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They all knew it, but perhaps Johnny most of all. So, although the three of them didnt talk about the future, they felt its shadowy presence constantly, and somehow that made their time together sweeter and more intense. On the rare night when they werent working on a story, Johnny, Tully, and Kate met at Goldies to play pool and drink beer. By the end of their second year together, they knew all there was to know about each other; at least, all that each was willing to share.
Except the stuff that truly mattered. Kate often thought it ironic that three people who searched through the rubble of life to find pebbles of truth could be so stubbornly blind about their own lives.
Tully had no idea that Johnny wanted her, and he was completely unaware that Kate wanted him.
So their weird, silent triangle went on, day after day, night after night. Tully always asked Kate why she didnt date. She longed to come clean, tell Tully the truth, but every time she started to confess, she backed out. How could she tell the truth about Johnny, after the crap shed given Tully about Chad? Your boss, after all, was worse than your professor.
And besides, what did Tully know about unrequited love? Her friend would just start pushing Kate to ask Johnny out. What would Kate say then? I cant. Hes in love with you. Deeper down, in a dark place she rarely acknowledged, there was another fear, one she only recognized in her dreams and nightmares. In the cold light of day, she didnt believe it, but at night, alone, she worried that if Tully found out about Kates love, it might actually make Johnny more attractive to Tully. That was the thing about her best friend; it wasnt that she wanted what she couldnt have. It was that she wanted everything, and sooner or later, Tully got what she wanted. Kate couldnt risk it. Not having Johnny she could live with. Losing him to Tully would be unbearable.
So Kate kept her head down, her hands busy, and her dreams of love hidden away. She smiled easily when Mom or Dad or Tully teased her about her social life, joked that her standards were higher than some people she could name, an answer which was always good for a laugh.
She tried not to be alone with Johnny too much, either, just to stay on the safe side. Although she no longer fumbled things or got tongue-tied around him, she always sensed that he was quite perceptive, and that, given too many opportunities, he might sense that which she worked so hard to hide.
Her plan went pretty well, all things considered, until a cold November day in 1984 when Johnny called her into his office.
They were alone again, that day. Tully and Mutt were tracking down a Sasquatch sighting in the Olympic rain forest.
Kate smoothed her angora sweater and schooled her face into an impersonal smile as she went into his office and found him standing at the dirty window. "What is it, Johnny?"
He looked terrible. Haggard. "Remember when I told you about El Salvador?"
"Sure. "
"Well, I still have friends down there. One of them, Father Ramón, is missing. His sister thinks theyve taken him somewhere for torture, or that theyve killed him. She wants me to come down and see if I can help. "
"But its dangerous—"
"Danger is my middle name. " He smiled, but it was like a reflection on water, distorted and unreal.
"This isnt something to joke about. You could be killed. Or disappear like that journalist in Chile during the coup. He was never seen again. "
"Believe me," he said, "Im not joking. Ive been there, remember? I know what its like to be blindfolded and shot at. " He turned his head. His eyes took on a vague, unfocused look, and she wondered what he was remembering. "I cant turn my back on the people who protected me down there. Could you turn away from Tully if she begged you for help?"
"I would help her, as you well know. Although I dont expect to see her in a war zone, unless you count the anniversary sale at Nordstrom. "
"I knew you were my girl. So youll keep this place running while Im gone?"
"Me?"
"Like I said once, youre a responsible girl. "
She couldnt help herself; she moved toward him, looked up. He was leaving, could be hurt down there, or worse. "Woman," she said.
He stared down at her, unsmiling. She felt the mere inches between them. It would take nothing, barely a movement to touch.
"Woman," he said.
Then he left her there, standing alone, surrounded by word ghosts; things she could have said.
When Johnny was gone, Kate learned how elastic time was, how it could stretch out until minutes felt like hours. All it would take was a phone call, though, an official saying he was sorry, to make it snap like a rubber band. Every time the phone rang, she tensed. By the end of the first day, she had a pounding headache.
She learned another lesson that first week, too. Life went on. The head honchos in Tacoma still called, and a producer was assigned to oversee the assignments the team was given, but in truth, the way it worked out, Kate began to take over some of the producing responsibilities. Mutt and Tully trusted her, and she knew how to make things work on the shoestring budget theyd been given. All that longing of hers had paid off; it seemed shed watched Johnny closely enough that she knew how to do his job. She was a seamstress to his couturier, of course, but still, she was competent. By Thursday of the first week, the out-of-town producer had thrown up his hands, said he had better things to do than follow crazy people around all day, and returned to Tacoma.
On Friday, Kate produced her first segment. It was soft and unimportant—an update on former childrens TV star Brakeman Bill—but still it was hers, and it hit the air.
What an adrenaline rush it had been to see her work on-screen, even if it was Tullys face and voice that everyone remembered. Shed called her parents and they drove down to watch the broadcast with Kate and Tully. Afterward, theyd toasted to "the dream" and agreed that it was that much closer to coming true.
"I always thought Katie and I would be on air together, an anchoring team, but I guess I was wrong," Tully had said. "Shell be the producer of my show someday instead. And when Barbara Walters interviews me, Ill say I couldnt have done it without her. "
Kate had toasted when it was expected of her, smiling purposely and reliving every moment through Tullys chatter. Shed been proud of herself, truly she had, and shed loved doing the piece and celebrating with her parents. It had been especially poignant when Mom took her aside and said, "Im proud of you, Katie. Youre on your way now. Arent you glad you didnt give up?"
But all the while, a part of her was watching the clock, thinking how slowly time was moving.
"You look terrible," Tully said the next day, dropping a stack of tapes on Kates desk.
The clattering sound startled Kate. She realized shed been staring at the clock again. "Yeah, well, your singing sucks. "
Tully laughed at that. "Everyone has something they cant do. " She put her palms on Kates desk and leaned forward. "Chad and I are going to the Backstage tonight. Junior Cadillac is playing. You want to come?"
"Not tonight. "
Tully eyed her. "What in the hell is wrong with you? Youve been moping around for more than a week. I know youre not sleeping—I hear you up walking around in the middle of the night—and you wont go anywhere. Its like living with the Elephant Man. "
Kate couldnt help glancing at Johnnys door and then up at her friend. Longing welled up inside her, sharp and strong; if only she could tell Tully the truth: that shed accidentally fallen in love with Johnny and now she was worried about him. It would take such a load off of her. In ten years, this was the first thing shed ever hidden from Tully and it physically hurt to conceal it.
But her feelings for Johnny were so fragile; she knew that Tropical Storm Tully would rain all over them, ruin them.
"Im just tired," she said. "This producing is hard work. Thats all. "
"But you love it, dont you?"
"Sure. Its great. Now go on, meet Chad. Ill close up. " After Tully left, Kate lingered in the dark, quiet office. The strange thing was, she
liked being here; she felt close to him.
"Youre an idiot," she said aloud. Truthfully, she said it to herself at least twice a day lately. She was acting like—felt like—a left-behind lover, but it was all in her imagination. At least she wasnt so far gone that shed forgotten that.
She went home by herself. The bus dropped her off at the corner of Pike and Pine. Amid the colorful crowd of tourists and weirdos and hippies, she picked up some food for dinner. Back in her apartment, she curled up on the couch, ate her dinner out of white cardboard containers, and watched the nightly news. Afterward, she made some notes on story ideas, called her mom, then turned the channel to NBC for Dynasty and St. Elsewhere.
Halfway through the medical drama, the doorbell rang.
Frowning, she went to the door. "Who is it?"
"Johnny Ryan. "
The jolt Kate felt almost knocked her off her feet. Relief. Joy. Fear. She experienced all three emotions in a heartbeat of time.
She glanced in the mirror hanging on the wall beside her and gasped. She looked like a fashion magazine "before" photo—limp hair, no makeup, eyebrows untrimmed.
He pounded on the door again.
She opened it.
He stood there, leaning heavily against the doorframe, wearing dirty Levis and a torn BORN IN THE USA tour T-shirt. His hair was long and uncombed, and though he was tanned, his face looked worn, older. She could smell alcohol, too.
"Hey," he said, opening his fingers from along the doorframe in greeting. At the movement he lost his balance and almost fell.
Kate moved toward him. Holding him up, she guided him into the apartment, kicked the door shut, and led him to the sofa, where he half stumbled to a sit.
"Ive been sitting over in the Athenian," he said, "trying to get up the nerve t come over here. " He glanced blearily around the place. "Wheres Tully?"
"Shes not here," Kate said, feeling a clutch in her heart.
"Oh. "
She sat down beside him. "How did it go in El Salvador?"
When he turned to her, the look in his eyes was so devastating that she reached out, put her arm around him, and drew him close.
"He was dead," he said after a long silence. "Before I even got there, he was dead. But I had to find him . . . " He pulled a flask out of his back pocket and took a long drink. "Y want some?"
She took a sip, felt it burn all the way down her throat and settle like a hot coal in the pit of her stomach.
"Its damned heartbreaking whas going on. And not enough is getting on air. No one cares. "
"You could go on assignment," she said, even though she hated the idea.
"I wish I could . . . " His voice faded away, then turned sharp. "Old news. " He took another drink.
"Maybe you should slow down a little. " She tried to take the flask from him. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. He touched her face with his other hand, caressing her cheek as if he were blind and trying to come up with an image of what she looked like.
"Youre beautiful," he whispered.
"Youre drunk. "
"Youre still beautiful. " He slid one hand up her arm and the other down her throat until he was holding her in his arms. She knew he was going to kiss her, felt the knowledge in every nerve ending in her body, just as she knew she should stop him.