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She slid a glance at Eddy when she mentioned Fancy’s name. His eyes focused on her sharply, but he returned his attention to Tate. “Before we land, get rid of that tie.”
“What’s the matter with it?”
“It looks like shit, that’s what’s the matter with it.”
For once, Avery sided with Eddy. Tate’s necktie wasn’t the most attractive one she’d ever seen, but she resented Eddy being so tactless about pointing it out.
“Here, switch with me,” Jack suggested, tugging at the knot of his tie.
“No, yours is worse,” Eddy said with characteristic candor. “Switch with me.”
“Fuck you both and fuck the tie,” Tate said. He flopped back in the airplane’s plush seat. “Leave me alone.” Resting his head on the cushion, he closed his eyes, effectively shutting out everybody.
Avery applauded him for telling them off, even though he had shut her out, too. Since the night in Houston when they had come so close to making love, Tate had taken even greater strides to keep his distance from her. That wasn’t always easy because they had to share a bathroom, if not a bed. They went to ridiculous pains to avoid being seen unclothed. They never touched. When they spoke, they usually snapped at each other like two animals who had been sharing the same cage for too long.
Tate’s even breathing could soon be heard over the drone of the airplane’s engines. He could fall asleep almost instantly, sleep for several minutes, and wake up refreshed—a skill he had developed while in Vietnam, he had told her. She liked watching him sleep and often did so during the night when she found her mind too troubled to give over to unconsciousness.
“Do something.”
Eddy had leaned across the narrow aisle of the airplane and roused her from her woolgathering. He and Jack were glaring at her like interrogators. “About what?”
“About Tate.”
“What do you want me to do? Start picking out his neckties?”
“Convince him to let me retain that P.R. firm.”
“Don’t you feel that you’re doing an adequate job, Eddy?” she asked coolly.
Belligerently, he thrust his face close to hers. “You think I’m ruthless? Those guys wouldn’t take any of your crap.”
“What crap?” she shot back.
“Like your screening Tate’s calls.”
“If you’re referring to last night, he was already asleep when you phoned. He needed the rest. He was exhausted.”
“When I want to talk to him, I want to talk to him right then,” he said, jabbing the space between them. “Got that, Carole? Now, about these professionals—”
“He doesn’t want them. He thinks they build a phony, plastic image and so do I.”
“Nobody asked you,” Jack said.
“When I have an opinion about my husband’s campaign, I’ll bloody well express it, and you can go to the devil if you don’t like it!”
“Do you want to be a senator’s wife or not?”
A silent moment elapsed while they collectively cooled their tempers. Eddy went on in a conciliatory tone, “Do whatever it takes to get Tate out of this rotten, short-tempered mood, Carole. It’s self-destructive.”
“The crowds don’t know he’s in a foul mood.”
“But the volunteers do.”
“Jack’s right,” Eddy said. “Several have noticed and commented on it. It’s demoralizing. They want their hero on top of the world and radiating a lust for life, not moping around. Get him right with the world, Carole.” Having concluded his pep talk, Eddy resumed his seat and went back to scanning his notes.
Jack frowned at her. “You’re the one who’s put him in this blue funk. You’re the only one who can get him out. Don’t play like you don’t know how, because we all know better.”
The heated exchange left Avery feeling frustrated and unable to do anything about a bad situation they clearly blamed on her.
