Authors: Danielle Steel
The hearing was at two, and Luke's attorney was due at the Fairmont at nine for a briefing. It would probably be the first time that Alejandro would hear it all straight. Luke had a way of clouding the issues, to spare his friends fear. And he knew that Kezia wouldn't let herself speak what she thought. Alejandro got nothing from Kezia now, and nothing from Luke except bullshit and bravado. The only real thing he had heard was to "take care of Kezia, in case." And that was going to be no easy task. That girl was going to take it harder than hell if he fell.
For a brief moment before he went to sleep, Alejandro almost wished that he hadn't come. He didn't want to see it. Didn't want to watch it happen to Luke, or see Kezia's face when it did.
The attorney arrived at nine, bringing tension with him. Kezia greeted him with a formal "good morning," and made the introduction to "Our friend, Mr. Vidal." She poured coffee and commented what a beautiful day it was. That's when things started to go sour. The attorney gave a terse little laugh that set Kezia's nerves on edge. She was suspicious of him anyway. He was renowned for his skill at hearings like Luke's, for which he charged five thousand dollars. Lucas had insisted on paying it himself with his savings. He had set aside money for that, "just in case." But Kezia didn't like the man's style—overconfident, overpaid, and overbearing. He assumed far too much.
The attorney looked around the room and felt the chill vibes from Kezia, and then made matters worse by putting his foot in his mouth. She was a most unnerving young woman.
"My father used to say on mornings like this, "Could be a beautiful day to die.'" Her face grew ashen and taut and Luke gave her a look that said "Kezia, don't blow it!" She didn't, for Luke's sake, but she smoked twice as much as she ordinarily did. Luke made no pretense: at nine in the morning, he was drinking bourbon straight up. Alejandro chain-drank cold coffee. The party was over.
The meeting lasted two hours, and at the end of it they knew nothing more than they had before. No one did. There was no way to know. It all depended on the Adult Authority and the judge. No one could read their minds. Lucas was in danger of being revoked for instigating "unrest" in the prisons, agitating, and basically meddling in what the parole board and prison authorities felt was no longer his business.
They had the right to revoke him for less, and there was no denying Luke's agitating. Everyone knew of it, even the press. He had been less than discreet in the years he'd been out. His speeches, his book, his meetings, his role in the moratorium against prisons, his hand in prison labor strikes across the country.
He had gambled bis life on his beliefs, and now they'd have to see what the price was. Worse, under the California indeterminate sentence laws, once he was revoked, the Adult Authority could keep him for as long as they liked. The attorney's "probably not more than two or three years" only added to their collective gloom. No one held out much hope. For once, not even Luke. And Kezia was silent
The lawyer left them shortly after eleven, and they agreed to meet at the courthouse at one-thirty. Until then, they were free.
"Want to have lunch?" It was Alejandro's suggestion.
"Who can eat?" Kezia was having increasing trouble playing the game. She had never looked as pale, and suddenly she wanted to call Edward or Totie, even Hilary, or Whit. Someone . . . anyone . . . but someone she knew well. This was like waiting in a hospital corridor to find out if the patient would live . . . and what if ... what if he didn't . . . what if . . . oh God.
"Come on, you guys, let's go out" Luke had the situation in control, except for the almost imperceptible tremor of nerves.
They had lunch at Trader Vic's. It was nice, it was pretty, it was "terribly posh" as Luke said, and the food was probably excellent, but none of them noticed. It didn't feel right. It was all so fancy, so overdone, so false, and such a goddamn strain to keep up the pretense of giving a damn where they ate.
Why the Fairmont and Trader Vic's? Why couldn't they just eat hot dogs, or have a picnic, or go on living after today? Kezia felt a weight settle over her like a parachute dipped in cement She wanted to go back to the hotel to lie down, to relax, to cry, to do something, anything but sit in this restaurant eating a dessert she couldn't even taste. The conversation droned on; all three of them talked, saying nothing. By the time the coffee was served, they had sunk into silence. The only sound was of Luke, drumming the fingers of one hand softly on the table. Only Kezia heard; she felt the sound rippling through her like a triphammer pulse. She felt wired to the marrow of his bones, to his brain, to his heart If they took him, why couldn't they take them together?
Alejandro looked at his watch, and Luke nodded.
"Yeah. It's about that time." He signaled for the check and Alejandro made a gesture to reach for his wallet. With a sharp look in his eyes, Luke shook his head. And this wasn't a day to argue with him. He left the money on the small wicker platter the waiter had left with the bill, and they pushed the table away. Kezia felt as though she could hear a drum roll as they walked outside to the limousine. She felt like the costar in a B movie. They couldn't be real people, this couldn't be an hour before Luke's hearing, it couldn't be happening to them. None of it seemed real. And then, as the limousine rolled them inexorably away, she started to laugh, almost hysterically.
"What's funny?" Luke was tense, and Alejandro was silent now. Her laughter rang out jarringly. There was something shattering about it, something unbearably painful. It wasn't real laughter.
"Everything's funny, Luke. All of it. It really is, it ... I ... it's all so absurd." She laughed on, until he took her hand and held it too hard. Then she stopped, tears suddenly trying to rush into the space where the laughter had been. It was all so absurd, all those ridiculous people at Trader Vic's—they'd be going to a concert after lunch, or the hairdresser, or to board meetings, or I. Magnin's, or to tea parties and dressmakers . . . leading their perfectly normal lives. But what could be normal, that, or this? None of it made any sense. The laughter tried to bubble back into her mouth, but she wouldn't let it. She knew that if she laughed again she would cry, and maybe even howl. That was what she wanted to do. Howl like a dog.
They drove west into the pale afternoon sun, and then south on Van Ness Avenue, past used cars and new cars and the blue plastic of the Jack Tar Hotel. The ride seemed to go on forever. People were busy, were running, were going, were living, and all too soon the dome of City Hall loomed before them.
It stuck out like a proud gilded onion, a dowager's tit, noble and overdressed in patina and gold.
Terrifying. City Hall. And within so few feet, other limousines were beginning to arrive for the symphony at the Opera House. Nothing made any sense.
Kezia felt vague and confused, almost drunk, though she'd had only coffee. And only the steadying presence of Luke on one side and Alejandro on the other kept her feet moving. Up the steps, through the doors, into the building, past the people ... oh God ... oh God, no!
"I need a pack of smokes." Luke strode away from them and they followed, through the vast marble halls and under the dome. He walked with the determined rolling gait she knew so well, and silently she reached for Alejandro's hand.
"You okay, Kezia?"
She answered with a question in her eyes: /
don't know. Ami?
"Yes." She gave him a small wintry smile and looked up at the dome. How could ugly things happen here? It looked like Vienna or Paris or Rome, the columns and friezes and arches, the lofty swoop of the dome, the echo, the gold leaf. The day was really here. January eighth. The hearing. She was nose to nose with it now. Brutal reality.
She held tight to Luke's hand as they rode up in the elevator, and she stood as close to him as she could . . . closer . . . tighter . . . nearer . . . more. . . . She wanted to slip inside his skin, bury herself in his heart.
The elevator stopped on four, and they followed the corridors to the law library where the attorney had said he would meet them. They passed a courtroom, and suddenly Luke pushed her aside, almost thrusting her at Alejandro.
"What.. ."
"Fucking bastards." Luke's face was suddenly angry and red, and Alejandro understood before she did.
They quickened their pace, and he put an arm around her shoulders.
"Alejandro, what. .."
"Come on, babe, we'll talk about it later." The two men exchanged a look over her head, and when she saw the television cameras waiting, she knew. So that was it Lucas was going to make news. Either way.
They detoured the reporters unnoticed, and slipped into the law library to wait. The attorney joined them after a few minutes, a thick file in his hand, a tense look on his face. But something about his demeanor impressed Kezia more than it had at the hotel
"Everyone ready?" He tried to look jovial and failed dismally.
"Now? Already?" It wasn't two o'clock yet, and Kezia was beginning to panic, but Alejandro still had a tight grip on her shoulders. Luke was pacing in front of a book-lined wall.
"No. It'll be a few minutes. I'll meet you back here, and let you know when the judge is in court."
"Is there any other way into the courtroom?" Alejandro look troubled. "... is ... why?" The attorney looked puzzled, "have you walked past the courtroom yet?" "No. Not yet."
"It's crawling with reporters. Television cameras, the works."
"The judge won't let them inside. Not to worry."
"Yeah. But we'll still have to walk through them."
"No, we won't." Luke was back in their midst. "Or Kezia won't in any case, if that's what you're worried about, Al."
"Lucas, I most certainly will!" Small as she was, she looked as though in the heat of the moment she might hit him.
"You will not. And that's that." This was no time to argue with him. The look on his face made that much clear. "I want you here. I'll come and get you when it's over."
"But I want to be in there with you."
"On TV?" His voice dripped irony, not kindness.
"You heard what he said. They won't be in court."
"They don't need to be. They'll get you coming and going. And you don't need that. And neither do I. I am not going to argue with you, Kezia. You're staving here in the library, or you can go back to the hotel. Now. Is that clear?"
"All right."
The attorney left them, and Luke began to pace again, and suddenly he stopped and walked slowly toward her, his eyes fixed on hers, everything about him familiar and dear. It was as though the barbed wire had gone from his spine. Alejandro sensed the mood and moved slowly toward a distant row of maroon and gold books.
"Baby . . ." Luke was only a foot away from her, but he didn't reach out to touch her, he only looked, watching her, as though counting every hah- on her head, every thread in her dress. He took in all of her, and his eyes bore through to her soul.
"Lucas, I love you."
"Mama, I have never ever loved you more. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes. And you know how much I love you?"
He nodded, his eyes still digging deep.
"Why are they doing this to us?"
"Because I decided to take my chances a long time ago, before I knew you. I think I'd have done it differently if I'd known you all along. Maybe not. I'm a shitkicker, Kezia. You know it. I know it. They know it. It's for a good cause, but I'm a thorn in their side. I've always thought it was worth it, if I could change something for the better . . . but I didn't know then that I'd be doing this to you."
"Is it still worth it, for you, not counting me?" Even without considering her, how could it have been now?
But his answer surprised her.
"Yes." His eyes didn't waver, but there was something sad and old about them that she had never seen before. He was a man paying a heavy price, even if they didn't revoke him. It had already cost him a great deal. "It's worth it even now, Lucas?"
"Yes. Even now. The only thing I feel like shit about is you. I should never have dragged you through it. I knew better right at the start."
"Lucas, you're the only man I've ever loved, maybe the only human being I've ever loved. If you hadn't 'dragged me through this,' my life would never have been worth a good goddamn. And I can live with what's happening. Either way." For a moment she was as powerful as he; it was as though his strength had filled her to catalyze her own. "And what if I go?" "You won't." I won't let you. . . . "I might." He seemed almost detached, as if he was ready to go if he had to. "Then I'll handle that too."
"Just handle yourself, little lady. You're the only woman I've ever loved like this. I won't let anything destroy you. Not even me. Remember that. And whatever I do, you've got to know that I know what's best. For both of us."
"Darling, what do you mean?" Her voice was a whisper. She was afraid.
"Just trust me." And then, without another word, he bridged the last foot between them, pulled her into his arms and held her breathlessly close. "Kezia, right now I feel like the luckiest man in the world. Even here."
"Just the most loved." There were tears brushing her lashes, as she buried her face in his chest.
Alejandro was forgotten, the law library had faded around them. The only thing they had that mattered and was real was each other.
"Ready?" The lawyer's face looked like a vision from a bad dream. Neither of them had heard him coming. Nor had they seen Alejandro watching them with tears streaming down his face. He wiped them away as he walked toward them.
"Yeah. I'm ready."
"Lucas . . ." She clung to him for a moment, and he pushed her ever so gently away.
"Take it easy, Mama. Ill be back in a minute." He gave her a lopsided smile and squeezed her hand tight.
She wanted so desperately to reach out to him, to keep him from going, to stop it, to hold him close and never let him go. ...
"We'd best be ..." The attorney looked pointedly at his watch.