Authors: P. R. Garlick
"I was up till two studying my lines." She looked at the clock
on her wall. "Good God, Jack. It's only seven now!"
Jack threw back his head and laughed. "Some people do get
out of bed early, you know. But it's probably the farmer in me. We
rise with the sun."
"Is that where you've been all this time?" she asked. "I mean,
since I left you in California."
"Most of it. I stayed there until everything was cleared up."
"And Marsh?" she asked, avoiding his eyes as she spoke.
"I hear he's doing much better." Jack walked over to the sofa
and sat down. "He was still in the hospital when I left there."
"I'm glad about that," she said nervously. "I guess I don't have
to tell you to make yourself at home. I'll go and get dressed. Being
taken out for breakfast, by my brother, is a novelty I can't refuse. I get
to see so little of you."
"That's why I'm here," he said, watching as she turned to face
him again. "Go get ready first. We can talk over breakfast."
Liane did as he asked, but was curious to hear what he had
meant by his words. She was also anxious to hear more about Marsh,
though she'd never admit it. Several times during the past weeks she
had wondered just how he was doing. She had to resist the temptation
to call and find out for herself.
I
"Okay, now for the reason I'm here." Jack began after they had
placed their order with the waitress. "I'm going to be home for awhile
and wanted you to come up for a visit. I thought the vacation might
do you good. And besides, I rarely get to see my sisters anymore."
"I know." She sighed. "But I doubt that I can. My show
opens Friday night. I was hoping you could make it down for that.
I'm playing the lead. It's the chance I've been waiting for."
Jack stared at her strangely before going on. "I remember how
you used to love to ride. Don't you think you could make it for just
one day?"
"I don't know," she hesitated.
"You look like you could use a vacation," he added quickly.
"A real one this time. I don't think your visit to South America could
be classified as one."
"Hardly." She forced a dry laugh as her thoughts returned to
Marsh. "Maybe I could get away for one day."
"Good. You can fly up. It saves time," he said quickly. Too
quickly.
"Fly?" She looked at him suspiciously. "I think I did enough
of that to last a lifetime."
"I may as well confess, Marsh will be there. It's his first real
outing since being discharged from the hospital. I thought he could . .
."
"No!" She shook her blonde head. "I'm really very busy with
the play. Besides, I don't think he'd be happy to see me again
–
or
does he even know you planned this?" She was afraid to hope.
"I kept my promise, Sis," Jack said. "I haven't mentioned you
to him once."
"And did he mention anything?"
"Nothing." He frowned. "But he was really in pretty bad
shape. I've only spoken to him a couple times on the phone since I
left L.A."
"Jack, it's clear he wants nothing to do with me."
"You can't be sure of that. He's got a lot on his mind."
She shook her head. "No, Jack. He's better off rid of me. I
was a thorn in his side. I nearly got him killed."
"That wasn't your fault . . .he was doing his job." Jack
frowned. "And you were both trying to save me."
"Jack, please don't insist. I know you want to help me. You
probably feel you owe it to me for trying to help you. But you don't.
Just leave things the way they are. Please."
"Liane, are you sure?"
"I'm sure." She forced a smile. "But I still want to see you at
my opening night. You can escort me to the cast party later after the
show."
"That sounds like an opportunity I don't want to miss." He
looked at her more seriously. "I just want to see you happy, Sis."
"Thanks, Jack. I will be," she replied, but wasn't very
convincing.
I
"I have to speak to you," Mary Catherine said as she entered
her sister's apartment. "A long, overdue talk!"
Liane closed the door behind her sister, confused by the
uncommon angry tones in Mary Catherine's voice.
"What's wrong?" she asked, suddenly reminded of the last time
her sister looked this upset. Only that time it was fear. "Maybe you
should sit."
"Maybe
we
should. I believe your explanation may be a long
one," the nun stated.
"My explanation. I don't understand."
"Your explanation about what really happened in South
America, while you were pretending to be me."
"I already did explain that." Liane looked away, her face
growing red. "At least about the most important things."
"I think you left out the most important things. I know what
I've said about omitting things, but this was different!"
"There was only one thing I didn't tell you . . ." Stunned,
Liane felt the color drain from her face. "How did you find out?"
"You mean, that I was supposed to have had a romantic
interlude with a handsome pilot, while stranded in the middle of the
jungles of Peru," Mary Catherine said. "How do you think I found
out? The man who shared the experience told me. That's how! Of
course it was only after he insulted me with a verbal onslaught I could
never repeat."
"He what? When?"
"I went up to Jack's farm in Connecticut. You knew I was
invited. Jack said he asked you too."
"Yes, he did. But I refused because . . .well, because Marsh
would be there."
"Why didn't you ever clear things up with him? My goodness,
Liane, the man thought I was you. At least at first he did. He was
well into his tirade before he realized his mistake. Then he was just
as confused as I was."
"I never told him." Liane grimaced. "I wanted to. But the
timing was never right."
"The timing was never right! I would think while you were . .
. or even before you . . ."
"I couldn't tell him," Liane explained. "I wasn't certain I
could trust him."
"Not trust him! But you could . . ." Mary Catherine leaned
back against the white chair and sighed. "Never mind. Why didn't
you tell him once you found Jack?"
"He was shot and in the hospital. I thought it was better that I
just leave."
"Simple as that, right?" Mary Catherine said, more softly now.
"But it wasn't simple at all, was it?"
"No, but it didn't really matter." Liane turned weary green
eyes toward her sister. "I'm sorry if he took his anger out on you. I
didn't think it mattered since I'd never see him again."
"You didn't consider
my
ever seeing him."
Liane shrugged. "I thought Jack would . . ." Her frown grew.
"I'm sorry M.C. . . .It was all my fault. I made Jack promise not to
talk to Marsh about me. If Marsh hadn't figured out who I really was
on his own, Jack wouldn't have broken that promise and told him."
"Well he knows now."
"I hope he wasn't too hard on you, M.C."
"Hard on me isn't an adequate description."
"What else can I say? If I had gone up there like Jack asked, I
could have spared you all the embarrassment."
"Yes, and you could have gotten everything cleared up."
"There isn't anything to clear up, M.C. I'm certain he made it
clear to you just how he feels."
"He did that . . .but do you . . ." Mary Catherine couldn't
continue as they were interrupted by the shrill ring of Liane's
telephone.
"That was Martin," Liane said when she hung up and returned
to the room. "There's been a last minute change and he wants me
down at the theater right away. I'm sorry, but I have to run."
"But Liane, I was in the middle of telling you what Marsh
said."
"M.C., I think I can assume it wasn't anything flattering. I've
done nothing but get in Marsh's way. He's probably thrilled that it
was you visiting Jack rather than me."
"Liane, I think you should listen . . ." Mary Catherine started,
but stopped. "Oh well, you have enough on your mind. I suppose it's
best you hear this later."
"Thanks, Sis," Liane said as she picked up her purse. "I gotta
go now." She stopped at the doorway. "You will be there tonight,
won't you. I'd like to have my family in the audience. Jack said he's
coming."
"Don't worry, everyone you care about will be there," Mary
Catherine said as she passed her through the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Liane was finally able to escape the crowds of well wishers
after the final curtain of the play. It had been a success in the eyes of
the audience and it was unavoidable that she would be greeted by the
many people backstage.
Now trying to relax, she sat back in the seat, as the limo
Martin had hired took her to her apartment. She was glad she had sent
a messenger with her key so Jack and M.C. wouldn't have to wait at
the theater.
Instead they could wait in the comfort of her apartment until
she could make her escape and return home. Then later they would
drop Mary Catherine at the convent before Jack and she went on to
the cast party.
Closing her eyes she waited for the sweet feeling of success.
She had worked so long and hard to reach this point in her career.
And now that it was here, she felt strangely void of feelings.
Telling herself she was simply tired, she tried to forget the
feeling of discontentment she had since returning to New York.