Authors: Nan Ryan
There was one thing on her mind. The Bahamas with Sullivan Ward. Hardly believing her good fortune, Kay had the glorious premonition that it would be there, in that breathtaking island paradise, that the man she loved to distraction would at long last surrender.
Kay went from boutique to boutique searching for clothes to take on her trip. By the time the desert sun was slipping below Camelback Mountain, Kay climbed tiredly into the front seat of the borrowed Buick. The car’s roomy trunk and back seat were filled with her purchases.
That evening she went out to dinner with her family and had a difficult time following the table conversation. Her mind was on Sullivan. She missed him terribly. On arising the next day she told her parents that she’d decided she really should be getting back to Denver. She was touched by the disappointment in her mother’s eyes, but felt she couldn’t bear one more day without seeing Sullivan.
Packing hurriedly, Kay caught the next plane to Denver. She didn’t bother going to her apartment. She drove straight to the radio station, her heart speeding as she ascended to the top floor of the building. She rushed past Sherry, raising her hand to indicate she was in a hurry. Down the corridor she went, directly toward Sullivan’s office.
It was empty. The top of his big desk was clean. There were no lights burning. Numbly, Kay stood staring around the room, puzzled.
“He’s not here, Kay.” Janelle stood in the doorway.
Kay whirled around. “No?”
“Sullivan left this morning for Vail. He went on a skiing trip. He didn’t mention it to you?”
“Ah, no, I suppose he forgot.” Kay smiled weakly. “How long will he stay? A couple of days?”
“Longer. He said not to look for him until after New Year’s.”
Kay couldn’t keep from frowning. “Sullivan is going to spend New Year’s in Vail with…with…”
“Alone.” Janelle shook her head. “As you probably know, Q102 has a condo up there. Any of us can use it; all you have to do is sign up for the date you wish to occupy it. Sullivan looked at the records, saw no one would be using it and went up.” Janelle paused, smiled understandingly at Kay and added, “He’s not with a woman, Kay. I know him. He’s really alone and I’ve an idea he’ll spend a lot of time before the fire thinking.”
“About what?”
Janelle didn’t answer her question.
Promotion of the upcoming January trip to the Bahamas began on the very day Sullivan first mentioned it to Kay. The junket, a joint venture between Q102 radio and a local travel agency, was a highly advantageous form of advertising for both parties.
The popularity of the Sullivan-and-Kay morning show insured the booking of enough travelers to fill a jumbo jet to Miami. The travel agency would make a healthy profit. The radio station would receive free travel through the agency, as well as more exposure for its talented team.
Kay heard the first commercial promoting the trip driving to her apartment after learning that Sullivan was in Vail. Ace Black was on the air, and with a great deal of enthusiasm he announced to his listening audience that the “Fabulous Fly and Float Fun Package” was rapidly filling up.
Kay, grimacing at the forced alliteration, wondered who’d dreamed it up. She turned up the volume to listen to the remainder of Ace’s spiel.
“For a price so modest you can’t possibly pass it up, you and your mate can go on the trip of a lifetime with Sullivan and Kay acting as your hosts. Fly nonstop to Miami International where you’ll board the luxury liner,
Carnivale
, for the day-long cruise to the lush, tropical island of Nassau. Spend six sun-drenched days and five flower-scented nights in the romantic…”
Kay was smiling. Six glorious days in an island paradise with Sullivan! A chill of anticipation skipped up her spine and the disappointment of Sullivan being out of town until after the first of the year began to subside. After all, in little more than three weeks, she’d have him all to herself under a Bahamian moon.
Kay laughed aloud. All to herself? Sure, with only about two hundred Denver travelers. But no matter. It would be warm and lovely and the perfect setting for romance.
Kay affixed a brand-new calendar to the door of her refrigerator with a magnetized ceramic carrot and began marking off the days. She had circled the date of January twentieth, Miami departure day, with bold red strokes. Each night before she went to bed, she marked a huge red X through the day ended and smiled like the Cheshire cat. She’d retire to snuggle beneath the warm comforter and dream of a handsome, dark, half-naked Sullivan sunning his long, lean body on beaches of soft sand while she lay beside him, sipping cooling rum drinks through a colored straw.
On the day after New Year’s, Kay was in her small office at the station, her booted feet resting on her desk, the latest copy of
Billboard
magazine on her lap. She yawned, closed her eyes and laid her head back against the tall padded leather chair. She was sleepy. She just had to close her eyes for a few moments.
“We don’t allow no slackers ’round here.” The deep, teasing voice brought her heart-poundingly awake.
In the door, leaning lazily against the frame, stood a grinning Sullivan Ward. Not expecting him, overwhelmed by his compelling presence, Kay found herself speechless and paralyzed. Silently scolding herself for not being able to come back with some welcoming remark of her own, she remained reclining in her chair, watching him step inside, close the door and approach her.
“Sweetheart,” he kidded, putting his hands to her booted feet. “Only important executives like me should be propping their feet on their desks.”
Kay licked her dry lips, looking up at him. Wearing what she was certain was an idiotic smile, she nodded and watched while he gently moved her feet to the floor, took hold of her arm and pulled her up from the chair. The forgotten magazine slid from her lap. His hands were on her upper arms; he was standing very close to her and he was still smiling. “I’m awfully disappointed, Kay,” he said, his eyes going to her mouth.
“Why?” She found her tongue. “Reading
Billboard
is just as important to our profession as…what?”
Sullivan Ward kissed her nose, shook his head and took her hand. “I meant, I thought you’d miss me, but you don’t seem at all thrilled to see me.”
“Oh, Sullivan. I am, really,” she quickly assured him, thinking to herself he would never know that she’d lived for this moment since she’d left him to fly to Phoenix.
“Well, that’s a little better.” He dropped her hand, slid his up to lightly grip the nape of her neck and drew her to the door. “Buy me a cup of coffee and tell me all about your holiday.”
They went down the hall toward the coffee room, Sullivan never releasing her neck. He stood so close to her that Kay could feel the coldness clinging to his knee-length tweed coat. But the hand upon her neck was so warm and welcome it caused a curl of fire to spread through Kay. Cheeks coloring, she vividly imagined how it would feel to have that sure, warm hand glide over her entire body.
“Damn,” Sullivan was saying, “here I’m freezing and you’re not the least bit chilly.” He gave her a sly grin, his eyes flashing disturbingly. “Your pretty face is glowing with warmth.”
Kay looked up at him, shrugged his hand away and said, “Perhaps hot coffee will do the trick. Sullivan, what is it?”
“Nothing, really, Kay. It’s just—” He paused and in his eyes was the faintest hint of embarrassment. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I’m glad you’re glad.”
Kay paced the white-carpeted floor of her apartment. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms. Sighing, she again hurried to the sliding glass door at the front of the living room. Peering out into the gathering darkness, she could see the snow was growing heavier.
Pushed by driving winds, the huge wet snowflakes swirled around, covering Kay’s high balcony as well as the manicured grounds below, the city streets and the busy freeways. Kay whirled, stormed down the hall to her bedroom and again checked the neatly packed suitcases scattered all around the room.
In her frustration, Kay talked aloud to herself. “I just know we won’t get to go tomorrow,” she railed bleakly. “There’s bound to already be six inches of snow on the ground and if it continues…”
Kay flung herself down onto her bed, picked up the television remote control and flicked on the set. Channel ten’s weatherman did nothing to allay her worst fears. “The cold air mass came down from Canada.” He indicated a colored map behind him. “The national weather service gives me little hope that this, the worst blizzard of the season, will end anytime soon. The mercury should dip well below the zero mark tonight, and pay no heed to that old adage ‘it’s too cold to snow.’ It doesn’t get too cold to snow and snow, which we’re already having, will increase during the night. We expect anywhere from—”
Kay angrily flipped off the set. “Damn.” She sighed. “Damn, damn, damn.” Back to the living room she hurried, rushing once again to look out at the storm in the Rockies that was becoming a very real threat to the trip she’d looked forward to with childlike excitement.
The plane she and Sullivan were to board for the Bahamas holiday was to leave at 8:00 a.m. Today Sullivan had taken her to lunch at Leo’s, where they met various members of the gang. She’d been elated when he’d turned to her and said, so softly the others didn’t hear him, “How would you like a sausage pizza?”
That he would remember all these years so thrilled her. Kay became more optimistic than ever that when they reached the island, that the two of them would…
He shared the pizza with her and they laughed and lingered after the others had one by one drifted back across the street to the radio station. Alone at the long table, they slowly sipped their wine and discussed everything from politics to prayer to passion. Religion to records to romance. Food to funnypapers to flying. You name it, they talked about it. It was just the way it had been when they were falling in love the first time.
By the time Sullivan and Kay reluctantly left the deserted bar and stepped out into the street, they were met with the first dusting of small, crystal snowflakes. Neither thought much about it. It often snowed in Denver in January.
Kay stopped by Sullivan’s office at five-thirty to say goodnight. “So Jeff is to pick you up, then you two will come to my place no later than seven?” Kay thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her red fox jacket.
“Seven sharp.” Sullivan, nodding, rose from his chair. “Now be ready, Kay. You know we have to check in and be on board to greet the travelers.”
“I’ll be ready and waiting.” She smiled and rubbed a cheek on the tickly soft fur of her jacket. “I’m going straight home, will do all last-minute packing, take a bath and go right to bed.”
“Sounds good. Tell you what, since it’s snowing, why don’t you give me a call tonight. Just so I’ll know you’re home and safe, okay?”
“No. Not okay.”
“Why?”
Kay smiled. “You call me.”
“Done.”
Kay’s telephone rang. She jerked up the receiver. “Yes?”
“Can you believe this?” Sullivan’s deep voice sounded concerned.
“Oh, Sullivan, do you think we’ll get to go?”
“Kay, to be honest, I’m not so sure. I was hoping come night the storm would lighten up, but if anything, it’s getting worse.”
“I know,” Kay said disappointedly. “I just know we won’t get to go! I could cry.”
“Don’t do that. The thought of you crying is more than I can bear. Stapleton will have the snowplows out all night. Keep the faith.”
Kay sighed. “I’ll try, but I don’t mind telling you I’ll be terribly upset if we don’t get to go.”
“Tell you what, if the trip is cancelled, I’ll bring a bathing suit, a sunlamp and my old Belafonte record of ‘Island in the Sun’ over to your place. We’ll slather on oil and stretch out by the fire.” His deep laughter filled her ear.
She laughed, too. “Not quite the same, Sullivan; however, I may hold you to it.”
“Get some rest, Kay. Jeff and I will be by to pick you up at seven.”
“Sullivan,” she said, “I’ll offer up a solemn little prayer if you will.”
Sullivan laughed louder. “Sweetheart, let’s hope the almighty has something more important on his mind than a couple of Denver disc jockeys longing to flee to warm sands to behave like pagans.”
“You’re right.” Kay felt a twinge of guilt. “But I intend to do it just the same.”
“Night, Kay,” Sullivan said, still chuckling. “You pray, I’ll cross my fingers.”
Kay replaced the receiver, sighed again and did indeed say a silent prayer. Never had she wanted anything more than this planned trip to go off as scheduled. It wasn’t just the enjoyable vacation in a beautiful locale. It was the rest of her life at stake here!
Kay tossed and turned and finally found the blessed release of sleep. The alarm jangled at 5:00 a.m. Kay’s eyes flew open and she bounded from her bed, hurrying anxiously to the window. Snow, blinding white and thick, was falling as it had all night long. Drifts, five and six feet high, piled up against surrounding buildings. Streetlights were almost invisible in the relentless fast-falling snow. Kay’s chest tightened with alarm.
She turned on the radio. Dale Kitrell was speaking, “and it looks as though it will keep right on falling. Accumulations of up to fourteen inches have been reported in the foothills.”
Feeling as though she might cry, Kay, jerking the soft pink flannel nightgown over her head, went to the shower thinking—major airports do not close simply because of a little snowstorm. They have plows to clear runways. There’s absolutely nothing for me to worry about.
She’d just exited from the shower when her phone rang. For a moment Kay, a big towel wrapped around her damp body, simply stared at it, afraid of what she’d hear. After four loud, insistent rings she jerked it up and said, “Hello.”
“Kay—” Sullivan’s deep voice sounded urgent “—I know it’ll rush you too much, but do you suppose you could be ready to leave your place by six-fifteen? I’m afraid we’re going to have a devil of a time getting to the airport.”
Kay, nodding furiously, suddenly realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes, yes,” she almost shouted at him. “I’ll be ready. Sullivan, will we get to go?”