Full Circle (29 page)

“You know, I wanted to do that a year ago.” He smiled at her, but her mother was horrified at how they had behaved. And as early as possible Tana and Harry got back into the limousine and went back to New York. There was a tearful goodbye between Tana and Jean before that. Or at least, Jean cried and Tana was tense. Arthur had kissed her on the cheek and announced that she was his daughter now, too, and there wouldn't have to be any more scholarships. But she insisted that she couldn't accept a gift like that, and she couldn't wait to get away from all of them, especially cloying, pregnant Ann, with her whiny voice, her showy gems, and her boring husband, making eyes at someone else's wife halfway through the afternoon.

“Jesus, how can they live like that?” she had fumed to Harry on the way home and he patted her knee.

“Now, now, one day the same thing will happen to you, little one.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.” He laughed at her and they went back to the Pierre. They were both leaving the next day, and he took her to “21” that night. Everyone was happy to see him there, although chagrined to see that he was in a wheelchair now. And for old time' sake, they drank too much champagne, and were drunk when they got back to the hotel. Just drunk enough for Harry to do something he had promised himself he wouldn't do for another year or two. They were into their second bottle of Roederer, and actually they had been drinking all day, when he turned to her with a gentle look and touched her chin, and unexpectedly kissed her lips.

“Do you know that I've always been in love with you?” At first Tana looked shocked, and then suddenly she looked as though she might cry.

“You're kidding me.”

“I'm not.” Was her mother right? Was Harrison?

“But that's ridiculous. You're not in love with me. You never were.” She focused on him tipsily.

“Oh yes, I am. I always was.” She stared at him, and he took her hand in his. “Will you marry me, Tan?”

“You're crazy.” She pulled her hand away and stood up and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. She didn't want him to be in love with her. She wanted them to be friends forever, just friends, no more than that. And he was spoiling everything. “Why are you saying that?”

“Couldn't you love me, Tan?” Now he looked as though he were going to cry and she felt more sober than she had all night.

“I don't want to spoil what we have … it's too precious to me. I need you too much.”

“I need you too. That's the whole point. If we get married then we'll always be there.” But she couldn't marry him … she was still in love with Harrison … it was insane, the whole thing … all of it … she lay on her bed and sobbed that night, and Harry never went to bed at all. He was waiting for her when she came out of her room the next morning, looking pale and tired, with circles under her eyes. He wanted to retrieve what they'd had before, and it wasn't too late yet. That meant everything to him. He could live without being married to her, but he couldn't stand losing her. “I'm sorry about what happened last night, Tan.”

“So am I.” She sat down next to him in the room's spacious living room. “What happens now?”

“We put it down to one drunken night. It was a rough day for both of us … your mother getting married … my first time out socially in the chair … no big deal. We can put it behind us. I'm sure of it.” He was praying that she would agree with him and slowly she shook her head, as his heart sank.

“What happened to us? Have you really been … in love with me for all that time?”

He looked at her honestly. “Some of it. Sometimes, I hate your guts.” They both laughed and she felt some of what they had shared before, and she put her arms around his neck then.

“I'll always love you, Harry. Always.”

“That's all I wanted to know.” He could have cried if he'd let himself, but instead they ordered room service, laughed, raised hell, teased, trying desperately to regain the ease of what they'd had before, and as she watched his plane take off that afternoon, there were tears in her eyes. It might never be quite the same again, but it would be close. They'd see to that. They both had too much invested in each other by now to let anything spoil it for them.

When Harry finally arrived in Cap Ferrat, brought there by the car and driver Harrison had sent for him, his father came running across the lawn to help his son from the car and into his chair, gripping his arm powerfully and looking at him.

“You all right, Son?” There was something in Harry's eyes that worried him.

“More or less.” He looked tired. It had been a long flight, a long couple of days, and this time he hadn't played games with the stewardesses. He had been thinking of Tana as he flew to France. She would always be his first great love, the woman who had brought him back to life again. Feelings like that couldn't be lost, and if she didn't want to marry him … he had no choice. He had to accept it. He could see in her eyes that it simply wasn't there for her. And as much as it hurt, he knew that he had to force himself to accept that now. But it wasn't going to be easy for him. He had waited for so long to tell her what he felt. And it was all over now. It was never going to happen between them. The thought of that reality brought tears to his eyes again and Harrison took his son's shoulders in his powerful hands.

“How's Tana?” Harrison was quick to ask, and for just an instant he saw Harry hesitate, and then instinctively he understood. Harry had tried and lost. His father's heart went out to him.

“Tana's fine…” he tried to smile “… but difficult.” He smiled cryptically, and Harrison instantly understood. He knew that one day it would come to that.

“Ah, yes…” He smiled, as a pretty girl walked across the lawn to him and caught Harry's eye, just for an instant pushing Tana from his mind. And then the two men's eyes met, and Harry smiled slowly up at him. “You'll get over it, Son.”

For an instant he felt the lump in his throat again, and then with a sharp laugh, he whispered, almost to himself, “I'll try.”

W
hen Harry returned from Europe in the fall he was deeply tanned, and happy and rested. He had followed his father everywhere, to Monaco, to Italy, to Madrid for a few days, Paris, New York. It had been the whirlwind life again, the life he had felt so left out of as a boy, but suddenly there was a place reserved in it for him. Pretty women, lovely girls, galas, endless concerts and parties and social events. He was actually tired of it when he finally got on the plane in New York and flew west. Tana met him at the Oakland airport, and she looked reassuringly as she had before. She looked healthy and brown, her blond mane flying in the wind, she had loved her summer job, gone to Malibu for a few days with some friends she'd made at work, and she was talking about going to Mexico over the holidays, and when law school began, they were constantly together, yet apart. She would drop him off at the library, but her classes were different from his. She seemed to be making new friends now. With Harry out of the hospital, she had more free time, and the survivors of the first-year grind seemed to stick together now. It was a healthier arrangement than they'd had before, and by Christmas whenever she saw Harry at school he was always with the same girl, a pretty, petite blond girl from Australia, named Averil. She seemed to be Harry's shadow. She was studying for a master's degree in art, but she seemed far more interested in following Harry around everywhere, and he didn't seem to object to it. Tana tried to be nonchalant the first time Averil emerged from his room on a Saturday morning and suddenly all three of them laughed nervously.

“Does this mean you guys are kicking me out?” Tana laughed nervously.

“Hell no, you jerk. There's room for all of us.” And by the end of Harry's first year, she was living with them. She was actually adorable, shared the chores, was cheerful, pleasant, helpful, she was so sweet she made Tana nervous sometimes, particularly when she had exams, but on the whole the arrangement worked out perfectly. She flew to Europe with Harry that summer to meet Harrison, and Tana worked in the same law firm again. She had promised her mother that she would come East, but she was looking for every possible excuse not to go, and was spared a lie when Arthur had another heart attack, a mild one this time, but her mother took him to Lake George to rest, and promised to come out to see Tana in the fall. But Tana knew what that meant by now. She and Arthur had flown out once the year before, and it was nightmarish. She was “revolted” by the house they shared, “shocked” that she and Harry were still living under one roof, and she would be even more so now when she discovered that they had added another girl. Tana laughed at the thought. She was obviously beyond hope, and the only consolation was that Ann had gotten divorced again, through no fault of hers, of course. John had actually had the nerve to walk out on her, and was having a flagrant affair with her best friend. So all was not entirely wholesome anywhere these days … poor Ann … Tana smiled at the thought.

Tana actually enjoyed her summer alone that year. She loved Harry and Averil, too, but there was so much pressure on her with law school, that it was nice to be alone now and then. And she and Harry seemed to fight about politics all the time these days. He continued to support the war in Vietnam, and she became crazed when the subject came up at all, as Averil would try desperately to keep the peace. But Harry and Tana had known each other for too long. After six years, they no longer felt they had to be polite and the language they threw at each other made Averil cringe, although he would never have spoken that way to her, nor she to him. Averil was a far gentler soul than Tana was. Tana had been on her own for a long time. And at twenty-four, she was powerful and unafraid, and sure of her own ideas. She had a long, strong stride, and eyes that did not shy from anything or anyone. She was curious about everything around her, definite about what she thought, and courageous enough to say it to anyone. It got her into trouble sometimes, but she didn't mind. She liked the discussions that arose like that. And when she registered for school that year—hallelujah her last, she thought to herself with a grin—she found herself in the midst of a lengthy conversation in the cafeteria. There were at least eight or nine people talking heatedly about Vietnam, as usual, and she was quick to leap into it, as she always did. It was the subject she felt strongest about, because of Harry of course, no matter how he chose to feel, she had her own ideas, and Harry wasn't there anyway. He was off somewhere with Averil, probably, copping a quick feel before class, as Tana teased him often enough. The two of them seemed to spend most of their life in bed, challenging his “creativity,” which seemed to pose no problem at all. But Tana was deep in the ideologies of Vietnam and not thinking of Harry specifically as she spoke that day, and was surprised to find herself sitting next to someone even more radical than she. He had a wild mane of tightly curled black hair that sprang from his head almost angrily, sandals, blue jeans, a turquoise T-shirt, strangely electric blue eyes, and a smile that tore at something deep inside of her. When he stood up, every muscle seemed to ripple through his flesh, and everything about him seemed oddly sensual, and she had an almost irresistible urge to reach out and touch his arm, hanging so near to her.

“Do you live nearby?” She shook her head. “I didn't think I'd seen you here before.”

“I usually hang out in the library. Third year law.”

“Man.” He looked impressed. “That's tough.”

“You?”

“The master's program in political science, what else?” They both laughed. He had chosen well anyway, and he followed her to the library where she left him regretfully. She liked his ideas and he was strikingly beautiful, and she knew instantly that Harry wouldn't approve of him. He had very square ideas these days, especially with Averil around. It was something Tana knew about them both and it didn't bother her. Harry could have grown ferns on his head and sprouted horns, and she would have loved him anyway. He was her brother by then, and Averil was a part of him, so she accepted that. Most of the time, she tried not to discuss politics with them. It made things easier.

And she was intrigued to see her new friend making a speech on campus a few days later, about the same issues they had discussed. It was an impassioned, brilliant confrontation of the mind and she told him as much when she saw him afterwards. She knew by then that his name was Yael McBee. It was a funny name, but he was not a funny man. He was brilliant and intense and his anger reached out almost like a lash to touch those he wished to reach She admired his skill in addressing crowds, and she went to see him several more times that fall, before he finally asked her out to dinner one night. They each paid their share, and went back to his apartment to talk afterwards. There were at least a dozen people living there, some of them on mattresses, and it didn't have the neat, well-polished air of the cottage which Harry and Tana and Averil shared. She would, in fact, have been embarrassed to bring Yael there. It was too bourgeois, too sweet, almost too foreign to him. And she liked visiting him where he lived. She felt uncomfortable at home anyway these days. Averil and Harry were always making love or hiding out, going in his room and closing the door. She wondered how he got any studying done at all, and yet she knew he did from the look of his grades, which were surprisingly good. But it was more fun being with Yael and his friends, and when Harry flew to Switzerland at Christmastime, and Averil flew home, Tana finally invited Yael to come and see her. And it was odd to see him in the tidy little house, without his strident friends around. He had worn a deep green turtle- neck and his well-worn jeans. He had military combat boots, although he had served a year in jail for refusing to be drafted and go to Vietnam. They sent him to a prison in the Southwest, and paroled him after a year.