Full Circle (23 page)

“Hi, Tan.” Harry looked unhappy and uncomfortable. It was easier before his father had come. Now he had to deal with him, and his grief too. Tana was so much easier to have around, she always understood how he felt. His father never had.

“How do you feel?” For an instant, they both ignored the older man, as though deriving strength from each other first. Tana didn't even know what to say to him.

“I'm okay.” But he looked a lot less than that, and then he looked from her to the well-dressed man. “Father, this is Tana Roberts, my friend.” The elder Wins-low said very little, but he held out his hand. He almost looked at her as though she were an intrusion. He wanted the details of how Harry had gotten there. He had reached London from South Africa the day before, had gotten the telegrams that were waiting for him, and had flown to San Francisco at once, but he hadn't realized until he arrived what the full implications were. He was still reeling from the shock. Harry had just told him that he would be confined to a wheelchair for life, before Tana walked into the room. He hadn't wasted much time in telling him, and he hadn't been gentle or kind. But he didn't have to be, as far as he was concerned. They were his legs, and if they weren't going to work anymore, that was his problem, no one else's, and he could talk about it any way he wanted to. And he wasn't mincing words just then. “Tan, this is my father, Harrison Winslow,” a sarcastic tone came into his voice, “the Third.” Nothing between them had changed. Not even now. And his father looked chagrined.

“Would you like to be alone?” Tana's eyes went back and forth between the two men and it was easy to read that Harry would not, and his father would prefer that they were. “I'll go get a cup of tea.” She glanced at his father with a cautious glance. “Would you like some, too?”

He hesitated, and then nodded his head. “Yes, thanks. Very much.” He smiled, and it was impossible not to notice how devastatingly handsome he was, even here, in a hospital, in his son's room, listening to bad news. There was an incredible depth to the blue eyes, a strength about the chiselled jaw line, something both gentle and decisive about his hands. It was difficult to see him as the villain Harry had described, but she had to take Harry's word for it. Yet sudden doubts began to come to mind, as she took her time going to the cafeteria to get their tea. She returned in slightly less than half an hour, wondering if she should leave and come back the following day, or later that night. She had all that studying to do anyway, but there was a dogged look in Harry's eyes when she returned, as though he wanted to be rescued from his father, and the nurse saw it too when she came in, and not knowing what was causing Harry's distress, or who, in a little while she asked them both to leave. Tana bent to kiss Harry goodbye and he whispered in her ear.

“Come back tonight … if you can.…”

“Okay.” She kissed his cheek, and made a mental note to call the nurses first. But it was Christmas Eve, after all, and she thought maybe he didn't want to be alone. She wondered too if he and his father had just had an argument. His father glanced back over his shoulder at him, sighed unhappily as they left the room, and walked down the hall. His head was bowed, as he stared at his highly polished shoes, and Tana was afraid to say anything. And she felt like a total slob in her scuffed loafers and jeans, but she hadn't expected to meet anyone there, least of all the legendary Harrison Winslow III. She was even more startled when he suddenly turned to her.

“How does he seem to you?”

Tana took a sharp breath. “I don't know yet … it's too soon … I think he's still in shock.” Harrison Winslow nodded. So was he. He had spoken to the doctor before coming upstairs, and there was absolutely nothing they could do. Harry's spinal cord had been so badly damaged, the neurosurgeon had explained, that he would never walk again. They had made some repairs, and there would be more surgery in the next six months, and there were some things about which he was very pleased. They had told Harry as much, but it was too soon for it all to have set in. The best news of all was that he would be able to make love, with some instruction, but that part of his nervous system still functioned, to a degree, and although he wouldn't have complete feeling or total control, he still had a considerable amount of sensation there. “He could even have a family,” the doctor told his father as he stared, but there were other things that he would never do, like walk or dance, or run or ski … tears filled the father's eyes as he thought of it, and then he remembered the girl walking along at his side. She was pretty, he had noticed her when he first saw her walking down the hall, and had been struck by the lovely face, the big green eyes, the graceful way she moved, and had been surprised to see her walk into Harry's room.

“I take it you and Harry are close friends?” It was odd, Harry had never mentioned the girl to him, but Harry never mentioned anything to him anyway.

“We are. We've been friends for four years.”

He decided not to beat around the bush as they stood in the lobby of Letterman hospital. But he wanted to know what he was up against, and maybe this was the time to find out. Just how involved was Harry with this girl, another casual affair, a hidden love, maybe even hidden wife? He had Harry's financial affairs to think of, too, even if the boy wasn't sophisticated enough yet to protect himself. “Axe you in love with him?” His eyes bore into hers and she was momentarily stunned.

“I … no … I … that is,” she wasn't sure why he had asked, “I love him very much … but we … I'm not ‘involved with him’ physically, if that's what you mean.” She flushed to the roots of her hair to be explaining that to him and he smiled apologetically.

“I'm sorry to even ask you a thing like that, but if you know Harry well, you know how he Is. I never know what the hell is going on and I assume that one of these days I'll arrive and find out that he has a wife and three kids.” Tana laughed. It was unlikely but not impossible. More likely three mistresses. And she suddenly realized that she was finding it difficult to dislike him as much as Harry would want her to, in fact, she wasn't sure she disliked him at all.

He was obviously powerful, and not afraid to ask what he wanted to know. He looked her over now, glanced at his watch, and at the limousine waiting at the curb outside for him. “Would you come to have a cup of coffee with me somewhere? At my hotel perhaps? I'm staying at the Stanford Court, but I could have the driver take you back to wherever you like afterwards. Does that sound all right?” Actually, it sounded faintly traitorous to her, but she didn't know what to say to him. The poor man had been through a lot, too, and he had come an awfully long way.

“I … I really should get back … I have an awful lot of studying to do.…” She blushed and he looked hurt, and suddenly she was sorry for him. As elegant and dashing as he was, there was at the same time something vulnerable about him. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude. It's just…”

“I know.” He looked at her with a rueful smile that melted her heart. “He's told you what a bastard I am. But it's Christmas Eve, you know. It might do us both good to go and talk for a while. I've had a hell of a shock, and you must have too.” She nodded sadly and followed him to the car. The driver opened the door and she got in, and Harrison Winslow sat next to her on the gray velvet seat. He looked pensive as the city slid by and it seemed moments later when they reached Nob Hill, and drove down the east face of it, turning sharply into the courtyard of the Stanford Court. “Harry and I have had a rough time of it over the years. Somehow we never managed to hit it off.…” He almost seemed to be talking to himself as she watched his face. He didn't look as ruthless as Harry had described. In fact, he didn't look ruthless at all. He looked lonely and sad, and he seemed very much alone. Harrison looked pointedly at Tana then. “You're a beautiful girl … inside as well, I suspect. Harry is lucky to have you as a friend.”

And the oddest thing about her was something Harry couldn't really have known. She looked so much like his mother at the same age. It was uncanny as Harrison watched her step lightly out of the car, and he followed her into the hotel. They went to the Potpourri restaurant and slid into a booth. He seemed to be constantly watching her, as though trying to understand who she was, and what she meant to his son. He found it difficult to believe that she was only his “friend,” as she claimed, and yet she was insistent about that as they talked and she had no reason to lie to him.

Tana smiled as she watched his eyes. “My mother feels the same way about it that you do, Mr. Winslow. She keeps telling me that ‘boys and girls can't be friends,’ and I tell her she's wrong. That's exactly what Harry and I are … he's my best friend in the whole world … he's like a brother to me.…” Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away thinking of what had happened to him. “… I'll do anything I can to help make him all right again.” She looked at Harrison Winslow defiantly, not angry at him, but at the fate which had crippled his son. “I will, you'll see … I won't just let him lie there on his ass,” she blushed at the word, but went on, “I'm going to get him up and moving and giving a damn again.” She looked at him strangely then. “I have an idea, but I have to talk to Harry about it first.” He was intrigued. Maybe she had designs on the boy after all, but he didn't think that would be so bad now. Aside from being pretty, she was obviously bright and the girl had a hell of a lot of spunk. When she spoke, her eyes lit up like green fire, and he knew that she meant everything she said.

“What kind of idea?” He was intrigued by her, and if he hadn't been so worried about his son, he would have been amused.

She hesitated. He'd probably think she was crazy, particularly if he was as unambitious as Harry said. “I don't know … it probably sounds crazy to you, but I thought … I don't know.…” It was embarrassing, admitting it to him. “I thought that maybe I could get him to go to law school with me. Even if he never uses it, it would be good for him, especially now.”

“Are you serious?” There were laugh lines coming to light beside Harrison Winslow's eyes. “Law school? My son?” He patted her hand with a grin, she was an amazing child, a little ball of fire, but he wouldn't put anything past this girl, including that. “If you can talk him into that, especially now,” his face sobered rapidly, “you really would be even more remarkable than I think you are.”

“I'm going to give it a try when he's well enough to listen to me.”

“That'll be a while, I'm afraid.” They both nodded silently, and in the silence heard someone singing carols outside, and then suddenly Tana looked at him.

“Why do you see so little of him?” She had to ask, she had nothing to lose, and if he got angry with her, she could always leave. He couldn't do anything to her, but he didn't actually look upset as he gazed into her eyes.

“Honestly? Because Harry and I have been a lost cause until now. I tried for a long, long time, but I never got anywhere. He's hated me ever since he was a small boy, and it's only gotten worse over the years. There was no point inflicting new wounds after a while. It's a big world, I have a lot to do, he has his own life to lead,” tears flooded his eyes and he looked away, “… or at least he did, until now.…”

She reached across the table and touched his hand. “He will again. I promise you … if he lives … oh, God … if he lives … please God, don't let him die.” Tears flooded her eyes, too, and she brushed them from her cheeks. “He's so wonderful, Mr. Winslow, he's the best friend I've ever had.”

“I wish I could say the same.” He looked sad. “We're almost strangers by now. I felt like an intruder in his room today.”

“Maybe that's because I was there. I should have left you two alone.”

“It wouldn't make any difference anymore. It's gone too far, for too long. We're strangers now.”

“You don't have to be.” She was talking to him as though she knew the man, and somehow he didn't seem so impressive any more, no matter how worldly or debonair or handsome or sophisticated he was. He was only another human being, with a devastating problem on his hands, a very sick son. “You could make friends with him now.”

Harrison Winslow shook his head, and after a moment he smiled at her. He thought Tana a remarkably beautiful girl, and he suddenly wondered again exactly what the story was between Harry and this girl. His son was too much of a libertine, in his own way, to let an opportunity like this pass him by, unless he cared about her even more than she knew … maybe that was it … maybe Harry was in love with her … he had to be. It couldn't be what she said it was between them. It seemed impossible to him.

“It's too late, my friend. Much, much too late. And in his eyes, my sins are unforgivable.” He sighed. “I suppose I'd feel the same way in his shoes.” He looked unwaveringly at her now. “He thinks I killed his mother, you know. She committed suicide when he was four.”

She almost choked on her words. “I know.” And the look in his eyes was devastating, raw pain that still lived in his soul. His love for her had never died, nor had his love for their son. “She was dying of cancer and she didn't want anyone to know. In the end, it would have disfigured her, and she couldn't have tolerated that. She'd already had two operations before she died … and…” he almost stopped, but went on, “… it was terrible for her … for all of us … Harry knew she was sick then, but he doesn't remember it now. It doesn't matter anyway. She couldn't live with the operations, the pain, and I couldn't bear to watch her suffer. What she did was a terrible thing, but I always understood. She was so young, so beautiful. She was very much like you, in fact, and almost a child herself.…” He wasn't ashamed of the tears in his eyes, and Tana looked at him, horrified.

“Why doesn't Harry know?”

“She made me promise I'd never tell.” He sat back against the banquette as though he'd been punched. The feeling of despair over her death never really went away. He had tried to run away from it for years, with Harry at first, with women, with girls, with anyone, and finally by himself. He was fifty-two years old and he had discovered that there was only so far he could run, and he couldn't run that far anymore. The memories were there, the sorrow, the loss … and now Harry might go too … he couldn't bear the thought as he looked at this lovely young girl, so full of life, so filled with hope. It was almost impossible to explain it all to her, it was all so long ago. “People felt differently about cancer then … it was almost as though one had to be ashamed of it. I didn't agree with her at the time, but she was adamant that Harry not know. She left me a very long letter at the time. She took an overdose of pills when I went to Boston overnight to see my great aunt. She wanted Harry to think her flighty and beautiful, and romantic, but not riddled with disease, and so she went … she's a heroine to him.” He smiled sadly at Tana. “And she was to me. It was a sad way to die, but the other way would have been so much worse. I never blamed her for what she did.”