"All this time, you didn't tell me any of this."
"You were pretty tight with Quentin, you know, the boss, the president of the company. Emma didn't want you to know, and it didn't seem urgent, so I went along."
"But it concerned Emma. I had a right to know."
"Really.'' A right.'' Come on, Claire, we've known each other a long time, and I haven't seen you throwing your weight around with Emma, telling her about all your rights. What about if she'd
gone to college? You wouldn't have the faintest idea what she was involved in, unless she decided to tell you, and I'll bet you'd think that was fine; you wouldn't expect her to tell you every detail of every day. It would probably drive you crazy if she did, because you'd be too far away to do anything about it. Anyway, you brought her up to make decisions on her own, didn't you.^"
"What did she do about the memos.''"
"She went to Brix and told him she was worried about him; she's got some screwy notion that he's being set up as the fall guy if something goes wrong. He told her they're delaying the release and setting up some new tests, that there was some kind of flaw in the first tests. Which I don't believe. But the point is, he kept asking Emma if she'd told anybody about the memos. She says he asked and asked."
"She told you."
"But he doesn't know that because she told him she hadn't told anybody. She was afraid he'd hate her if he knew she had. So she told him nobody knew about the memos but her. She says he had her repeat that, over and over, as if that was all he was worried about. As if—this is what I thought, anyway, when she told me about it—as if he was part of whatever was going on and was worried about his own ass." Their eyes met. "And I was thinking about that kid in college."
"No," Claire whispered. "No, no, he wouldn't hurt her . . ." She shook her head. "His father . . . everyone knows about them . . . and besides . . . these are respectable people, Quentin and Brix, thev're not. . . they don't. . ." She jumped up. "Where is she.?"
"In bed. Asleep. She was exhausted. Look, I don't know if they're respectable or not; you know Quentin better than I do. But whatever they are, they've got a lot at stake, and I wouldn't want to predict what either of them would do if they felt threatened. I think you're right about getting her away from here, for a lot of reasons. But if she refuses to go to Europe or someplace else, why don't you send her to us for a while.? You know, the modeling is all she's got that makes her feel really good about herself right now; maybe it's not good to take that away from her. She could stay with us and nobody has to know it, and I could drive her to her photo sessions and bring her back. My first ex-
perience as a chaperon. She's comfortable with us, Claire; she doesn't even have to worry about not disappointing us, the way she does with you. It would be a good escape."
"Thank you; what a wonderful offer," Claire said. "It's probably the best thing she could do. I'll talk, to her. But I'll have to tell her you've told me all this."
"Fine. She's so beaten down by now she'll probably be grateful. She's been wanting to talk to you all along, you know, but there was that business of worrying that you'd think she let you down, and then on top of that she didn't think you'd understand."
"But she didn't give me a chance." There was a pause. "Remember when we talked about not talking to our mothers.'' It's awful, isn't it.'' I was always sure my mother wouldn't understand me, either."
"Well, lots of times mothers don't. Lots of times people just don't understand each other. Do you think my mother would understand me and Roz.'' Fortunately she lives a long way off, and she'll never know, if I can help it; she'd think I was damned, in the biblical sense. And maybe you wouldn't have understood Emma. Would you have sympathized if she told you how good she felt when she used drugs.^"
"No, but I hope I would have tried to understand."
"But whether you understood or not, you'd tell her to stop using them."
"Of course. You just told me that's what v*?^ told her."
"It's different, coming from me. And my saying it isn't going to make it happen. She sees it as a criticism of Brix, you know, and she's not ready to accept that. She doesn't even want to hear any suggestion that she could still have a career as a model if she took a few years off to go to college, because she thinks that's a criticism of him, too."
Claire stood beside the fire, looking down at the flames. "I shouldn't have paid so much attention to myself. I was so excited at having all that money—and then there was Quentin. and now Alex ... I didn't pay enough attention to her."
"Hey," Gina said gently, "that is pure bullshit, if you'll forgive my elegant language. From my observations, mothers are always blaming themselves when they shouldn't. You've got a grown-up girl here, and she's a very nice girl because of the way
you brought her up, and if she's got problems, it's because everybody has problems at one time or another, even people who are hovered over all the time. You have a right to a life, Claire; you gave Emma everything a mother could give a daughter, and the time came when it was right for you to break out of your cocoon and kick up your heels. And get into your own kinds of trouble."
Claire gave a small laugh. "Thank you. I sort of believe that. But right now Emma needs somebody to hover, and that means I stay home tonight so we can talk. Excuse me a minute." She went to the desk and called Alex. Between your son and my daughter, she thought, we are having a verv^ chaste love affair. The phone rang a few times and then his answering machine clicked on. She debated briefly, then hung up without speaking. It was a message she wanted to give him personally.
"You had a date.'^" Gina asked. "Alex.'*"
"Yes."
"Is that a good thing you two have going.''"
Claire smiled. "Yes."
"Oh, that is the smile of a happy woman. I'm glad; I am so glad. You know, I never was ecstatic about you and Quentin."
"Neither was I. But it was a lot of fun for a while. Until I knew it was all wrong for me."
"I hope the day comes when Emma can say that about Brix." Gina stood up and began stacking dishes. "Let's clean up; then I have to go. Would you believe I'm going to a Christmas party at Eiger Labs.'*"
"Why.'' You don't work there anymore."
"I was invited; everybody asked me to come back for it. It's kind of a going-away for me, too, I gather. Nice people work there, you know; I hope whatever's going on with PK-20 doesn't put any of them out of work."
"I can't believe Quentin would endanger the future of the company; he's got so much at stake in it."
"Well, that's the point: what he's got at stake. I think he's looking beyond it; CEO of an international company is what the rumors sav. And he's still young; who knows where he'll go from there.?"
There is nothing but power; it makes everything else real. You can romanticize about love, or fantasize about money, but the core is power, and those who have it have the key to everything else.
"I don't know his plans," Claire murmured. "I don't like the way he defines them."
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." They cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen, talking quietly together, and then Gina left. "Call me," she said. "I want to hear about Emma. And the invitation is open, you know; she can come anytime." She looked back as she left, to see Claire standing in the doorway, a small figure framed by the gleaming house she had bought with such delight only a few months before. Only happy things should happen there, Gina thought, driving away, and as she turned onto the highway to Norwalk, she tried to think of what else she could do for Claire and Emma.
For years they had been all the family she had, and even now, when she had found her place with Roz, she felt a little bit like a daughter who has moved away, but still had her family nearby. Sometimes she thought of what her life would have been without Claire and Emma, and it was a thought that froze her heart. She would have been so alone.
What would I have done with all this love I have stored up in me.^ she wondered as she pulled into the Eiger Labs parking lot i
n the fading light of midafternoon. Years of love for Claire and Emma, and now so much for Roz. Walking into the building through the familiar side door, she felt blessed; no one could ask for a fuller life.
She was surrounded by the staff of Eiger Labs as she came into the main lab. They had decorated it with a lighted Christmas tree and strings of cranberries and holly looped above the work-tables, and Gina found herself having a good time, having pleasantly nostalgic feelings. She made her way slowly from group to group, raising her voice when someone turned up the volume on the Christmas carols pouring from a tape player on one of the worktables.
"Punch," said a chemist named Len Forsberg, seeing her put down an empty glass. He handed her a paper cup. "And it has one."
Gina tasted it. "Yes, indeed; you might even call it a kick. How generous of our host. Is he here.'"'
"No, but junior is. Over there, in the red tie and spiffy sports coat, looking oh-so-pleased with himself. Fhey had a terrific year.
you know. We all got the end-of-year report yesterday, and everything is very rosy for Eiger Labs."
"Except for PK-20." There was a chance, Gina thought, a very small chance, that Brix had told Emma the truth, and this was the way to find out. "How much is the delay in the release date going to hurt them.'"'
"What delay.^" Len frowned at her.
"You don't know about one.^ There was nothing in the end-of-year report.-^"
He shook his head. "I don't, and there wasn't. Why would there be.^"
So that was that, Gina thought. No new tests, no delay in the release date. "I heard, just the other day, that they were going to do a new series of tests. Something about not being satisfied with the ones they'd done."
"Not satisfied.^ Christ, they were perfect. Who've you been talking to, Gina.^ Or is it the punch.^"
"No, I heard it. You know how people talk."
"Well, it sounds like somebody's dreaming. Or having a nightmare, is more like it. We're all geared up for March—they've even started training sessions for salespeople all over the country—and we're working on a second line to come out next year; different products, including a whole line for men."
"You're sure of that."
"Oh, come off it, Gina; you worked here; you know what we're doing. Everything in the whole place is focused on March; it's like D-day and Judgment Day all rolled into one. If it wasn't going to happen, it would have been through here like wildfire. But what the hell, let's ask junior. If anybody would know, he would."
"No," Gina said hastily. She was gazing at Brix, laughing boisterously at something someone had said to him . . . oh-so-pleased with himself. "Maybe I had the wrong information. Tell me again what the schedule is."
"Same as when you were here. Why would it change.^"
"No reason, I guess. I guess I was pretty gullible." And so was Emma.
"You better believe it. Don't believe anything you hear unless you hear it from me." Len laughed and wandered off, while
others took his place, asking Gina about the farm, asking her if she would ever come back. She tried to look attentive, but she was watching Brix, and in a few minutes she saw Len in the group around him.
Oh, God, what do I do now.'' she thought. I could tell Emma, but what good would that do.'' I should stay out of it at this end. But there's no reason why I should keep those memos a secret; I only promised Emma I'd give her a little time. And why should I, now.'' I don't care about Brix; I care about Emma.
But if I go to the FDA, Brix will know the information came from Emma. I can't tell him I raided the testing lab one night. . . well, I guess I could, but he'd know I went there based on information from Emma. And I don't want him anywhere near Emma when he finds out the FDA has the memos. In fact, I don't want him anywhere near Emma if Len tells him I was asking about postponing the release date and scheduling new tests.
She glanced again across the lab, but did not see Brix. She turned in place, looking closely at all the clusters of people, but he was not there. That's odd, she thought; the party has a while to go yet.
"Excuse me," she said to someone who was winding up a joke about lab technicians. "I have to make a phone call."
She found an empty office and perched on the edge of the desk. "Hi," she said when Claire answered. "I've been thinking about what we talked about and it seems like a very good idea, better than ever, in fact, for me to take Emma home with me tonight. You, too, if you want to come."
"Gina, she isn't here."
"She must be—she was asleep when I left and that was only a couple of hours ago."
"I don't know how long she was asleep." Claire's voice was strained. "I went upstairs to see how she was, and she was gone. She left a note saying that she had to go to New York for a last-minute photo shoot, and she'd stay overnight and be back tomorrow."
We're doing an extra photo shoot. Hale couldn't ^ait, and fve got to be good, Vve al^'ays got to be good . . .
I didn't pay enough attention, Gina thought.
"And she's going with Brix," Claire said.
Gina swore. Her hands felt cold as she pictured Len standing
beside Brix. But the photo shoot was scheduled before the party. This had nothing to do with Len. This was just what it seemed to be: a photo shoot scheduled three days before Christmas, which was odd but not unheard of. Still. "Listen," she said, trying to sound casual. "I think we ought to bring her home. I think that might be a good thing to do."
"What's wrong.^" Claire demanded. "What happened.^"
"Nothing. Well, I just found out Brix lied to Emma about putting off the release date, and he may have an inkling that people are talking about it and he might blame that on Emma. If he thinks she might be a threat to him, he might be . . . unpleasant. And why should Emma have to go through that.^ Where does she stay in New York, Claire.^ We could be there pretty fast."
"I don't know." Claire's voice was almost inaudible. "She's stayed in a couple of hotels, that I know of . . ."
"Which ones.''"
"The Plaza and the Fairchild."
"Why don't you call and see if she's registered.^ Or if Brix is."
"And if they're not.?"
"I don't know. I think I'll come up to Wilton. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Claire, everything is probably fine. I'm probably acting like a hysterical aunt."
"Yes," Claire murmured, but there was a catch in her voice.
"Wait for me. I'm on my way." And Gina grabbed her coat and ran from the building, to her car.
SEVENTEEN
c
L A I R E was standing at the desk in the Hbrary, lool^ing for a telephone number, when Alex arrived. "I'm early; I couldn't wait. If it's not a good time, I'll—" He stopped. "Claire, what is it.^ What's happened.'"'
"Nothing. I don't know." She was so glad to see him it drove everything else from her thoughts. She moved into his arms blindly, as children do when they are afraid, as Emma had done through the years, coming home from school to find comfort from the cruelty of another child or the pain of a romance gone astray. Claire's eyes were closed; she felt the soft wool of his jacket beneath her palms and the silk of his tie beneath her cheek; she heard the faint shudder of her breathing in the silent house. She felt none of the arousal of the night before; what she felt now was the comfort of closeness and Alex's strength.
Finally he stirred, caressing her hair and holding her head protectively against his heart. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it," he said. "Together. From now on, my love. Together. Tell me what's happening."
"Emma," she said, her voice strained. "Gina thinks she's in danger." She began to shiver.
"Wait; come in here." Alex tightened his arm around her shoulder and led her into the librar-. They sat on the couch and he took her in his arms again and cradled her. "Where is she.''"
"New York. I don't know where. She left a note saying she was going in for a photo session and she'd be back tomorrow."
"She went alone?"
"She went with Brix. Or met
him there; I'm not sure. I called his secretary, but she didn't have his itinerary." She told Alex everything Gina had told her. "She's probably fine; I don't know why I'm so scared. Gina said that, that she's probably fine, and I don't really have any reason to think she isn't, but when I put everything together, I can imagine ..." She took a long breath, trying to stop shivering.
"Parents are afflicted with hyperactive imaginations; it goes with the job. What can we do.'"'
"Oh." Claire sprang up. "I was calling Hale when you came."
"Hale.?"
"Hale Yaeger. His agency does the advertising for Eiger; he sets up the photo sessions." She was at the desk again, leafing through her leather datebook. "It's not six o'clock yet; he ought to be there . . . Hale," she said in a minute, "it's Claire God-dard."
"Claire, what a pleasant surprise." His voice was not pleasant and not surprised. But why should it be.'' Claire thought. Whatever he felt about me in the past few months was because of Quentin, and now that that's over he has no reason to feel friendly toward me; in fact, he has good reason to be hostile, since I'm Roz and Gina's friend. "What can I do for you.?" he asked.
"I'm looking for Emma. I know you usually take care of her hotels in New York, and if you could tell me where she is—"
"That's tomorrow."
"What.?"
"The photo session is tomorrow afternoon, and I told her she ought to plan to stay over tomorrow night because we'll probably run late."
"But she went in this afternoon."
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