Let Me Count The Ways (17 page)

“No, no,” I assured her. “She’s fine. It’s just that I clipped her wings last night. Sometimes it takes her a few tries before she remembers she’s been grounded. Especially since it had been a while since the last time I’d done it.”

“Hmph.” Claire frowned at me darkly and held her arm up for Zoe to perch on. I handed her off, reluctantly. “Is that the problem, baby?” she murmured, hugging Zoe protectively against her chest. “Is the mean man spoiling all your fun?”

“It’s just feathers, Claire,” I felt compelled to point out. “They’ll grow back, you know. Besides, it’s really for her own good.”

She shot me a reproachful look. “Yes, and don’t they always say that? She’s a bird, Mike, they
need
to fly. It’s like hobbling a race horse, or that hood thing they put on falcons. Or de-barking a dog. It’s just cruel.”

Cruel? I stared at her, appalled. “It’s nothing of the sort. Claire, you have
no
idea how much trouble she can get into on her own--between flying into windows and attempting to eat things that would make her sick. If I didn’t clip her wings I’d have to keep her locked up in her cage all day while I’m at work. That would be cruel. She hates that.”

“Uh-huh.” Sounding utterly unconvinced, Claire carried Zoe over to the table. “I don’t know what you want to drink, Mike,” she said as she seated herself. “I didn’t pick up any wine, because I assumed you’d have some.” Her gaze went to the empty wrought iron wine rack hanging from the ceiling. “But it looks like you’re out.”

I shook my head and headed for the kitchen. “I’m not out of wine. It’s just that I keep it in a special, climate-controlled cabinet most of the time. That rack up there is mostly for show--especially during the warmer months.” Despite the trees that surrounded the house, the canyon has a tendency to get hot in the summer; hot, dry and prone to wild fires. “Wine doesn’t do well if it’s left in the heat too long, you know. And since I buy most of mine directly from the vineyards I tend to be a little particular about how it’s stored.”

Claire coaxed Zoe to perch on the back of her chair. “I think I may have been underestimating you, Mike.” Her voice sounded pensive.

I gazed at her curiously. “How’s that?”

She shrugged. “Well, I tend to be a little too impulsive, myself. Sometimes I forget that not every one’s like that. But you... you really think things through, don’t you? I can tell.”

I looked at her in surprise. “Why? Because I like to store my wine properly?”

She shook her head. “Not just that.”

“Well, I hope I do,” I replied, carrying glasses, wine and corkscrew over to the table. “It’s not a bad trait, is it? Although, there’s a lot to be said for spontaneity.”

Claire nodded. “I suppose. But jumping to conclusions, rushing to judge--or really just jumping into anything, for that matter--has its risks.”

I don’t like taking a position when I don’t know what’s at stake. Since I had no idea what we were talking about, it seemed best to stay as non-committed as I could. “Ah, but what’s life without a few risks?” I uncorked the bottle and poured a little wine into Claire’s glass. “Here, see what you think of this.”

Claire took a sip. “Lovely. You always pick the perfect wine for every meal too, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “That’s not hard to do when you provide such delicious food. You make things easy for me.”

“I do, don’t I?” Claire smiled teasingly. “So we make a good team. Is that what you’re saying, Mike?”

I poured more wine into her glass and then filled my own before I answered. “I’d like to think so. Sure.”

“Hmph.” Claire sipped her wine and retreated into a thoughtful silence.

I sat down and gazed at her curiously. “I take it that means you don’t agree?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

“But is that what you think?”

Again she surprised me. “No, actually I just hadn’t really thought about it before now.”

I waited. Then pressed her again. “And now that you have?”

Claire sighed. “Well, nowwww...” She folded her arms on the table and leaned forward, closer to me. “I think you may--possibly--be right.”

Hopes soaring even higher than before, I couldn’t help but point out, “I usually am.”

Clare’s eyebrows rose. “You’re usually what? Right?”

“Most of the time. Yes.” I smiled. “That’s one of the benefits of all that thinking you’ve credited me with doing.”

“Oh. I see.” A hint of challenge glimmered in her hazel eyes as she smiled at me. “So, as a result of
all that thinking
, you think this is one of those times, huh?”

“Yes,” I answered, mirroring her position, folding my arms as well, leaning towards her until only the slightest of efforts on either of our parts would result in a kiss. “I do.”

I spoke the words softly, but I think my voice carried conviction. Claire’s reaction, however, was not what I’d hoped or expected. Oh, her eyes did turn molten for all of a moment, her lips parted... but then the moment passed and instead of leaning closer, she withdrew.

“Well, I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Her tone was teasing. A slight smile curved her lips. Her face appeared serene. But she couldn’t hide the sudden bleakness in her eyes and, as she lifted her glass to her lips, I could see her fingers were trembling.

She’s afraid
. I stared at her thunderstruck. Though she hid it well, the woman before me was clearly, suddenly nervous... but of what? Of me? Of my being right?

No, that was ridiculous. It had to be more than that.

Commitment?

Well, I guess, with half a dozen disastrous marriages behind her, how could she not be at least a little bit gun-shy? But, if that’s all it was, if that’s what was motivating her...

Oddly, the realization filled me with hope. It put everything she’d said the other night into a perspective I hadn’t ever considered. This business about us staying friends--no more, no less--was nonsense. We could be so much more than that. In her heart of hearts, I’d bet anything she knew it, too. She knew it and if frightened her.

But I could live with that, couldn’t I? I could wait until she came around. If she was a one-man woman and I was that one man? I was pretty sure I could wait as long as I had to.

“So, what are we waiting for?” I asked, returning her guarded look with a calm smile--a friendly smile--just like she wanted. “Let’s eat.”

Dinner went well. Zoe stayed perched on the back of the Claire’s chair for at least part of the meal, before moving onto her shoulder, snuggling against her in a way I’d thought was reserved for me. I pretended not to notice, just as I pretended not to notice all the snacks Claire gave her. Seeing Zoe again seemed to spark all sorts of memories for Claire. And, for once, she didn’t seem to mind talking about them. We discussed some of the movies she’d made, directors she’d worked with, other actors. Our conversation, while not as light as on previous occasions, seemed to cover a lot more ground.

We’d made it all the way to the dessert course when Zoe craned her head around suddenly and nipped at Claire’s ear.

“Ow! Bad bird,” she gasped, covering her ear.

“I’m sorry,” I said rising from my seat to take Zoe away. “I should have warned you.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Still holding one hand pressed to her ear, Claire put out her other hand to stop me. “Sit down, Mike. Warned me about what?”

“At least let me see if you’re okay,” I protested.

She shook her head. “Really, I’m fine.”

Reluctantly, I returned to my chair. “Zoe loves to chew on earrings. I guess it’s the sparkle, or something. It’s her only bad habit, really, and I just can’t seem to break her of it.” I pointed at my own ear, at the stud I’d been wearing ever since the night Claire had admired it. “That’s why I practically had to stop wearing this.”

“Oh.” To my surprise, Claire’s face went pink, her eyes danced with laughter. “Well, in that case, I suppose I owe
you
an apology.”

“How’s that?” I asked.

“Um, because I’m the one who taught her to do it?”

“You taught her...” I felt my eyebrows rise.

“Fraid so,” she answered, lips quirking up in a guilty grin. “And, oh, wasn’t her trainer just furious with me? Luckily, there was no way they could ever prove I was responsible. But I think everyone knew--or guessed. I mean, it wasn’t the first trick I’d taught her.”

I was still staring at her, open-mouthed. “Why would you do that?”

Claire sighed. “Oh, you know how it is. Long days stuck in the jungle. Too much time on my hands. I was young. I was bored. I was... provoked.” She lifted Zoe from her shoulder and placed her on her lap, stroking her gently as she spoke. “It was while we were filming
Inca Gold
. The location was gorgeous but totally remote. The nearest town was... oh, gee, I don’t know how many miles away from the set. I think there was only one cantina in the whole place, one crappy little hotel. Not that ‘the whole place’ amounted to very much, mind you.”

“Go on,” I prompted, still not seeing the point.

“Well, there was this one, really annoying PA. You know, a production assistant? She had these earrings. This one
particular
set of gold and diamond, two-toned, tassel earrings. Trashy looking things, really. Completely inappropriate for wearing on a set. Never mind the fact that,
hello! We’re in the middle of a damned jungle!
They were obviously not the kind of thing she could have afforded to buy for herself either. Not on a PA’s salary. They were a gift from her married lover, as everyone knew, and she wore them--No, damn it, she
flaunted
them. Constantly. She was all the time tossing her head, shaking her hair back behind her ears--making sure everyone saw them, hoping everyone would comment on them. Which, of course, everyone did.”

Claire paused and heaved another sigh. “Finally, I’d had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had some time--two whole days when we weren’t shooting any of my scenes and the director had taken most of the crew off with him someplace, supposedly to shoot some B roll footage. So I decided to use that time to teach Zoe a new trick.”

She glanced at me and smiled--mischievous, reminiscent, sad all at once, somehow. “By the time they got back, we were ready. And the first time PA girl started shaking her head, Zoe flew into action. It was really quite astonishing. It took everyone by surprise, I think. She landed on the girl’s shoulder, ripped the earring from her ear and was off again like a shot. She flew up to a tree branch with it. Sat up there for the longest time chewing on the thing. She chewed the shit out of it, actually. It was almost like she thought it had been dipped in honey, or something.”

“Claire!” I gazed at her appalled. I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t picture her doing anything so vicious.

Claire shrugged. “Long days in the jungle, Mike.
Way
too much time on my hands. Anyway, the silly girl was inconsolable. You can’t even imagine. She threw such a fit that... well, you’d have thought it was her ear she’d lost rather than just an earring. I tried to help. ‘That’s how life is sometimes,’ I told her. ‘Better get used to it. Easy come, easy go. Besides, there’s a market in town--right next to the hotel, I’m sure you’ve seen it--you can pick up all sorts of cheap trinkets there.’ ‘They were a gift,’ she screamed. As if I didn’t know that! ‘Well, see?’ I said. ‘There’s a bright side for you. You didn’t even have to pay for them, right? So what did you really lose? Next time, why don’t you see if he’ll get you a pair more like these?’ And then I showed her the ones I was wearing, which, as I told her, had been a gift from my husband on our wedding day. They really were much more classy.”

I stared at her. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“No, it wasn’t, was it?” she answered still smiling, looking not the least repentant. “Oh, well.”

“So, what ended up happening?”

Claire looked at me questioningly. “What, to the PA, you mean? Actually, things turned out pretty well for her. Not long after we got home, her lover left his wife. Ripped her off for an absolutely obscene amount of money in the divorce settlement--most of which she’d earned, I might add. Then he married the little bitch, had a couple of kids with her and, a few years later, she caught him doing their nanny in the car port. Or so I hear.”

I shook my head. “If you disliked her so much, I’m amazed you bothered to keep tabs on her.”

“It’s a small town,” Claire said, with another small shrug. “You hear things.”

“So, did you do any other tricks?” I asked.

Claire glanced at me quickly. “I’m sorry... what?”

“You and Zoe--did you teach her anything else?”

“A coupla things.” Claire studied my face for a moment and then plucked a grape from the bowl of fruit on the table. “Here, Zoe,” she called softly until she got her attention. Then she placed the grape between her lips.

“Claire, no...” I felt my heart lurch as Zoe attacked the grape--but gently. Delicately. Eating it, bite by bite. And, if I didn’t think too much about it, it appeared disturbingly erotic, as though they were kissing. But macaws can crack nuts with their beaks and the fear of Claire’s soft lips being pierced or torn held me immobile, almost afraid to breathe lest I startle either of them into moving the wrong way.

“That was really dumb,” I scolded when it was over. “I can’t believe you did that. Do you know how easily she could have ripped your lip apart with her beak? You might have needed stitches, surgery...”

Claire grinned. “Relax, Mike. We practiced this. A lot.”

“You must have.”

“Long days, lotta hours.”

“But still, what were you thinking? And, if you’d gotten hurt--wouldn’t that have delayed shooting?”

She nodded. “Oh, sure. It might have set the whole production back. The producers would have been pissed, our director would have been furious. He had a bunch of other projects lined up too, all waiting for when we got back. He probably would have lost... at least some of them if we’d fallen too far behind. But I figured it would have served him right. After all, it was mostly his fault I had so much spare time to waste.”