“Give Glen my apologies.”
Demos rang off after a few more comments about how light her schedule was, so no problem.
“She told me it was because models were people too and there was simply too much tempting food around during the holidays.”
“True. Well, good luck, Taylor. Ah, listen. You take good care of her, all right? No moves on her, you got that? I’ll call tomorrow.”
“No moves, Demos.”
He looked over at her as he lowered the phone. Who are you? he wondered silently.
On Sunday she still tired easily, but felt pretty much back to normal. He’d spent both Friday and Saturday nights with her. When she awoke Sunday morning lying against him, she didn’t leap away. She stayed where she was, warm and content, because she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
They were on the point of going out because the Sunday afternoon was bright and clear and not too cold when the phone rang. Taylor motioned for her to sit down and answered it.
“Who is this?”
“My name is Taylor and I’m a friend of Eden’s.”
“Er, Eden. Oh, I see. This is her grandmother. May I speak with her?”
He handed over the phone. Eden said nothing of consequence and he knew she didn’t because he was there and she didn’t want him to know anything about her grandmother. It angered him.
When she hung up, he said, “She sounds very nice.”
“She is.”
“Where does she live?”
She hesitated; then, “In San Francisco.”
“Is she old?”
“Very.”
“Let’s go Christmas shopping.” They went to FAO Schwarz on Fifth Avenue because Eden said she had a niece.
“What’s her name?”
“Melissa. She’s three. She lives in Italy.”
“Your sister or your brother?”
“Half-sister.”
He accepted the withdrawal. They remained in the astonishing toy store to purchase presents for his two nephews and niece in Phoenix. When he picked up a kite with a dragon tail, she laughed. “It’s wonderful. I had one just like it when I was about six years old.”
“Oh,” he said. “I thought I’d get it for myself.”
She laughed some more and he grinned like a besotted fool. They were examining teddy bears when Taylor said, “Do you want to have children?”
“Oh, yes.” Then she jerked back, striking a display. At least twenty teddy bears went flying. FAO Schwarz salespeople were known for being unflappable; this accident was nothing to them. The bears were quickly rearranged. Lindsay felt like an idiot. She saw Taylor looking at her, a clear question in his eyes, and heard herself say, “Children are wonderful, really, but all of us can’t, that is, it’s impossible, and I almost accept it, but sometimes, just sometimes it makes me sad and—”
Taylor said easily, as he carefully checked over a set of outdoor darts, “I want kids too. I didn’t realize it until recently. Men must have a biological clock as well as women, because all of a sudden I could see myself washing a station wagon, a flea-bitten dog rushing around shaking off dirty water, and three kids all hollering and climbing over me.”
“It sounds nice.”
“I guess a wife would have to be lurking about in that picture somewhere.”
“Unless you’re a biological wonder. Maybe she’s the one hosing you down.”
He set the dart set back onto the shelf and moved to the toy army tanks. “You’re still a young woman, Eden. What are you, twenty-five?”
“Twenty-six.” She thought he knew that and frowned at him, wondering what he was thinking about now. He was fast and slippery as a snake, getting things out of her so effortlessly that it was terrifying.
“You’ve got lots of time. Come to think of it, I’m a young sprout myself, a mere thirty-two. Why don’t we both wait two or three more years?”
And she said, staring at the 1885 A. E. Mecklin antique train set just to her right, “All right.”
He lightly touched his fingers to her cheek. He leaned over and kissed her lightly, in the middle of FAO Schwarz. “Good,” he said.
She was exhausted. He was content. Together they’d spent two hundred dollars on the children’s toys, and both were delighted. On their way back to her apartment, Lindsay nearly in a stupor, Taylor, without too much difficulty got her to volunteer that she also had parents who lived in San Francisco. Progress, he thought, pleased, feeling not a bit guilty at taking advantage of her while she was still down.
She fell asleep during the Redskins–San Francisco 49ers game, once it was obvious that the Redskins would smash the 49ers. She slept, cuddled against his chest, his arms around her.
He left that night, not wanting to push her in any way. To his delight, she kissed him at the door. Not a passionate, soul-deep kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re very kind.” He walked home whistling. Kindness was just fine for a while.
They became a couple after her bout with stomach flu. It scared Lindsay when she thought about it, but she was so happy she refused to heed any inner warnings that he was still a man and he would want her and he was strong enough to do whatever he wanted to with her. They spent time with Enoch and Sheila. They even spent some evenings out with Demos and Glen and Demos and other women, all gorgeous, all beside him so that his reputation for being a ruthless playboy would be continued. Demos loved the “ruthless” part. A columnist had dubbed him that and he kept the clipping, now yellowing, on his desk, under glass.
Lindsay mailed Melissa’s Christmas present on December 4. Not ten minutes after she got back to her apartment, Dr. Gruska called. She had no idea how he had found out her unlisted number. She was sweating and clammy after she’d hung up on him. She called the phone company immediately and secured another unlisted number.
She said nothing to Taylor about the call, but she discovered she was watchful and felt low-grade fear whenever she came out of her apartment building. Evidently Dr. Gruska hadn’t discovered her address, thank God. She could handle him if he did come, she was certain she could, but she simply didn’t want to. She didn’t want to have to run again.
Christmas approached in a snowstorm that turned quickly into a blizzard and grounded Lindsay’s plane to San Francisco. She wasn’t going anywhere and she was delighted. She called up and gave her apologies. For the first time in her adult life she spent a quiet Christmas with a man. It was incredible, the feelings that poured through her. She gave him the newest smallest cell phone. It fit neatly into his shirt pocket. He programmed in her number the first thing. He gave her an Epilady razor, telling her that her razors were now his alone.
When Taylor handed her a box that announced Tiffany’s, Lindsay hesitated. Her hands began to tremble.
“Open it.”
She did, careful not to shred the paper, so careful, so exacting. So frightened. She slowly pulled back the lid to discover another, smaller box nestled inside. It was a ring box. Inside, settled firmly in lush black velvet, was a marquise diamond ring. She gasped aloud, she couldn’t help it. It was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen in her life. And it was more than a ring. Much more. Oh, God. She looked over at him, frozen, scared, excited.
“Marry me, Eden. Marry me.”
She stared at him. She wanted to yell that she wasn’t Eden. He’d asked a woman who wasn’t real to marry him, a woman who was a lie, a fraud, a sham. She was afraid to touch the ring, afraid of what she’d say, afraid she’d fall apart and weep all over herself, all over him. She drew deep upon herself and said slowly, “I can’t marry you, Taylor, because I’m not what you think I am, or who you think I am.”
He smiled at that, and said, “It doesn’t matter that your name isn’t Eden and that it’s Lynn. Lynn is a nice name, a solid name, a name with substance. I can tolerate Lynn.”