(4) Rain Stops Play
Andrew peered out at the driving rain. A few steps from his bed to the window had convinced him. Rain would stop play. Not that he had much planned for the daylight hours but this type of downpour had a way of dramatizing your every move and wearing you thin by lunchtime. All he really had to do was drive Jordan to the GO station.
Holy crow, who could that be at this hour? It was Vee and it was 7.02. She apologised for the early hour but had to tell him. She’d just had the most startling dream about Lara. Andrew sympathised. He’d been having them too, although not last night for some reason. They shared field notes, listening carefully to each other’s experience, not interrupting to upstage, like they often did when sparring. Had they declared a truce, like spatting lovers often do, or was this a continuation of the old truce, signed into effect when Vee reversed into her garage, resigning from active duty over the winter? Was it maybe the winter of their discontent?
No, Andrew knew he was just being clever to avoid being emotional. An old guy trick. Sure he could justify it by identifying Vee’s chick strategies, but that too was some kind of cop-out, yet another subterfuge to steal into your own heart and silence it. Vee was talking about how Lara still felt close, too close maybe. She could feel her at home, like she was in the next room, reading or tidying up. And driving into the city yesterday she could swear she was right there in the passenger seat beside her.
I mean how crazy is that? Am I going nuts Andrew? He was tempted to make a crack about hot flashes but didn’t have time as she quickly continued, I mean, I’m not anywhere near the hot flashes stage. I’m more at the maybe I should get a life stage. He was sorely tempted to agree, but again was hobbled by his need to draw a breath. And here I am wittering away about what the hell I’m going do and Lara’s already finished, folded her towel and gone home. He managed to sneak in a yeah before At least you’ve carved yourself out a life Andrew, you’re doing things. He wanted to say What things? but Oh I know you feel like some playboy spinning his golden wheels but you have a vision, some kind of vision of where you’re going, which is great, beat him to it. He did manage to blurt Why don’t you join me in this vision quest thingee then? before But what am I doing but Dennis’s bidding? Oh he’s a lovely man and treats me like a princess but,…what was that you said? H repeated his offer, at least what he remembered of it. Really? And I thought you just wanted to fuck me silly. He
laughed and agreed. But that’s not all.
Later, driving Jordan through the slightly less downpourish and slightly
moredrizzly rain, he gave a brief recount of the conversation. Jordan, who
seemed to be staring at the puddles as they splashed through them, muttered
She’s coming your way and left it at that. At the station he thanked Andrew for
his hospitality, said he’d be in touch, jumped out and hurried through the drizzle
to the glass doors.
Andrew looked after him, felt that inner smile he often felt at Jordan’s
enigmatic personality. Sometimes he wanted to penetrate and find for himself
the building blocks of the mystique, and then others he was happy to rummage
