Burt and Bobbie, like almost everyone else, had been more than kind. Georgianne stayed with them for five days, taking care of her personal business but mostly just talking, joking, and reminiscing over drinks. It was pleasant enough, and in some ways easier than being with relatives. She, however, grew increasingly aware of a difference. She was an odd person now, a detached wheel rolling about aimlessly.
Bobbie wanted her to buy a condo in the area, perhaps get her job back at the nursery school or take some courses at Western Connecticut State University in Danbury. Mrs. Slaton had suggested something like that in Tampa, Jack in Chicago. The options were always about the same, only the people and places varied. There was something wrong about it. Georgianne didn't know what, but she didn't like it. Freedom had a way of seeming to narrow down to practically nothing at all. It was true that she had more friends and acquaintances in the Danbury area than anywhere else, but after a few days at the Maddoxes, she'd begun to feel restless again. She didn't know if it was Foxrock, all the painful memories and the new feeling that she didn't, couldn't, belong there any more, or if it was some psychological compulsion to keep moving, but in either case she knew she had to leave.
"But why?" Bobbie asked, turning on the front burner to boil more water for the next round.
"I don't know," Georgianne said. "I've just seen my mother and my brothers, and their families, but I feel I have to go see them again. And there are other people and places I have to go. Friends I haven't seen in a while. I have to stay in touch, I have to see them."
"Whatever happened to that friend of yours?" Bobbie asked. "Oh ... I can't remember his name now."
"Which one?"
"The one from California. Good-looking man. He came here with you one night last fall."
"Oh ... Jeff Lisker."
"He's in computers or something like that."
"Yes, that's Jeff."
"Have you heard from him recently?"
"No, not in quite a while."
"He seemed nice."
"Yeah, Jeffs ... nice."
"I thought he was showing signs of interest in you," Bobbie persisted. "I mean, as more than just a friend."
"Maybe he was."
"Didn't he call you every week for a while there?"
"Yes, for a while. 'Twice a week."
"Aha. But nothing came of it?"
"No," Georgianne said, managing a slight smile. "He wanted to come and see me again, but I ... discouraged him, I guess. At the time, I just couldn't handle anything like that." The smile was gone. "Now, I don't think I'll ever be able to again."
"Now don't say that, Georgie."
"I mean it."
"Listen, that's what you think now," Bobbie said gently. "But sooner or later you're going to begin to feel you need someone. There's nothing wrong with that. It's perfectly natural. Your life is far from over, honey, but you just have to be careful. When the time comes, don't overreact. That's all. It's like after a divorce-so many people fall in love on the rebound, and it turns out to be a huge mistake. You know?"
"Yes, I know what you're saying." Georgianne didn't like comparing the violent and unnatural deaths of her husband and daughter with something as banal as divorce, but she knew Bobbie meant well. She gave a short pathetic laugh. "It's all so unreal, though. I'm not even ready to take on a one-room apartment, let alone another person."
Aunt Kitty and Uncle Roy gave Jeff the excuse he thought he needed to get in touch with Georgianne again. He could, of course, have picked up the tele phone and called her anytime, just to say hello and chat, but he had always resisted the temptation to do that. He had to let enough time go by, he kept telling himself; he had to wait. And when he did eventually make contact with Georgianne again, he would have to have a reason, something specific to hang it on. He hadn't spoken to her in months, and somehow that meant it would be wrong to call offhandedly, out of the blue.
He had talked with his aunt and uncle twice since he'd been east for his father's funeral. Now, in October, they arrived in Los Angeles for a few days of whirlwind sightseeing. They'd decided to spend some of the money from the sale of his father's house, and they'd joined the Ramblin' Rovers, a club that organized tours for groups of retired people. Aunt Kitty and Uncle Roy had already "done" Canada from Nova Scotia to Toronto, and had come to inspect fabled California.
Their days were well planned, with excursions to Hollywood, Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm, the Cu- camonga winery and the Getty Museum. That made it easy for Jeff, who had only to give them a tour of Lisker-Benedictus, show them his condo, and take them out to dinner a couple of evenings.
"Did you go to school with any of the Slaton kids?" Aunt Kitty asked at one point when they were filling Jeff in on odd bits of Brass Valley news.
"Sure. I knew the Slatons," Jeff replied. It would never have occurred to him to mention Georgianne to his aunt and uncle, and he was a bit surprised by the question. "Georgianne was in my class. We were good friends. Why?"
"Georgianne," Uncle Roy said, nodding. "That's the one."
They told him the whole story of Bonnie's death, which was still regarded as a suicide, and of Sean's murder the year before. The Corcoran double tragedy had been widely reported and gossiped about in Millville, since Georgianne had been a local girl. Jeff acted astonished and saddened, but he learned nothing new.
He could call Georgianne and honestly explain that he had just heard about Bonnie. It was an excuse, a reason, a hook.
They would have to get the subject of Bonnie's death out of the way sooner or later. Enough time had passed. He would have to find out where she was, and what she was doing now.
A call to the Corcoran home revealed that the phone number had been reassigned. So the house was sold. Directory assistance advised him that there was no new listing for Georgianne Corcoran (or Slaton) in either Foxrock or Danbury. Therefore, she was out of there. So far, so good.
Next he called Doris Slaton in Florida. She remembered him, of course, but wasn't very helpful. She hadn't heard from Georgianne in a week or more. At that time her daughter had been visiting friends in Connecticut, and might still be there. Or she could be somewhere else by now, with her brother in Chicago, perhaps. In any event, Mrs. Slaton did expect to hear from her soon and would tell her that Jeff had called. Did he want Georgianne to call him? Yes, please, Jeff told her. Neither of them referred to Sean or Bonnie.
It would have to do, he decided. He didn't want to take it any further by calling the Maddoxes or Georgianne's brother in Chicago. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked the new situation. He had no doubt that Mrs. Slaton would keep her word and tell Georgianne about his call. It wasn't just an obligation, but something she would want to do. She knew Jeff from the old days and surely she'd want her daughter to talk with an old friend. Especially at a time like this. And Georgianne would have to return his call. That was it. Georgianne was incapable of being so rude as to ignore his call. All Jeff had to do was sit back and wait a little longer, a week, two at most. Georgianne would get in touch with him. And about time, too. Yes, he had done the right thing. It was turning out better than he had hoped.
A month later, he wasn't so sure. Thanksgiving was only a few days away. Georgianne had to be in Tampa again, to spend the holiday with her mother and brother. Where else could she be? Chicago, with the other brother? Possible, Jeff thought, but unlikely. The weather in Chicago would remind her too much of Connecticut, and Thanksgiving would be hard enough to take without that.
He hadn't heard a word from her. No call, no message, not even a click on the answering machine connected to his home phone. It didn't seem possible. Jeff didn't like it. It was worse than rude, it was a dismissal of their friendship, of ... everything.