julian took the train up to Houston, staying just long enough to cover Amelia’s particle seminar—the students weren’t wild about having a young postdoc unexpectedly substitute for Dr. Blaze—and then caught a midnight train back to Guadalajara.
As it turned out, Amelia was released the next day, traveling by ambulance to a care facility on campus. The clinic didn’t want a patient who was just resting under observation to take up a valuable bed on Friday; most of their high-ticket customers checked in that day.
Julian was allowed to ride with her, which was mostly a matter of watching her sleep. When the sedative wore off, about an hour from Houston, they talked primarily about work; Julian managed to avoid lying to her about what might happen if they jacked in her almost-connected state. He knew she would read all about it soon enough and then they’d have to deal with their hopes and disappointments. He didn’t want her to build up some transcendental scenario based on that one beautiful instant. The best that could happen would be a lot less than that, and there would probably be no effect at all.
The care center was shiny on the outside and shabby on the inside. Amelia got the only bed left in a four-bed “suite,” inhabited by women twice her age, long-term or permanent residents. Julian helped her settle in, and when it became obvious that he wasn’t just working for her, two of the old ladies were ostentatiously horrified at the difference in color and age. The third was blind.
Well, they were out in the open now. That was one good thing that had come from the mess, for their personal lives if not their professional ones.
Amelia hadn’t read the Chandler book, and was delighted. It seemed unlikely that she would spend much time in conversation.
Julian was headed for conversation that night, of course, Friday. He decided to show up at the club at least an hour late, so Marty could tell the others about the operations and reveal the sordid truth about him and Amelia. If indeed it was actually secret to anybody there. Straitlaced Hayes knew and had never given a hint.
There was plenty to occupy him before the Saturday Night Special, since he hadn’t even checked his mail after reading the note under his door, when he returned from Portobello. An assistant to Hayes had written up a summary of the runs he and Amelia had missed; that would take a few hours’ study. Then there were notes of concern, mostly from people he would see that night. It was the sort of news that traveled fast.
Just to make life interesting, there was a note from his father saying he’d like to drop by on his way home from Hawaii, so Julian could get to know “Suze,” his new wife, better. Unsurprisingly, there was also a phone message from Julian’s mother, wondering where he was, and would he mind if she came down to escape the last of the bad weather? Sure, Mom, you and Suze will get along just fine; think of how much you have in common.
In this case, the easiest course was the truth. He punched up his mother and said she could come down if she wanted, but that his father and Suze were going to be here at the same time. After she calmed down from that, he gave her a quick summary of the past four days’ excitement.
Her image on the phone took on an odd appearance as he talked. She’d grown up with sound-only, and had never mastered the neutral expression that most people automatically assumed.
“So you’re pretty serious about this old woman.”
“Old white woman, Momma.” Julian laughed at her indignation. “And I’ve been telling you for a year and a half how serious we were.”
“White, purple, green; doesn’t make any difference to me. Son, she’s only ten years younger than I am.”
“Twelve.”
“Oh, thank God, twelve! Don’t you see how foolish you look now to the people around you?”
“I’m just glad it’s not a secret anymore. And if we look foolish to some people, well, that’s their problem, not ours.”
She looked away from the screen. “It’s me that’s the fool, and a hypocrite, too. Mother’s got to worry.”
“If you’d come down once and meet her, you’d stop worrying.”
“I should. Okay. You call me when your father and his playmate have gone on up to Akron—”
“Columbus, Mom.”
“Wherever. You call me and we’ll work out a time.”