at last.
28
"I guess this is good-bye, Jean. It's been good to see you again." Mark Fleischman was holding his card in his hand. "I'll give you mine if you'll give me yours," he said, smiling.
"Of course." Jean dug into her bag and pulled a card out of her wallet. "I'm glad you were able to make the brunch after all."
"I am, too. When do you leave?"
"I'm staying at the hotel for a few days more. A little research project." Jean tried to sound casual.
"I tape some shows in Boston tomorrow. Otherwise I'd stay and ask you to join me for a quiet dinner tonight." He hesitated, then bent down and kissed her cheek. "Again, as people say, it's been good
to
see you."
"Goodbye, Mark." Jean caught herself before adding, "Give me a call if you plan to be in Washington." For an instant their hands lingered together, then he was gone.
Carter Stewart and Gordon Amory were standing together, saying final good-byes to the dispersing classmates. Jean walked over to them. Before she could speak, Gordon asked, "Have you heard from Laura?"
"Not yet."
"Laura's unreliable. That's another reason her career has tanked.
She has a history of keeping people waiting, but Alison had been moving heaven and earth to get her a job. Too bad that Laura couldn't remember that today."
"Well…" Jean decided not to agree or disagree. She turned to Carter Stewart. "Are you heading back to New York, Carter?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm not. I'm checking out of the Glen-Ridge and into the Hudson Valley Hotel across town. Pierce Ellison is directing my new play. He lives only ten minutes away in Highland Falls. We need to go over the script together, and he suggested we could work quietly at his place if I stayed over a few days. I'm not staying at the Glen-Ridge, though. They haven't spent a nickel on improvements at that place in fifty years."
"I can vouch for that," Amory agreed. "I have too many memories of being a busboy and then a room-service waiter there. I'm heading over to the country club. Some of my people are coming in. We're looking for a corporate headquarters in this area."
"Talk to Jack Emerson," Stewart said sarcastically.
"Anyone but him. My people have lined up some places for me to see."
"Then this may not be good-bye," Jean said. "We may be bumping into one another in town. Whether or not, it's been good to be with you."
She did not see Robby Brent or Jack Emerson, but didn't want to wait any longer. She had agreed to meet Sam Deegan at Alice Sommers' home at two o'clock, and it was nearly that time now.
With a final smile and a murmured good-bye to the classmates she passed on the way out, she walked quickly to the parking lot. As she got into her car, she looked across the school grounds to the cemetery. The unreality of Alison's death hit her again. It seemed so strange to leave her here on this cold, wet day. I used to tell Alison that she should have been born in California, Jean thought as she turned the key in the ignition. She hated the cold. Her idea of heaven was to get out of bed in the morning, open the door, and go for a swim.
That was what Alison was doing the morning she died.
It was the thought that accompanied Jean as she drove to Alice Sommers' home.
29
Carter Stewart had reserved a suite at the new Hudson Valley Hotel near Storm King State Park. Perched on the side of the mountain overlooking the Hudson, with its center building and twin towers, it reminded him of an eagle with outstretched wings.
The eagle, symbol of life and light and power and majesty.
The tentative title for his new play was
The Eagle and the Owl
.
The owl. Symbol of darkness and death. Bird of prey. Pierce Ellison, his director, liked the title. I'm not sure, Stewart thought, as he pulled up at the entrance of the hotel and stepped out of the car. I'm just not sure.
Is it too obvious? Symbols are meant to be noted by the profound thinker, not served on a platter to the Wednesday matinee bridge club. Not that that group rushed to
28
"I guess this is good-bye, Jean. It's been good to see you again." Mark Fleischman was holding his card in his hand. "I'll give you mine if you'll give me yours," he said, smiling.
"Of course." Jean dug into her bag and pulled a card out of her wallet. "I'm glad you were able to make the brunch after all."
"I am, too. When do you leave?"
"I'm staying at the hotel for a few days more. A little research project." Jean tried to sound casual.
"I tape some shows in Boston tomorrow. Otherwise I'd stay and ask you to join me for a quiet dinner tonight." He hesitated, then bent down and kissed her cheek. "Again, as people say, it's been good
to
see you."
"Goodbye, Mark." Jean caught herself before adding, "Give me a call if you plan to be in Washington." For an instant their hands lingered together, then he was gone.
Carter Stewart and Gordon Amory were standing together, saying final good-byes to the dispersing classmates. Jean walked over to them. Before she could speak, Gordon asked, "Have you heard from Laura?"
"Not yet."
"Laura's unreliable. That's another reason her career has tanked.
She has a history of keeping people waiting, but Alison had been moving heaven and earth to get her a job. Too bad that Laura couldn't remember that today."
"Well…" Jean decided not to agree or disagree. She turned to Carter Stewart. "Are you heading back to New York, Carter?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm not. I'm checking out of the Glen-Ridge and into the Hudson Valley Hotel across town. Pierce Ellison is directing my new play. He lives only ten minutes away in Highland Falls. We need to go over the script together, and he suggested we could work quietly at his place if I stayed over a few days. I'm not staying at the Glen-Ridge, though. They haven't spent a nickel on improvements at that place in fifty years."
"I can vouch for that," Amory agreed. "I have too many memories of being a busboy and then a room-service waiter there. I'm heading over to the country club. Some of my people are coming in. We're looking for a corporate headquarters in this area."
"Talk to Jack Emerson," Stewart said sarcastically.
"Anyone but him. My people have lined up some places for me to see."
"Then this may not be good-bye," Jean said. "We may be bumping into one another in town. Whether or not, it's been good to be with you."
She did not see Robby Brent or Jack Emerson, but didn't want to wait any longer. She had agreed to meet Sam Deegan at Alice Sommers' home at two o'clock, and it was nearly that time now.
With a final smile and a murmured good-bye to the classmates she passed on the way out, she walked quickly to the parking lot. As she got into her car, she looked across the school grounds to the cemetery. The unreality of Alison's death hit her again. It seemed so strange to leave her here on this cold, wet day. I used to tell Alison that she should have been born in California, Jean thought as she turned the key in the ignition. She hated the cold. Her idea of heaven was to get out of bed in the morning, open the door, and go for a swim.
That was what Alison was doing the morning she died.
It was the thought that accompanied Jean as she drove to Alice Sommers' home.
29
Carter Stewart had reserved a suite at the new Hudson Valley Hotel near Storm King State Park. Perched on the side of the mountain overlooking the Hudson, with its center building and twin towers, it reminded him of an eagle with outstretched wings.
The eagle, symbol of life and light and power and majesty.
The tentative title for his new play was
The Eagle and the Owl
.
The owl. Symbol of darkness and death. Bird of prey. Pierce Ellison, his director, liked the title. I'm not sure, Stewart thought, as he pulled up at the entrance of the hotel and stepped out of the car. I'm just not sure.
Is it too obvious? Symbols are meant to be noted by the profound thinker, not served on a platter to the Wednesday matinee bridge club. Not that that group rushed to
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