She was pacing around the tiny space, all her energy suddenly having nowhere to go. Michael picked up the microphone from the panel. “Rand, what are you seeing down there?”
He was moving through the corridors below decks, checking seams. “All good so far, no leaks. She seems tight.”
Higher and higher the water rose, wrapping the hull in its cold embrace. Still the ship refused to budge.
“Flyers, this is killing me,” groaned Lore.
“That’s not an expression I’ve ever heard you use,” Michael said.
“Well, I kind of see the sense of it now.”
Michael held up a hand; he’d felt something. He willed all his senses to focus. The sensation came again: the tiniest shudder, rippling through the hull. His eyes met Lore’s; she’d detected it, too. The great creature was coming to life. The deck shifted beneath him with a deep moan.
“Here we go!” Lore cried.
The Bergensfjord began to lift from her braces.
At the end of the block, the Denali appeared, turning the corner with painstaking care. Carter stepped into the road and positioned himself in its path. He did not hold up his hand or in any way indicate his wish that it should stop. He stepped aside as the car came to a halt in front of him. With a hushed, mechanical purr, the driver’s window drew down. Crisp air and a smell of leather flowed out onto his face.
“Mr. Carter?”
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Wood.”
She was wearing her tennis clothes. The silver packages in back, the baby seat with its mobile of plush toys, the sunglasses perched on her head: all the same as the morning they’d met.
“You’re looking well,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed on his face, as if she were attempting to read small print. “You stopped me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I don’t understand. Why did you do that?”
“Why don’t you pull into the driveway? We can have us a talk.”
She glanced around with confusion
“You go on now,” he assured her.
Rather reluctantly, she turned the Denali into the driveway and shut off the engine. Carter stepped to the driver’s side window again. The motor was making a quiet ticking sound. Hands locked on the steering wheel, Rachel stared straight out the windshield, as if afraid to look at him.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to be doing this,” she said.
“It’s all right,” Carter said.
Her voice sharpened with panic. “But it’s not all right. It’s not all right at all.”
Carter opened her door. “Why don’t you come and see the yard, Mrs. Wood? Kept it nice for you.”
“I’m supposed to drive the car. That’s what I do. That’s my job.”
“Just this morning planted one of those cut-leaf maples you like. You should see how pretty it is.”
For a moment she was silent. Then: “A cut-leaf maple, you say?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded pensively to herself. “I always thought it would be just the right thing for that corner. You know the one I mean?”
“Absolutely I do.”
She turned to look at him. For a moment she studied his face, her blue eyes slightly squinted. “You’re always thinking of me, aren’t you, Mr. Carter? You always know just the thing to say. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend like you.”
“Oh, I expect you have.”
“Oh, please. I have people, sure. Lots of people in Rachel Wood’s life. But never anyone who understands me the way you do.” She looked at him kindly. “But you and me. We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
“I’d say we are, Mrs. Wood.”
“Now, if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. It’s Rachel.”
He nodded. “Anthony, then.”
Her face opened as if she’d discovered something. “Rachel and Anthony! We’re like two characters in a movie.”
He held out a hand. “Why don’t you come on now, Rachel? It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”
Accepting his hand for balance, she exited the car. By the open door she paused with great deliberateness and filled her lungs with air.
“Now, that’s a wonderful smell,” she said. “What is that?”
“Cut the lawn just now. I suspect that’s it.”
“Of course. Now I remember.” She smiled with satisfaction. “How long has it been since I smelled new-mown grass? Smelled anything, for that matter.”
“Garden’s waiting on you. Lots of good smells there.”
He made a circle with his arm; Rachel let him lead the way. The shadows were stretching over the ground; evening was about to fall. He steered her to the gate, where she came to a stop.
“Do you know how you make me feel, Anthony? I’ve been trying to think how to say it.”
“How’s that?”
“You make me feel seen. Like I was invisible until you came along. Does that sound crazy? Probably it does.”
“Not to me,” said Carter.