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Elizabeth checked her to do list for the final time.
Mail packages
Pick up dry cleaning
Stop mail
Stop milk delivery
Change batteries in smoke detectors
Confirm seats
Everything was done. By this time tomorrow, shed be at her dads house, with her daughters and family around her, celebrating an old-fashioned Christmas.
After one last obsessive-compulsive pass through the house, she grabbed her purse and headed for the car.
But as she stepped out onto the porch, light spilled down from the quilted gray sky in flashlight-bright beams. It was what the locals called a "sunbreak. " Her yard looked magical in this light, like a long-forgotten corner of some enchanted forest.
She stared at the cement pavers that ran like Gretels white rocks to the edge of the property. They seemed to invite her to come forward.
Instead, she went to her car.
She made it to Portland in good time. For once, it wasnt raining, and the downtown streets were quiet. She supposed it was a sad reflection of the times. In years past--especially in the dot. com years--these streets had been crowded with holiday shoppers. Last year shed had to wait almost an hour in the Meier and Frank wrapping area; this year, thered been no line at all.
At the station, she parked in the visitors section of the underground lot and went upstairs to the lobby.
"Hi, Eleanor," she said to the nose-ringed receptionist. "Happy holidays. "
"Hey, Miz Shore. I dont celebrate Christmas--too commercialized--but thanks anyway. Same to you. "
Elizabeth restrained a smile. She had never been that passionate and questioning, even in her youth. While some of her sorority sisters had spent long nights in the B&O Espresso on Capitol Hill, arguing about the political upheaval in Iran, shed quietly immersed herself in painting.
In retrospect, she wished shed rebelled a little more. A nose-ring-wearing, tattooed past would probably have done a woman like her a world of good.
She went upstairs and found Jacks office empty. Glancing worriedly at her watch, she hurried down to the studio, checked in, and slipped into the darkened room. There were fewer people in here than usual--probably a skeleton crew because of the holidays.
Jack was behind the big desk on set. In full makeup, with the lights bright on his face, he looked movie-star handsome. As usual. It was unfair, she thought suddenly, that hed held on to his youth while hers seemed to be sliding south.
". . . In this exclusive report," he was saying, "Channel 6 has uncovered a number of sexual misconduct allegations made against Panther center, Drew Grayland. In the past two years, four different women have made rape or sexual misconduct reports against Mr. Grayland. Campus officials did not turn these reports over to the Portland police, according to Police Chief Stephen Landis. Olympic University athletic director, Bill Seagel, had no comment today when apprised of the allegations, except to say that to his knowledge no criminal charges had been filed against Grayland. Coach Rivers confirmed that his star center will start against UCLA next week. This story is one we are continuing to follow; well bring you live updates as information becomes available. "
Jack smiled at the female anchor beside him. They spoke for a second or two, then Jack took off his microphone and stood up. As he crossed the room, he noticed Elizabeth and grinned broadly. He grabbed her hand and led her back to his office, laughing
as he kicked the door shut behind them.
"Can you believe it, Birdie? I did it. " He laughed. "This is the story Ive been working on for the past week. With any luck, the networks will pick it up. " He swept her into his arms and lifted her off her feet.
She laughed along with him. No one did success like her husband. It had always been that way. In the good times, Jack was a rushing torrent of water that swept you away.
He loosened his hold, and she slid back down to the floor.
They stared at each other; their smiles slowly faded. After a long, awkward moment, she said, "Are you ready to go?" She glanced down at her watch. "Our plane leaves in two hours. "
Jack frowned. "We leave tomorrow. "
Son of a bitch. Hed done it again.
She was proud of her control when she said simply, "No. We leave today. December twenty-second. "
