_Tuesday, April 7
8:13 P.M._
What a day! When Ally finally settled onto her couch, after giving
Knickers a long walk, she was exhausted. She leaned back and kicked off
her shoes. There had been a few moments of tightness in her chest--maybe
it was psychological, anxiety-induced--but that was gone now. She
thought about calling New Jersey to ask how Nina was doing, but she
doubted they would tell her anything.
She'd spent the latter part of the afternoon getting yet another heart
exam. After driving to northern New Jersey and back, she'd had a formal
(and exhausting) stress test for her heart at the New York University
Faculty Practice. God, she was sick of examining rooms and those blue
paper shifts you put on backwards, as though it was okay for doctors
and nurses to see your bare ass. Then she put on shorts and sneakers
and an Israeli physician stuck wired suction cups all over her chest
and put her on a treadmill for seventeen minutes, boosting her pulse to
over 150, which was as high as he dared to go. Then he called Van de
Vliet, faxed him the charts, and they reviewed the squiggly lines for
another ten minutes. Finally she had a high-speed CT scan, whose
results were then sent directly to Karl Van de Vliet's lab computer.
The bottom line was, the damaged valve in her aortic ventricle was
deteriorating even more rapidly than her regular physician, Dr.
Ekelman, had thought, but her heart was still strong enough for the
procedure.
She wondered if she had gone this far because she was letting hope
outweigh a sober evaluation of the risks. Was this the sign of complete
desperation? Whatever she decided, tomorrow was the day, D day,
decision day.
She thought again about her mom, who had been bubbling with hope when
she looked in on her. Nina hadn't even been formally checked in, but
already she seemed transformed. It was enough for her just to entertain
the possibility that her mind could be renewed. That in itself was
sufficient to convince Ally to sign the consent agreement for Van de
Vliet to go forward with her procedure. He even offered to provide a
car service to take Maria home to the Bronx after Nina was settled and
resting.
In her own case, the special injections for her heart, she was far less
sure what she thought. The part that bothered her most was having to
give herself entirely over to a person she scarcely knew. It was the
kind of ultimate surrender that she abhorred.
While Knickers rummaged behind the couch for the remnants of her
rawhide chew toy, Ally momentarily considered calling Grant. She
couldn't think of a reason why except that he was the only coherent
immediate family she had left and this felt like a moment for pulling
together. God, she missed Steve. Sometimes she felt so alone.
Then she considered calling Stone Aimes, but she decided that would
seem pushy. The truth was, she'd enjoyed talking to him and she'd been
surprised at how comfortable she'd felt. Looking back over the elapsed
years, she couldn't remember exactly why they split up. There must have
been a good reason, but now she could only recall the good times. A
picnic in Central Park, or the time they took the Staten Island ferry
at night just to see the inspiring downtown skyline.
With those jumbled thoughts cluttering her mind, she finally got around
to remembering she hadn't checked her phone machine. She got up off the
couch and went into the bedroom.
There were three calls and at first she thought she was too exhausted
to check them.
But no, that was irresponsible. She was running a business...
"Hi, Ally, it's me." The voice was Jennifer's. "No emergency, but call
when you get in and let me know how it went, okay?"
Not tonight. There was too much to explain and she was too tired. She
went to the second message.
"Hi, it's me again. I need you to look over the Jameson design, that
Italian-marble bath. They're having trouble getting the ocher. Some
kind of strike at the quarry. What can they substitute? But remember,
it's got to be absurdly overpriced or they'll assume it's crap. If I
don't hear back from you, I'll fax you some stuff in the morning."
Okay, she thought, these rich clients love to show off. I'll get them
what they should have ordered in the first place, knowing them. Stone
from the quarry near Agra, where they got the marble for the Taj Mahal.
That ought to be ostentatious enough. It'll take an extra couple of
months, but that will impress them even more.
As she considered going to the third message, she had a feeling of
misgiving, though in truth there were several people she wouldn't mind
hearing from.
Or maybe the Dorian Institute had called about Nina. Maybe she'd
freaked. This whole thing was happening way too fast. In any case, she
didn't really want to talk to anybody right now. What she really wanted
to do was sit and think, maybe run the whole thing by Stone and get his
take{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}.
She decided to check out the third message.
"Hi, it's your intrepid reporter, just checking in to see how it went
today. It's just after eight, and I'm at home. I may not be able to
afford this place much longer, given all the excitement I've had today,
so call me while I still have an apartment and a phone."
She felt a ripple of excitement and the feeling pleased her. Maybe she
did have someone stable and rational in her corner, someone who
understood the risks and possible rewards of going forward with the
procedure.
She'd put his number in her Palm, which was in her bag, and she went
back to the living room, poured herself a glass of wine, and then
retrieved it.
She heard him pick up on the second ring.
"Hi, it's Ally. Thanks for checking on me. I'm really not in the
greatest shape at the moment."
"Oh yeah? So how'd it go?"
"Well, I met Dr. Miracle. . . ." She paused. "I don't know quite how to
handle you, Stone. Are we having some kind of reunion? The affair
redux. Are we friends all over again? Two days ago, all we had were
memories. Then I start getting phone calls from you. I still don't know
what I'm supposed to think."
"I'll tell you what I think. I think we're playing this by ear. I don't
know what you've been doing for the years that I haven't seen you. I
don't know what you know about me. So this is kind of like a blind date
with a lot of baggage."
"I agree," she said, then hesitated. Her resolve was melting. "I might
as well say this. Is it too late to come down and talk? I thought I was
tough enough to handle this on my own, but I definitely could use
psychological support."
"Give me the address. I could use a little support myself. I got
tlhreatened today, I think, by somebody who would like to crush me like
a bug. And easily could. I'll spare you the ironies, but you and I may
have more in common than you think. My interest in the Gerex
Corporation has just gotten extremely personal."
After she hung up, she felt energized and she decided to give
Jennifer a call after all. In truth, she wanted to tell her about Stone
and to get her take on whether seeing him was a good idea. Aren't these
second-time-around things always doomed?
"Hi, Jen. I'm home and I'm making all kinds of fateful decisions."
"So what happened? Are you going to be a guinea pig for that clinic?"
"Is that what you think it amounts to?" She couldn't tell how serious
Jennifer intended to be. "I'm still debating it Mom loved the place."
"Well, good. Good for her. But you're still not sure about you?"
"I'm leaning . . ." She paused. "Jen, somebody I used to see in
college is on his way down here right now. He's a medical reporter, but
the truth is, I don't know why I asked him."
"I guess if I were your shrink, I'd ask, 'How do you feel about that?'"
"If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't need you to be a one-woman
support group." She bit her lip. "He's doing a book about stem cell
procedures. So in a way it's a lucky break that he appeared exactly
when he did."
"Yeah, Ally, if you ask me, it sounds like it was a lucky break in more
than one way. An old flame reappearing can be a positive sign. It's
high time something happened in your life."
You 're tighter than you know, she thought. I'm ready for this, whether
I admit it to myself or not. But is there going to be any chemistry
when we actually see each other? There used to be a lot.
The embarrassing thing was, her first thought was to wonder if he was
still terrific in bed. She remembered thinking he was very adroit back
then, but back then she didn't have much experience to compare him
with. Mainly, thinking about him now made her painfully aware she was
overdue for some closeness.
_Tuesday, April 7
10:22 PM.
_What's she going to think of me? Stone wondered as he knocked gently
on the door. She'd buzzed him up from the lobby without a word.
More to the point, he thought, what am I going to say if she wants an
opinion about whether she should undergo the procedure or not? So far,
the only evidence I have that the clinical trials are working is
circumstantial, the patients who've been through the sequence and
discharged. So how can I, in good faith, advise her one way or the
other?
But, he then concluded, I'm getting way ahead of myself. She may take
one look at me and decide she was right to dump me the first time.
Nice building, though. Housing for grown-ups, not like the one-bedroom
starter setup I've been reduced to.
He knocked--he always hated the idea of ringing a bell on an apartment
door--and a second later, it opened.
Alexa Hampton and Stone Aimes just stood awkwardly for a moment and
stared, taking each other in. Finally...
"You look... great." They both said it simultaneously, and that served
to make the moment even more awkward.
"Well," he said finally, into the silence, "you do." And he meant it.
There was, however, a lot of strain on her face, in her eyes. The mark
the years had left seemed more psychic than physical.
"You don't look so bad yourself."
"God, it seems like a lifetime ago when we went to our separate
corners," he said after another long, contemplative pause. Then he
stepped in and she closed the door. He didn't try to peck her cheek,
for which she looked relieved. "Tell me how you're doing, really."
"You really want to know? Okay, this afternoon I had a heavy-duty heart
checkup. Nobody wants to put odds on this thing, but my condition is
getting worse." She led him through to the living room.
"Then we should talk," he said looking around. "I love your loft, by
the way. You make me envy you. You should see the makeshift quarters I
live in. I'm sort of waiting for my ship to come in."
"The truth is, Stone, that I no longer know the first thing about you
or your life. And I think I'd like to."
" 'Had we but world enough, and time.'" He smiled "We'll get around to
the catching up, but I don't flatter myself that you asked me down at
this hour to reminisce about our respective pasts."
"You've already got me figured out." She made a face. "I don't know
whether I like that or not. By the way, would you care for something?
You used to like scotch, right?"
"The operative part of that statement is 'used to.' These days I try to
avoid anything harder than beer. I was starting to have an ethanol
dependency problem. I think it's a common occupational hazard for a
reporter."
"I don't keep beer around. It's fattening. How about some diet
cranberry juice?"
"Maybe I'll have that scotch after all." He laughed. "I have a feeling
it might be more suited to the occasion."
"Know what, I think I'll join you." She walked into the kitchen and
started making the drinks. "On the rocks, right?"
"Good memory."
"Stone, I asked you down because I've got to make a big decision." She
was bringing the drinks into the living room. "Tonight. You're the
closest thing I've got to a knowledgeable sounding board. You have some
idea of the risks and rewards here. So do I check into the Dorian
Institute and let them start injecting doctored-up stem cells into me
or not? Turns out that's what Van de Vliet wants to do."
"We're in worse trouble than we thought." He took a scotch. "You've at
least seen the place. I don't have a shred of actual physical evidence
that those clinical trials are producing results. I can make inferences
from what I see on the Web site, but it's nothing you can take to the
bank." He ventured a sip, then looked up. "By the way, did you get a
chance to ask about the patient who got dropped?"
"Oh shit, I forgot." She sighed. "There was so much going on, with Mom
and all the rest, that it completely slipped my--"
"Don't worry about it," he said with a sigh.
Come on, Ally, she thought, this could be really important. You've got
to get focused.
"I'll try to remember tomorrow."
"I do think it's kind of vital. But be careful not to mention my name.
I've ... I've just acquired some problems of my own with the Gerex
Corporation."
"What kind of 'problems'?"
"Let me take a rain check on answering that. Suffice to say, they're
not thrilled about the idea that I'm doing a book in which they're
prominently featured." He paused. "Look, Ally, there's a lot going on
here. Including that patient who was dropped for some reason that
nobody wants to disclose. But if you do decide to do it you couldn't
have a better physician. Karl Van de Vliet is quite possibly the
world's leading researcher in stem cell technology. On the other hand,
this is the first time there've been actual human trials. If anybody
tells you there's no risk, then they're not behaving ethically."
"Well, the way things stand now, I'm due out there at the institute at
ten A.M. tomorrow. If I want to, I can be formally entered into the
clinical trials on the spot. I've passed my qualifying exam."
"You know the trials are almost over. It's like they're taking you at
the last minute."
"That's what he said. I'm going to be the last ... whatever. My friend
Jennifer just called me a guinea pig. Van de Vliet also said I'd have
to stay out there for at least a couple of weeks, probably longer.
That's going to be a bloody drag, since things are really busy down at
CitiSpace now."
"Ally, given what I know, or don't know, I don't have an entirely good
feeling about this. It could be they're hiding something, but I don't
have a clue what it is. It's quite possibly connected to that patient
who got terminated. And when I tried to raise this with Gerex's
attorneys, no less person than Winston Bartlett himself went
ballistic."
"What are you saying? That I shouldn't do it?"
"Hey, I can't make that decision for you. But one possibility would be
to just play along for a day or two and see if you can't find out a
little more about what went wrong with the patient who was dropped."
"Stone, that's maybe a little paranoid. Couldn't a single patient have
been dropped for a whole bunch of different reasons?"
"Of course, but it's not that simple. A patient was dropped from the
Gerex clinical trials, and there was no official reason given in the
data file. It made me curious enough that I had our paper's attorney
pass along a question about it to their attorneys. That motivated
Winston Bartlett to come personally to threaten me. So why is a guy who
runs a huge conglomerate suddenly afraid of one tiny question? Is there
some problem, some reaction to the procedure that they're terrified
will come to light? Ultimately millions and millions of dollars are at
stake. I want the book I'm writing to tell the whole story, not just
the part they'll want to have told. That's why God put reporters on
earth."
"Shit, Stone, I'm glad you're here. I think I told you on the phone, I
had someone I loved very much disappear on me some years ago, and I'm
feeling very alone at the moment." She looked him over. "Okay, I'll
ask. We're adults. Are you married, divorced, attached, unattached,
seeing someone, alone and suicidal, what? I mean, where do things stand
here?"
"Where things stand is that I'm very happy that I stumbled into you
after all the years. And yeah, I've got a little history. At least I'd
like to think so. But nothing is going on at the moment." Then he told
her about Joyce, the divorce, Amy. "And what was that you said about
having somebody disappear on you?" He studied her, reaching back for
the feelings that were still buried. Seeing her was bringing it back.
"What did you mean by that? Disappear like a missing person, or
disappear as in up and split, or--"
"He was my husband, Steve, and he was a political consultant. He was in
a single-engine Cessna that went down in the rain forest in Belize and
I miss him terribly."
"I'm so sorry, Ally. Nothing that's happened to me comes close to that
tragedy."
"It gets worse. A few months before that, my dad had an accident with a
Browning shotgun that was no accident."
"Jesus. What's that line about how the troubles tread on one another's
heels. Was he depressed? I guess that's a stupid question."
"He thought he was going to lose his business. After a lifetime of
work. What do you think?"
"Ally, I'm really sorry about all that."
"Well, I suppose it could be worse. As I recall, you never knew your
dad, did you?"
When am I going to tell her the truth? he asked himself.
"Let's get off the history topic tonight, what do you say. We'll both
get ourselves depressed."
"Agreed." She sipped at her scotch. "So ... you're saying I should play
along and see if I can find out something about this discharged
patient, the mere mention of whom causes grown millionaires to become
unhinged?"
"It's what / would do," he said, finishing off his scotch and settling
the glass on a coaster on a side table. Then he got up. "I have to tell
you, Ally, you look awfully tired. I'd love to be responsible for
keeping you up all night, but I doubt that would be a humane act."
"It might remind me of a time long ago and not so far away," she said
with a faint smile. "But you're right. When I get this tired, I can
precipitate an episode."
"I'd offer to drive you out there tomorrow, but that would just get you
in trouble. They probably have orders to shoot me on sight. I'm the
number one persona non grata with the top management of the Gerex
Corporation at the moment. So I'm the last person you want to be seen
with. Right now the only way you're going to find out what they're
hiding is if nobody suspects anything. Which means you've got to show
up alone."
Maybe that's true, she thought. But you're a person I'd like to be with
tonight.
"Thanks for coming over." She walked over and pecked him on the cheek.
You 're vulnerable tonight, she told herself, wanting to ask him to
stay. Don't start making any big life decisions.