It’s okay, she said. It can wait. God, you still look peaky. Let me get you some water. You never drink enough water. Hold on.
She disappeared and he pulled at his clothes where they were stuck to his skin. He wiped his face and ran his fingers through his hair. Maggie returned with a tall glass of water.
Here you go, she said.
He took the glass and drank it in one long gulp.
Better? she said.
He nodded.
See? she said.
And he did feel better. His pulse slowed to a steady thump. His head felt clear, but his mind tugged at the thoughts he’d had. Maggie cut them off.
Look, if you feel well enough, go to Baltimore, she said. If not, go home. We’re not going to the moon this afternoon.
I’m fine, he said. I’m going to Baltimore.
He gathered his things and left.
They had rooms at the Lord Baltimore, a twenty-three-story hotel housed in a French Renaissance building that once hid a speakeasy in the basement. The tour of Martin had been productive. The Titan II was on track. The engineers were doing solid work. Good job too; it would be his ass on the line soon enough.
Harrison dropped his bag off in his room and went down to the bar. The soft Art Deco golds and browns and reds soothed his eyes. He ordered a scotch, which soothed him further. The others were still upstairs, in their rooms, taking showers. He hadn’t bothered. Deke appeared from an elevator and Harrison waved him over.
What are you doing here? Harrison said.
Last-minute meeting with Larry about the booster. I’ll have one of them, Deke said to the bartender, pointing at Harrison’s glass. The bartender nodded, and walked away.
So what do you think?
Of the scotch? Harrison said.
Of Martin.
They’re on schedule. What else is there?
You okay?
Fine, Harrison said. But, look, Deke, I got something I need to tell you.
No good conversation ever started out like that, Deke said.
I was gonna tell you in Houston, but, shit, Deke, he said. Grace has gone back to California.
On vacation?
Permanently.
Right.
Look, I respect you more than anyone around here, so I wanted to be straight with you. I know the program doesn’t need a divorce and, hell, it might not even come to that, but, well, it’s been a long time comin, I guess. I mean, Christ, I wish it wasn’t happening but … It’s been a tough few years.
Deke didn’t say anything. The bartender returned with Deke’s scotch.
All we’re doing is living apart, Harrison said. Grace told me we could say what we want. Say she’s sick; that she’s gone back to rest, away from all this. She doesn’t care. She was dyin here, Deke.
Look, Deke said, picking up his drink. We’re not the morality cops. I just need you focused on the right thing.
And I am, Harrison said.
Good, Deke said. Then that’s all there is. That’s me talking as your boss. As your friend, I sure am sorry to hear it.
Yeah, Harrison said. She took Milo.
She took the dog?
Yeah. And the goddamn coffee machine too.
The coffee machine?
It was a good one.
I’d like to see someone put that in a blues song.
Glad I’m here to keep you entertained, Harrison said.
Deke looked over at the elevator.
I gotta go, Deke said. Here’s Gus.
Harrison looked around and saw Grissom approach them.
Now, Gus here, Deke said. He’s a gruff little fella, but he sure knows how to cut loose when called for.
Where you headin? Harrison said.
Gonna find us some fun, Gus said.
You wanna come? Deke said.
I’m gonna sit here, finish this drink, then grab some food with a few of the boys.
Well, okay then, Deke said. Guess I’ll see you at the Cape on Tuesday.
Sure thing.