthy. He was laughing when he saw her and gave her an enormous hug.
“Where have you been for all these months?”
“Colombia,” he said easily, the way anyone else would have said “L.A.”
“I was in Argentina last summer,” she said breezily, and he stared at her. She looked better than he’d seen her in years, and happier. He wondered if there was a new man in her life, but when he followed her back in to her apartment, there were no signs of it and she was alone.
“What were you doing there?” he asked suspiciously.
“I went to learn to dance the tango. And then I went to St. Tropez.”
“Did you win the lottery? Did I miss something?”
“My mother treated me. I was depressed after Billy, and worried sick about you. And I was going out with a really boring guy. My mother talked me into dumping everything and going on a trip. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. How are you?” She was so happy to see him, she couldn’t stop talking. His eyes were sunken and dark, and he was very thin under the beard, but he looked great to her. He was alive.
“What happened to the boring guy?”
“I dumped him before I went to Argentina. And I’m thinking about going to Japan this spring. You’re not the only one who can travel around the world, you know,” she said, as they sat down in her kitchen, and she poured them each a cup of coffee.
“I wasn’t exactly taking tango lessons,” he said drily. “You’re looking good, Iz.” He was pleased to see her so happy. He had worried about her for the past nine months. And he missed talking to her. But he was doing important work.
“How long are you here for?” Izzie asked him as they drank the coffee.
“A week or two. I’m going back in January.” She looked disappointed when he said it, but that was his life now. A week with his family, and almost a year underground.
“Undercover again?” He nodded. They had had some excellent results from his work in Colombia. Now they were sending him somewhere new that was even more dangerous than the last location, but he didn’t tell her.
“It’s what I do,” he said quietly, and took a sip of the steaming coffee.
“It’s hard on your parents,” she said bluntly.
“I know. But they’re good about it.”
“They don’t need to lose another son, Sean,” she said seriously, but he knew it. He could see that both his parents had aged while he was gone. Losing Kevin, and worrying about him, had taken a toll on them both.
“I know,” Sean said, looking guilty. “When can I take you to dinner? Will I have to deal with an angry boyfriend?” She looked so pretty and so happy that he was sure there was someone in her life.
“No, I’m single,” she said easily. “I’m free tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, and then he got up to leave. He looked down at her for a long moment and then pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “I missed you, Iz. I hated not being able to call you.”
“Yeah, me too,” she said quietly, but this was how he wanted to live, with no contact with any of the people he cared about, so he could fight a holy war. It didn’t seem worth it to her. But it was a choice he had made with his life, at a very, very high price for him and everyone else, even her. He had been part of her sense of hopelessness last spring. She had been sure she would never see him alive again. And she very nearly hadn’t, but he couldn’t tell her that. It had been a very delicate operation that had nearly gone wrong several times. And then they got him out, just in time.
After he left, she thought about him for a while. She hated his working for the FBI. There were so many things they could have done together, if he had been around. But that wasn’t the way he had opted to live, with a home, and a family nearby, a relationship, friends, and a life. He wanted to fight the drug wars for the FBI. It sounded much too dangerous to her. And she was happy, for his mother’s sake and everyone else’s, that he had come home alive. She knew it couldn’t have been easy though, and he suddenly seemed much older than his years. No one would have guessed that he and Izzie were the same age. He looked a dozen years older than she did now, more like thirty-five or -six.
She saw him as many times as was possible and he was willing while he was home. Just like old times. And he had other obligations too, to his family. He drove over to Berkeley and took Brian out and had lunch with him. He took Izzie to dinner several times. They went to their favorite restaurants, for hamburgers and pizza. And once he took her to a fancy French restaurant. He acted like his money was burning a hole in his pocket. But he hadn’t been able to spend any of it all year, and he was well paid for his undercover missions, with “danger pay” to compensate him for the risks he took. He was happy to spend it on Izzie.
He had Christmas with his family, and stayed until almost New Year, and then he had to leave again, and he came to say goodbye to Izzie. He didn’t justify his leaving or apologize for it this time. He had already told her that he was leaving for a year, and she was angry at him. She said it wasn’t fair to his parents.
He hugged her, and neither of them said anything. There was nothing to say. They both knew that he would spend the next year in constant danger, fighting for his survival, trying to outsmart drug dealers, and trying to glean information for his country. He lived in a permanent state of warfare. The drug money was used to buy arms and finance terrorists.
“Be careful,” she whispered to him. “And try to come back alive.”
“I’m too smart to let them kill me,” he said, smiling at her.
“And too damn cocky for your own good,” she said, and then he left her. He hurried down the stairs of her apartment, and back out to the street. She was watching him from the window, as he waved at her, got in his car, and drove away. And as he always did, he texted her from the airport. He told her again to take care, and she knew she wouldn’t hear from him for a year, or maybe longer. She hated the way he had chosen to live, but she also knew that it was what Sean had always wanted. And if he died there, it was what he would have wanted too, fighting for a cause he believed in. But if he died, Izzie knew it would cost her, and his friends and family, far too much. He was willing to sacrifice them all, and time with them, for what he believed in.
She tried not to let it depress her when he left this time. It was how he was always going to live. He was somebody she was only going to see once in a blue moon now, and they’d catch up on what they’d each been doing, and then he’d disappear for another year, trying to stay alive. And meanwhile the rest of the world would go on without him, and so would she.
She went to a New Year’s Eve party, given by a woman she’d met at UCLA, who had just moved to San Francisco. Izzie didn’t usually like going out on New Year’s Eve, but she didn’t want to sit home brooding either. The anniversary of Billy’s death had just passed, Sean had gone back under cover and had disappeared, and Andy was stuck in Cambridge, learning to become a doctor. She had no one else to spend New Year’s Eve with, so she went to the party.
And she met him almost as soon as she walked through the door. He was the best-looking man she’d ever seen, and he turned with a broad smile the moment he saw her. His name was Tony Harrow, he was a film producer from L.A., and he said he was making a movie in San Francisco.
“And what do you do?” he asked her with considerable interest, handing her a glass of champagne. She had worn a short white satin dress and high-heeled silver sandals. Most of the guests were outside on the balcony, smoking and drinking and laughing. But Tony sat down on the couch with her inside—he said he wanted her to himself.
“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” she said, smiling brightly, sure that he would find her intensely boring. But he didn�
��t.
“And what made you do that?”
“I couldn’t figure out what else to be when I grew up. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
“So am I,” he said, laughing. He was wearing an expensive suit, and an open white shirt, and his well-polished black shoes looked expensive. And she knew he had made several extremely successful movies. “Maybe you could help me find an apartment. I’m looking for something furnished, for a year, with a view.” He looked around at the pretty apartment on Russian Hill. “Like this one. Maybe we can just get our friend to move out and give it to me.” They both laughed at the suggestion. “Where do you live?”
“In a mouse-sized apartment near the school where I work.”
“How convenient.” He seemed fascinated by everything she said, no matter how inane. And he was very charming, as well as good-looking. She was flattered that he was speaking to her at all. She never met men like him in her world. Their mutual friend had gone to film school, and had worked for him for two years.
“Would you like to go to the Napa Valley with me tomorrow?” he asked her, and Izzie was so startled, she didn’t know what to say. But he looked at her so intently that she nodded. At midnight he was still sitting with her. He handed her another glass of champagne, and then he leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. He barely touched her, which seemed very seductive to her. He was very smooth.
They left each other, and she drove home at one o’clock in the morning. She hadn’t spoken to anyone else at the party, and he told her he would pick her up at ten o’clock the next day. And then he had brushed her lips again in the same subtle way, which was incredibly appealing. He was so pleasant, intelligent, and good-looking that he was almost too good to be true. Maybe she had imagined him. But he showed up as promised the next day, at ten o’clock, looking handsome and casual in jeans and a well-cut blazer. He had dark hair and salt and pepper at his temples. She had guessed him for thirty-five, and he told her he was thirty-nine as they drove to Napa. He was sixteen years older than she was, and seemed very sophisticated by her usual standards, but she liked it. It reminded her of Jennifer and her father, who were seventeen years apart. Maybe there was something to being with an older man. He was the first man that much older that she’d ever gone out with, and it was a nice change from boys her own age.
Friends Forever Page 21
