The Last Pilot: A Novel

That’s about the size of it, Nancy, I had a lump in my throat as big as a tennis ball.

 

And finally, Primly, I know that the most important prayer of your life has already been answered: Squarely has returned safely from outer space. But if you could have one other wish at this moment and have it come true, what would it be?

 

Well, Nancy, I’d wish for an Electrolux vacuum cleaner with all the attachments.

 

Grace lowered her fist.

 

And then they roll about laughing for the next ten minutes, she said.

 

Harrison grunted. Grace sat down and said, all I want to say to the press when they ask me how I feel is, nobody cared before, so why the hell bother now? I wish Pancho was here. I wish she was at Sue Borman’s goddamn coffee mornings.

 

She’d sure put them in their place, he said.

 

Grace sighed. Her heart sunk low in her chest.

 

I miss her, she said.

 

They shot down a U-2 over Cuba today, he said.

 

I don’t care, she said.

 

He noticed the envelope on the table for the first time.

 

What’s that? he said.

 

It came this morning, she said.

 

Can we go in? It’s freezing out here, he said.

 

Sure.

 

They went inside.

 

What is it? he said.

 

She handed him the envelope. He opened it.

 

I don’t get it? he said.

 

It’s a thousand-dollar gift certificate to Neiman-Marcus, she said. It’s a fashion store downtown.

 

Who sent you this?

 

She gave a little laugh that was sad and ironic and bitter all at the same time.

 

It’s a gift from an anonymous priest, she said. We all got one. The nine of us.

 

Why the hell would a priest—

 

So we can afford the right clothes, she said. The right clothes for the society parties, the drinks receptions, the press conferences, the launches.

 

You’re kidding me? he said.

 

Wish I was, she said.

 

Jesus, he said. That’s a little odd.

 

A little odd? she said. A little odd? A so-called priest giving me a thousand bucks to go shopping? Yeah, Jim, I’d say that was a little goddamn odd. On the upside, I can now buy dresses I don’t like for parties I despise. A black backless number, maybe? Some feathers and sequins? Some daytime attire from Yves Saint Laurent? Because that’s what’s missing from my life? I’m sick of it, Jim—I hate it; I hate this. I miss the desert; the wilderness. I want to ride a horse if I want, or take a walk with earth not concrete under my feet. And this, this is the worst kind of suburbia. This has been created. There’s nothing authentic about any of it, apart from the goddamn lake, and that’s one giant goddamn oil slick. I’m sorry, Jim; I want to go back.

 

You just want to go back so you can visit the Rosamond Park Cemetery every day, he said.

 

Jesus, she said. You still can’t say her name, can you? It’s Florence. Florence!

 

He didn’t say anything.

 

And she’s dead because the cobalt killed her, Grace said.

 

It was the only option left! There wasn’t anything else we—

 

Yes there was! she said. Nothing. We could have done nothing. And if we had, she could have gone on, she could still— Nothing? How could we have done nothing?

 

That’s the thing with you, Jim, she said. You’ve always got to be doing something. Even if it means— She broke off.

 

What? he said.

 

What the hell does it matter.

 

We had no choice! Harrison said.

 

There is always a choice! Grace said.

 

So it’s my fault, is it? My fault she’s—

 

He hesitated.

 

It was a decision we made together, he said.

 

You sure about that? she said. Duck would be three and a half now.

 

Don’t, he said.

 

Don’t what? Talk about it? You want me to be like you? Do you have any idea what it was like—what it is like—being married to you? You left me on my own to deal with it! You never ever talked to me. You never talked about it.

 

Doesn’t mean I didn’t—

 

I know that, she said. I know it devastated you. It broke you. I could see it. I could tell. I knew how much you loved her. I know.

 

His face was wet.

 

You shut yourself off, she said. You went straight back to work. That hurt me so much. I needed you … desperately. I was so angry. You knew that. You just kept as far away from it as you could. You kept away from me.

 

Tears fell silently down his face.

 

I can’t stay here, she said. I want to go back. I want to go home.

 

I can’t go back, he said.

 

But I can’t stay here, she said. I know the program needs the perfect marriage. So I’m just gonna go. You can tell Deke whatever you want. Tell him I’m sick. I owe you that much.

 

Harrison didn’t say anything.

 

I’m going to stay in a hotel downtown tonight, she said. I booked it after I got back from Sue’s. Tomorrow I’m flying to LA. Grace Walker is picking me up from the airport. Air force hasn’t leased the house to anyone yet, so I’m going back. They’ll be happy to get it off their hands again. I miss our home. I miss my friends. And I miss my little girl. I feel close to her there. I like being surrounded by her life. I’ll call you in a few weeks.

 

He didn’t say anything.

 

I’ve got a bag, she said. It’s in the guest room.

 

She went to get it. Then she left.

 

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