reminds him of nothing so much as home where the first yellow-greens of spring will also be veiling trees and brightening lawns—home, where lack of newness and perfection are treasured qualities.
He sighs and turns his back on the windows. He can’t be homesick already. Gone less than a week and now that the notion’s planted, home is all he can think about.
A rapid calculation and resetting of his watch to NY time establishes that if he rings home now they’ll just be sitting down to tea, they’ll all be in one place.
He makes the call with every intention of turning the talk to the leafing-out of specimen trees, the blooming of countless shrubberies, the progress of ongoing restorations and conversions, but all they want to talk about is his surprise appearance at the awards show that they’ve preserved on tape. Even little Simon gets in on the act. When brought to the phone the lad babbles on and on about seeing Dad on telly—“Dad” and “telly” being the only intelligible words. When it’s Anthony’s turn to speak, he’s near-unintelligible in his excitement. Colin’s mother, gone dithery over the win, may or may not be paying attention when told his whereabouts and given the number where he can be reached.
After ringing off he showers, dresses in his last-remaining clean clothes and falls asleep on an uncluttered couch, the dose of Polks Extra Strength that was supposed to get him over the hump forgotten about.
Colin is slow coming awake when a phone call announces Nate’s arrival with the luggage. According to his reset watch he slept close to three hours. Not long enough. He’s still in the bath, splashing cold water on his face when the door chime rings; he takes his time answering it.
After a bellman deposits the bags in the bedroom and is dismissed, Nate confounds expectations by saying nothing whatsoever about the change of venue. He says nothing about the under-the-radar trip to L.A. when he examines the Icon statuette that’s found temporary pride of place on the baby grand piano. No comment about Bemus’s conspicuous absence, either. Maddening this is, this waiting for the other shoe.
“Well?” Colin says when it appears Nate’s ready to sit down, maybe enjoy a beer.
“Well what? You looking for congratulations? That it? For this?” Nate remains on his feet, pings the Icon with a snap of middle finger and thumb. “I hope you realize you should’ve left this behind to have personalized.”
“That the best you can summon?” Colin assumes an adversarial stance.
“Congratulations are in order, no question about that. And no real surprises there because I’d never have allowed use of ‘Revenant’ in the soundtrack of that movie if I’d thought it wouldn’t win best song.”
“You just didn’t count on me showin’ up to collect the prize and set matters straight.”
“I’ll give you that, but I should’ve seen it coming, I should’ve realized you wouldn’t sit still for the insult any more than you’d accept staying at my place when you’re in rebellious mode.”
“You did recognize it was an insult, then, this bein’ passed over to perform my own bloody tune?”
“Yeah, I saw the potential for insult—right from the start—and I thought you could live with it once you’d claimed the prize—which was always a given.”
Nate shows no signs of wanting to stay long. If Colin’s in rebellious mode, Nate’s in wary mode—extreme wary mode—even though there are no metaphorical elephants in the room now that the two touchiest subjects have been addressed.
“Just so you know, David Sebastian’s office is sending over some reading material. There’ll be the fine points of the agreement we’re seeking from the record label later in the week, the agenda for tomorrow, and profiles of the applicants I’ve assembled for the new team. Reminding me—David’s taken on a new associate who’s slated to work with us throughout the contract negotiations. Her
Melissa Foster
David Guenther
Tara Brown
Anna Ramsay
Amber Dermont
Paul Theroux
Ethan Mordden
John Temple
Katherine Wilson
Ginjer Buchanan