Chapter 26

Saturda.y. Day eight.

He took Jael back home at two o'clock. Then, restless and awake, a little moody from the sex, he took I-394 west to the 494694 belt-line, decided at the last minute to go north, and drove the 694 north, then east across the north side of the Metro area, then south again, and back into St. Paul on I-94. The trip took most of an hour, and he used the time to think about Jael, and Weather, and Catrin.

He felt a strong tie to Weather; he couldn't help it. If she called in the morning and said, "To hell with it, let's get married next week," he'd probably say yes. On the other hand, she was making some preliminary moves toward what might be a reconciliation, and he was sleepingwell, not sleepingwith Jael. He was risking the Weather tie with a woman who wouldn't be around long. He knew Jael would be moving on, and Jael knew he knew it; and when he wasn't looking at her, he hardly thought about her, at least on a conscious level.

But his car kept steering itself to her doorstep, and he kept winding up in a bed or on a couch or on the floor with her. And heliked it. Most of that was Jael herself; She was not self-conscious about sex. and not particularly concerned that Lucas enjoy himself. She was getting her own, and letting Lucas take care of himself, which he did. And he likedthat. This wasserious casual sex.

So now he was going to lunch with Weather; the lunch had the feel of a crisis meeting. If nothing happened tomorrow, it was likely nothing would happen at all. Amoment was occurring. He could pick it up or let it go, and he really wanted to pick it up, but maybe if he could just get another week of rolling around with Jael Maybe two weeks?

He thought of the legendary quote from St. Augustine that so beguiled his high school classmates who were headed for a seminary: "Please, Lord, make me pure but not yet."

Then there was Catrin, a problem that might be more serious than Jael. She pulled on him. And he couldn't help thinking that if it didn't work with Weather, it might yet work with Catrin. He was curious about her; liked her a lot twenty years before, might have gotten serious about her twenty years ago. And, as he thought about it, he wondered if one reason that he'd never married was the relationship he'd had with her so long ago: She had somehow immunized him against marriage. Thatthat had been a moment, and on that moment, he'd passed.

He pushed the Porsche down the ramp onto I-94, let it wind, kicked it out of the chute and past a Firebird like the Pontiac wasparked, and decided that his brain was getting tired of italics. Had to make a decision.

But if he could just get another week or two out of Jael, could he be happy? Did he even want to be?

"Fuck it," he said aloud. But he didn't mean it. He was hanging a little over 125 on a nearly empty interstate when he passed Snelling Avenue. Thirty seconds later, he flashed past a highway patrolman going the other way, on the other side of the highway. He saw the flashers come up and grinned, took the Porsche up the ramp at Cretin-Vandalia, and turned left toward home. The guy had no chance.

At ten o'clock the next morning, a cop called to say that Olson was moving. "We don't know what he's doing. He got out on the interstate and he's done a couple of laps around the St. Paul side. He stopped once at White Bear Avenue to get gas."

"How close has he gotten to Highland Park?"

"He took 35E from 94 to 494, so he went right past Spooner's exit at Randolph or at Seventh. If he'd gotten off at either one, we would have been screaming our heads offbut he's just driving."

"Keep calling me," Lucas said.

Weather called while he was in the shower. "I've got a problem," she said.

"No lunch?" he asked, dripping water on the hallway floor.

She could hear the disappointment. "I'm sorry, but this thing just came up and I've got to deal with it."

"Doesn't sound medical," Lucas said.

"Its not. Lucas, I'm being damnit, we need to sit down and talk this out. I have not had a sexual relationship since we split up."

"Why face a disappointment any sooner"

"Will you shut up? Will you just shut the fuck up for a minute?" she said.

"All right," he said.

"I have not had a sexual relationship, but there was this doctor"

"The Frenchman?"

"You know about this?" she asked.

"I know you were going out with some Frenchman."

"Not going out with. I went out with him three times. Or four times. Or maybe, I don't know, five or six times. We never really stopped or anything. I was busy or he was busy and it sort of drifted, and then he had to go back to Paris for a while."

"He came back."

"Yeah. He called last night and he wanted to have lunch today," she said. "He was pretty insistent, even when I said I was pretty busy I think I've got to go talk to him."

"And?"

"I'm ultimately not interested in Frenchmen," she said.

"Well, Jesus, Weather, why don't you just tell him to blow it out his froggy ass?"

"I don't think that would exactly be a diplomatic way to handle it"

"You aren't the fuckin' State Department." He let himself get a little angry about it.

" and I've got to work with him. He's an important guy around here."

They talked for another minute or two, and he let himself get a little angrierand at the bottom of it, was satisfied that she was impressed by the anger. Then he went back to the shower, finished cleaning up, and got dressed. All right. He picked up the phone and dialed Jael.

She answered on the third ring, and he said, "Your problem is, you're too Victorian."

"That's my problem, all right," she said lazily. "Hang on" He could hear her yell, "It's okay, it's for me," and then she was back.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"I'm barely awake. It's not even ten-thirty," she said.

"I'll come get you if you want."

"Can't. I've got a half-dozen people coming at noon. We're working out a joint show, and we've got way too many people. We're trying to figure out how to screw some of them. You're welcome to come over, but you wouldn't like the people, and I don't want any of them thrown out any windows."

"Goddamnit. I can't find anyone to talk to this morning," he said.

"And tonight, my dad's getting in. We're all going over to the airport to pick him up. So"

"No dinner. No midnight snack."

"You ever tried phone sex?" she asked.

"Tried once, but it doesn't work. I feel like a silly jerk-off."

"That's sort of inevitable," she said.

"On the other hand, I'm good at giving it. I wouldn't want to use the wordbrilliant, but then, I'm a modest kind of guy."

"Really? That's interesting," she said. "I mean, how would you start it?"

"Are you still in bed?"

"Yeah."

"What are you wearing?" he asked.

"A flannel nightshirt and underpants and socks," she said.

"Socks? Jesus. That makes it a little harder," Lucas said.

"Come on, Davenport."

"All right. You know that fake Indian dreamcatcher you've got hanging over your sink?"

"Yeah?"

"Go get it," he said.

"Go get it? What for?"

"Listen, are you going to do this, or not?"

"Well I just wanted to know"

"You're gonna need that hawk feather," he said.

After a moment, she said, "Hang on."

"Wait a minute! You still there?"

She came back. "Yes?"

"Didn't I see one of those Lady Remington leg shavers in the bathroom?"

"Yes?"

"Bring that too," Lucas said.

"I'll tell you right now, I'm not shaving anything," she said.

"You don't use those things toshave," Lucas said. "You use them toshave? You naive little waif, you."

"I'll be right back," she said.