The Collector
Page 92
She rose up to her toes, tugged his head back to hers. Kissed him back. “Thanks.”
“For?”
“First, for stowing my excess at your place, and taking my cast-offs away. I didn’t thank you.”
“You were too busy telling me I didn’t have to bother.”
“I know. It’s a little problem, but I’m thanking you now. Next, thanks for the trip—whatever the main purpose, I’m going to Italy, one of my favorite places. I’m going with my best friend and her guy, who I like a lot. And I’m going with you. So thanks.”
“I’m going with my best friend, and his lady, and with you. Thanks back.”
“One more thanks, this time in advance. Thanks for not thinking less of me when we get on the private jet and I can’t hold back the squeal. Plus there are bound to be buttons and controls for various devices—I looked up the G4. I’m going to want to play with all of them. And talk to the pilots, talk them into letting me sit in the cockpit for a while. Some of this might embarrass you.”
“Lila.” He guided her off the elevator. “I’ve herded teenage girls around Europe. Nothing embarrasses me.”
“It’s a good thing. So, buon viaggio to us.”
She took his hand, walked out with him.
Twenty-two
She didn’t squeal, but she did play with everything. Before the wheels were up she’d progressed to first-name basis with the pilot, copilot and their flight attendant.
Minutes after they boarded, she followed the flight attendant into the galley for a tutorial.
“There’s a convection oven,” she announced. “Not just a microwave, but an actual oven.”
“You cooking?” Ash wondered.
“I could, if it was like 2012—the movie—and we had to fly to China. And we have BBML. You didn’t say anything about BBML.”
“Possibly because I don’t know what it is.”
“Broad band multi-link. We can e-mail while we’re flying over the Atlantic. I have to e-mail somebody. I love technology.”
She did a little turn in the aisle. “And there’s flowers in the bathroom. That’s so nice.”
She laughed at the pop of the champagne cork, said, “Hot damn!”
And drank deep.
She embraced, Ash thought. Maybe he’d seen that without recognizing it in that first meeting, even through the grief, the anger, the shock. Her openness to the new, interest in whatever came her way. And what seemed to be an absolute refusal to take anything for granted.
He could enjoy this, with her and friends, this in-between. New York and death behind, Italy with whatever they found ahead. But these hours spread into a welcome limbo.
Somewhere over the Atlantic, after a lovely little meal and wine, she made her way to the cockpit.
He had no doubt that before she was done she’d have the life stories of the pilots. It wouldn’t surprise him if they let her take the controls for a stretch.
“She’ll be flying us before she comes out,” Julie said.
“I was just thinking that.”
“You already know her well. She’s getting used to you.”
“Is she?”
“It’s hard for her to accept things she didn’t earn, to accept someone giving her a hand, and even more, to let herself rely on someone. But she’s getting used to you. As someone who loves her a whole lot, it’s good to see. I’m going to settle in with my book for a while.”
She rose to move to the front of the cabin, kicked her seat back, snuggled in.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me. Again.”
Ash blinked at Luke. “What?”
“We said we were going to take it slow.” He looked forward, toward the bright fire of her hair. “If she says no, wants to wait, I’m okay with it. But she’s going to marry me sooner or later. I’d rather sooner.”
“A month ago you swore you’d never get married again. You weren’t even drunk.”
“Because there’s only one Julie, and I thought I’d blown it with her. Or we’d blown it with each other,” Luke qualified. “I’m going to buy a ring in Florence, and ask her. I thought I should tell you as we have an agenda, and I’m in for whatever you need. I just need to fit that in.”
He poured the last of the champagne into their glasses. “Wish me luck.”
“I do. And I don’t have to ask if you’re sure. I can see that.”
“Never been surer.” He looked toward the front of the cabin. “Don’t say anything to Lila. She’d try to keep it zipped, but girlfriends have a code. I think.”
“It’s in the vault. You’re breaking Katrina’s heart.”
On a laugh, Luke shook his head. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious. Thanks for that. She’ll stop texting me, trying to get me to bring you to a club, or go sailing, or whatever other ploy she thinks of.”
“She does that? She’s twelve.”
“She’s twenty, and yeah, she does that. I’ve been your shield, man. You owe me.”
“You can be my best man.”
“I already am.”
He thought about being sure and moving ahead, about accepting. He thought about his brother, who had always tried to grab too much and held on to nothing.
He slept lightly when Lila finally wound down and stretched out beside him. When he woke in the darkened cabin with her curled toward him, he knew what he wanted.
He’d always known what he wanted, found the way to get it.
But now it was someone he wanted, not something. To win Lila, he needed more than her acceptance, but he wasn’t quite sure what the more was. How could he see clearly when so much blocked the way?
Death brought them together. They’d gone beyond that, but it remained the start. Death and what had followed, and now what they pursued together.
They needed resolution, both of them, to see the way clear.
He checked his watch, saw they’d land in just over an hour.
The in-between was almost done.
They walked off the plane into Italian sunshine and to a waiting car with a young, flirty driver named Lanzo. With cheerful and excellent English he welcomed them to Florence, vowed to be at their disposal anytime, night or day, during their visit.
“My cousin owns a trattoria very near your hotel. I have a card for you. You will have most wonderful service. My sister, she works at the Uffizi, and she can arrange for you a tour. A private one if you wish it.”
“For?”
“First, for stowing my excess at your place, and taking my cast-offs away. I didn’t thank you.”
“You were too busy telling me I didn’t have to bother.”
“I know. It’s a little problem, but I’m thanking you now. Next, thanks for the trip—whatever the main purpose, I’m going to Italy, one of my favorite places. I’m going with my best friend and her guy, who I like a lot. And I’m going with you. So thanks.”
“I’m going with my best friend, and his lady, and with you. Thanks back.”
“One more thanks, this time in advance. Thanks for not thinking less of me when we get on the private jet and I can’t hold back the squeal. Plus there are bound to be buttons and controls for various devices—I looked up the G4. I’m going to want to play with all of them. And talk to the pilots, talk them into letting me sit in the cockpit for a while. Some of this might embarrass you.”
“Lila.” He guided her off the elevator. “I’ve herded teenage girls around Europe. Nothing embarrasses me.”
“It’s a good thing. So, buon viaggio to us.”
She took his hand, walked out with him.
Twenty-two
She didn’t squeal, but she did play with everything. Before the wheels were up she’d progressed to first-name basis with the pilot, copilot and their flight attendant.
Minutes after they boarded, she followed the flight attendant into the galley for a tutorial.
“There’s a convection oven,” she announced. “Not just a microwave, but an actual oven.”
“You cooking?” Ash wondered.
“I could, if it was like 2012—the movie—and we had to fly to China. And we have BBML. You didn’t say anything about BBML.”
“Possibly because I don’t know what it is.”
“Broad band multi-link. We can e-mail while we’re flying over the Atlantic. I have to e-mail somebody. I love technology.”
She did a little turn in the aisle. “And there’s flowers in the bathroom. That’s so nice.”
She laughed at the pop of the champagne cork, said, “Hot damn!”
And drank deep.
She embraced, Ash thought. Maybe he’d seen that without recognizing it in that first meeting, even through the grief, the anger, the shock. Her openness to the new, interest in whatever came her way. And what seemed to be an absolute refusal to take anything for granted.
He could enjoy this, with her and friends, this in-between. New York and death behind, Italy with whatever they found ahead. But these hours spread into a welcome limbo.
Somewhere over the Atlantic, after a lovely little meal and wine, she made her way to the cockpit.
He had no doubt that before she was done she’d have the life stories of the pilots. It wouldn’t surprise him if they let her take the controls for a stretch.
“She’ll be flying us before she comes out,” Julie said.
“I was just thinking that.”
“You already know her well. She’s getting used to you.”
“Is she?”
“It’s hard for her to accept things she didn’t earn, to accept someone giving her a hand, and even more, to let herself rely on someone. But she’s getting used to you. As someone who loves her a whole lot, it’s good to see. I’m going to settle in with my book for a while.”
She rose to move to the front of the cabin, kicked her seat back, snuggled in.
“I’m going to ask her to marry me. Again.”
Ash blinked at Luke. “What?”
“We said we were going to take it slow.” He looked forward, toward the bright fire of her hair. “If she says no, wants to wait, I’m okay with it. But she’s going to marry me sooner or later. I’d rather sooner.”
“A month ago you swore you’d never get married again. You weren’t even drunk.”
“Because there’s only one Julie, and I thought I’d blown it with her. Or we’d blown it with each other,” Luke qualified. “I’m going to buy a ring in Florence, and ask her. I thought I should tell you as we have an agenda, and I’m in for whatever you need. I just need to fit that in.”
He poured the last of the champagne into their glasses. “Wish me luck.”
“I do. And I don’t have to ask if you’re sure. I can see that.”
“Never been surer.” He looked toward the front of the cabin. “Don’t say anything to Lila. She’d try to keep it zipped, but girlfriends have a code. I think.”
“It’s in the vault. You’re breaking Katrina’s heart.”
On a laugh, Luke shook his head. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious. Thanks for that. She’ll stop texting me, trying to get me to bring you to a club, or go sailing, or whatever other ploy she thinks of.”
“She does that? She’s twelve.”
“She’s twenty, and yeah, she does that. I’ve been your shield, man. You owe me.”
“You can be my best man.”
“I already am.”
He thought about being sure and moving ahead, about accepting. He thought about his brother, who had always tried to grab too much and held on to nothing.
He slept lightly when Lila finally wound down and stretched out beside him. When he woke in the darkened cabin with her curled toward him, he knew what he wanted.
He’d always known what he wanted, found the way to get it.
But now it was someone he wanted, not something. To win Lila, he needed more than her acceptance, but he wasn’t quite sure what the more was. How could he see clearly when so much blocked the way?
Death brought them together. They’d gone beyond that, but it remained the start. Death and what had followed, and now what they pursued together.
They needed resolution, both of them, to see the way clear.
He checked his watch, saw they’d land in just over an hour.
The in-between was almost done.
They walked off the plane into Italian sunshine and to a waiting car with a young, flirty driver named Lanzo. With cheerful and excellent English he welcomed them to Florence, vowed to be at their disposal anytime, night or day, during their visit.
“My cousin owns a trattoria very near your hotel. I have a card for you. You will have most wonderful service. My sister, she works at the Uffizi, and she can arrange for you a tour. A private one if you wish it.”
