Phoenix Heart (7 page)

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” I said, for the fourth time. Unfortunately my sister
Maggie had been waiting at my apartment when I arrived, filthy, still wet, some
of Lance’s blood staining the sleeve of my shirt. To put it mildly, she had
freaked.

She’d been waiting on the top step at the front door of the
building. When she saw me, she flew down the steps and up the street. “Melanie!
What happened? Are you all right? I told you you shouldn’t live down here by
yourself.”

“Maggie.”

“My God, there’s blood, blood on your sleeve! You’re
bleeding.”

“Maggie.”

She grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward her car. “We’re
going to the emergency room, right now. What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Maggie!” I yelled, and she finally stopped both walking and
dragging at my arm. She stood, mouth open, staring at me. I had my back to the
morning sun and she raised a hand to shade her eyes against the glare. “I’m all
right,” I said.

“What happened?”

“There was a... small accident at the lab. The earthquake
started a fire.”

“What earthquake?”

“This morning. It shook the whole building.”

“There was no earthquake this morning.”

“Oh, well, whatever it was, it was no big deal.”

“No big deal. Have you seen yourself?”

“Yes.” I’d seen the reactions of the other pedestrians and
then caught a glimpse in a passing window. “Look, it was nothing. The fire sprinklers
came on and I got doused along with everything else.”

“What about that?” she said, pointing at the red stain on my
sleeve.

“It’s not mine,” I said, in an instant seeing Lance’s wet,
pale face, the streak of scarlet just below the hairline, the sprinkler water
pooling on his closed eyes. I took Maggie’s elbow and steered her toward the apartment
door. “Come on. I’ll tell you while I get ready to go.”

I’d explained little more, though. Maggie had been certain
since I was eight that the instant I stepped out the front door I would be
killed by a renegade Mack truck unless she was personally there to stop it. It
made me extremely careful about what I told her went on in my life. So instead
of telling her every grisly detail, I kept her busy helping me pack while I
showered and washed my hair. It was nearly one before Cheryl showed up and
opened her big mouth.

“Did you hear?” she said, stepping through the door and
walking over to the radio. “Your lab blew up.”

“Blew up!” came Maggie’s cry from the bedroom. She stormed
into the living room as Cheryl fiddled with the tuner and managed to get the all-news
station.

“Listen.”

She cranked up the volume and I heard the announcer’s voice
giving sketchy details of the explosion and fire, and of the unidentified student
who was listed in serious condition at the Medical Center. No mention of
another student who had been there at the time. I breathed a silent prayer of
thanks.

“It’s Lance what’s-his-name. The guy who got hurt,” Cheryl
said, wide-eyed. “Chuck called one of the guys he knows in the lab next door. His
professor told him that it was Lance, and that Dr. Richards was being
questioned by the police and the fire department, and that it wasn’t an
accident.”

“What do you mean, not an accident?” I said. “Of course it
was an accident.”

She shook her head. “No. They found the remnants of a bomb.”

“Bomb?”

“Did you see anything?” he’d
asked. “You must have seen something.”

“No,” I said, then cleared my throat. “No way. It couldn’t
have been.”

“I’m the only one who comes in
this early.”

“Bomb.” She sat down suddenly, and looked at me wide-eyed. “If
Chuck hadn’t been with me... God, Melanie. He might have been there. He might
have been killed.”

“No, Chuck’s not here. He told
me he wouldn’t be.”

I
shook my head, not only to dispel Cheryl’s fears, but my own ridiculous
suspicions.
I dropped down on the couch next to her and gave her
shoulders a squeeze. “He wasn’t there and he’s fine.” I smiled, but she still
looked deathly pale. “Hey, you really care about that jerk, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said and her eyes flicked up at mine and then
away.

I gave her a shake. “Cheryl, it’s okay.”

She looked back at me. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’m happy for you.”

“I mean, if you were like, I don’t know, interested in him.”

“What? You’d give him up?”

She took a deep breath, and then let it out and shook her
head. “No,” she said. “I don’t think I could.” Pink washed up into her cheeks. “I’m
sorry Melanie, but even for you I don’t think I could.”

“Cheryl.” I gave her a shake and when she finally met my
eyes I smiled. “You idiot! I’m happy for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

She let out a pent-up breath and threw her arms around me. “Oh,
good!” she said. “Oh good, because I think I love him.”

I hugged her back. “Hallelujah!”

She laughed. “No kidding!”

“Look, this is all very good and well, and I’m happy for you
Cheryl, but I want to know what the hell happened at the damned lab,” Maggie
said from the doorway.

Cheryl and I looked over from the couch. Maggie stood, arms
crossed, glaring at me.

“Maggie,” I said.

“‘A little accident at the lab,’” she mimicked.

Cheryl sat back and stared at me. “You were there?”

“Yes, but...”

“Are you all right?”

“Oh, for god’s sake! Don’t I look all right? Let’s not make
more of it than there is. Look, the limo is going to be here in less than an
hour and I’m not finished packing, I still have to dry and curl my hair, and I
haven’t picked out anything to wear. Now can we leave this business of the lab
until some other time? Maggie?”

“Okay.”

“Cheryl?”

“You haven’t picked out anything to wear?”

“No. You going to help me?”

“Sure.”

* * * *

“No, no. The pink angora. Definitely.”

I stood in my terry cloth robe in front of my oak dresser
staring into the old, beveled-glass mirror. I held up first a light green silk
blouse, then a delicate, V-neck angora sweater. Both new, both part of the
wardrobe that Cheryl and Maggie and I had spent three weekends shopping for. I
turned left, then right, then forward, and frowned at my reflection. “You sure
I can’t wear my sweatshirt and jeans?”

“Yes!” they both said.

“For heaven’s sake, put the sweater on. It’s ten to two,”
Cheryl said as she stuffed pantyhose and half-slips down into my suitcase.

Maggie stood at the closet, pulling pants, skirts, and
blouses out. “I can’t believe you didn’t pack last night.”

I pulled the pink sweater over my head, fluffed out my hair
over my shoulders and quickly applied some lipstick. “I thought I’d have plenty
of time this morning.”

“Yeah, right.” She crossed to the suitcase as Cheryl headed
for the bathroom and my make-up case. I leaned forward to inspect my eye shadow
in the mirror, wet a finger and wiped at a speck of mascara under my eye, and
then stopped, staring at my reflection, at the light brown, long curling hair,
the plain face, the nose that was too broad at the bridge, at the jaw that was
too square and the mouth that was too wide. Then I looked at the room behind
me, at Maggie folding skirts and blouses into my suitcase, at my purse near the
door with the brochures and tickets poking out, and I shivered. “Oh lord, Mags,
do I have to go?”

Maggie grinned and dropped a blouse down in the case and
smoothed it. “Right, you want me to call the airport and cancel? Okay.” She
started to pick up the phone, but then she got a good look at my face. “Hey.” She
walked over next to me and spoke to my reflection in the mirror. “What is it? This
morning?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what it is.” I didn’t
either. All of a sudden I was just terrified.

“Come on,” Maggie said. “Give.”

“I think I’m just having a critical case of pre-flight
jitters.”

She put an arm around my shoulders. “I wish you’d change
your mind and let me go with you.”

When will you learn to keep
your mouth shut, Mel?

I shrugged her arm off. “We already talked about this.” I
saw the look on her face. “Come on. Don’t do that.”

“What do you expect?”

“I expect you to understand.”

“Well, I don’t! You were going to take Cheryl.”

“That’s completely different and you know it.”

“Why? Because I’m an old married lady?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“Because you’re always looking at me like I’m going to break
into a million pieces, that’s why!”

“I am not!”

“Yes, Maggie, you are and you do. I’m a big girl. I can take
care of myself. I don’t need my big sister slash mother to ride herd on me.”

“I don’t ride herd on you.”

“Yes you do! You have ever since…” I started gathering my
make-up off the dresser.

“Ever since you were eight.” Maggie looked a question at my
reflection in the mirror. I turned, dropped the make-up into the suitcase, went
to the closet, and picked up a couple of pairs of shoes.

“Mel, I’m your sister.”

I slipped the shoes into a plastic bag and stuffed them down
in the corner of my carry-on bag. “Don’t worry; I’m learning to live with that.”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

I grabbed a bunch of underwear and jammed them down in the
corner of the suitcase. “About what? The upcoming presidential election? Fall
hemlines?”

“Why won’t you tell me what happened that night?”

I poked at the clothing in the bag, smoothed it. “You know
what happened.”

“I know what I saw at the hospital.”

“Then you know.”

Maggie grabbed my elbow and pulled me around. “There was
something else. You changed after that night.”

“Getting the crap beat out of you can do that.”

She blushed. “I know. I had the same parents, remember? But
I still say there was something different. I wish you’d talk to me.”

“Ten minutes before I leave on vacation?” I asked. “I don’t
think so.” I pulled my arm from her grasp.

“Oh, god,” she cried, “you can be such an obstinate jerk!”

“Well, my older sister helped raise me.” I brought the lid
of the suitcase down, snapped the locks, then turned to Mags and batted my
eyes. “And I want to be just like her.”

“Melanie.”

“Maggie.”

“Hey!” came Cheryl’s cry from the living room. “The limo’s
here.”

“Oh no! Blast!” I grabbed some tissues, stuffed them in my
purse, snagged my coat, and reached for the suitcase. Maggie got there ahead of
me. Our eyes met, and just for a second, a split second, with her looking at me
with so much love and compassion, the words almost came out.

But then the eight-year-old girl within screamed
No!
so loudly that I just smiled instead.

“Thanks for helping me pack, Mags.”

“Ah, Melanie.” She pulled the bag off the bed and looked so
sad for a second that I threw one arm around her and hugged her fiercely.

“It’s all right,” I whispered.

“No, it’s not,” she whispered back.

I felt tears burn, but blinked them back, then turned
quickly and headed out toward the living room. Cheryl stood at the door. I
stopped, looking at the two of them, my friend and my sister, Cheryl grinning,
Maggie beginning to smile, and I felt a little of the happiness and fun that I’d
felt in the early morning hours finally coming back.

“You look beautiful,” Maggie said and Cheryl nodded.

“Oh, what do you know,” I said and grinned.

“You be careful,” Maggie said.

Not too careful
, Cheryl mouthed behind her back, and
I laughed.

A knock at the door made me jump. “I can’t believe this is
really happening,” I said.

“Believe it,” Cheryl said and swung the door wide.

Adonis in a chauffeur’s cap stood on the other side. All
three of our jaws dropped.

“Ms. Brenner?” he asked.

“Uh, yes.”

He smiled at me, white teeth flashing, brilliant against his
darkly tanned skin. “Is this all your luggage?”

I nodded dumbly and his smile intensified as he scooped up the
bags and then stood to one side, waiting for me to pass.

“You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll be right down.”

He bowed his head, then headed for the stairs.

“Oh my god,” Cheryl whispered, coming over next to me, looking
out the door at the broad shoulders disappearing down the stairs. “If that isn’t
a good omen for a great trip, I don’t know what is.”

“Why don’t you find a way to mention to him the extra ticket
you’ve got,” Maggie said with a wicked grin. “Just casually bring it up.”

“Yeah,” I said, “right after I ask him what he’d like to
name our first born.”

“Subtle,” Cheryl said.

“Well, you guys stay up here and wipe the drool from your
chins. I’d better get going.”

They both gave me a hug, and wished me well, and when I
reached the street and looked back, they were both standing at the front
window, waving. I hadn’t wanted a big good-bye scene on the sidewalk. I just
wanted to walk elegantly and casually out the front door and climb into the
limo as if I owned it. Adonis stood at the door, holding it for me, and I
smiled casually for the benefit of my downstairs neighbor, Barb Greenly, who,
bless her, had chosen that moment to come outside with her baby and her mother-in-law.
They stopped dead, staring at the long white limousine, at the handsome,
black-haired young man holding the door, and at me stepping in and sitting down
on the plush leather seats. A better exit I couldn’t have planned.

As Adonis shut the door, I waved one last time up at Maggie
and Cheryl, though I don’t think they could see me through the tinted window
glass. I settled back in the seat and stretched my fingers wide and ran them
over the expanse of soft leather. The inside of the car was enormous. Seats
faced me from across an expanse of thick plush carpet; between the seats were a
small inset television, a DVD player, and below them, a small bar.