Perfect (Second Opportunities 2)

"Mr. Farrell's going to need new brakes after two landings on this strip." the pilot said, sounding a little shaken and very relieved. "What's the plan for tonight, Mr. Benedict? Should I check into a motel for the night or head back to the West Coast?"

Zack reached over to the intercom button on the console between the two sofas, then he hesitated and faced what he had tried to ignore all the way here: He did not have the slightest idea whether Julie now hated him more than she'd loved him. He didn't know what sort of reception he was going to get from her or how much time it was going to take to convince her to come back to California with him or if he could ever convince her to do that. Pressing the button, he said belatedly, "Check into a motel for the night, Steve. I'll send the cab back here for you."

The pilot was still shutting down the engines when Zack walked swiftly down the steps. The taxi driver was standing at attention beside the open door of his cab wearing the most ludicrously unauthentic Civil War uniform Zack had ever seen, assuming that's what it was supposed to be. "Do you know where Julie Mathison lives?" he asked him as he slid into the back seat and put his briefcase down. "If not, I need to find a phone book. I forgot to bring her address."

"Of course I know where she lives," the driver said, his eyes narrowing on Zack's face, his expression turning ferocious as he recognized it. He got into the front seat and slammed the door with unnecessary force. "Your name Benedict?" he demanded several minutes later as they drove past the elementary school and into a quaint downtown district set around a courthouse, with shops and restaurants surrounding the square.

Zack was busy looking around at the town where Julie had grown up. "Yes."

A half mile from the downtown district, the cab pulled to a stop in front of a neat one-story house with an immaculate lawn and big shade trees, and Zack felt his heart began to beat in nervous anticipation as he dug in his pocket for money. "How much do I owe you?"

"Fifty bucks."

"You're kidding."

"For anyone else, the ride costs five bucks. For a skunk like you, it costs fifty bucks. Now, if you want me to take you to where Julie really is, instead of leaving you here, where she ain't, it'll cost you seventy-five."

Torn between anger, surprise, and tension, Zack ignored the aspersion cast on his character and sat back. "Where is she?"

"At the high school where she's handlin' the rehearsal for the pageant."

Zack remembered passing the high school with its crowded parking lot. He hesitated, desperate to see her, to set things straight, to hold her in his arms if she'd let him. His voice tinged with sarcasm, he said, "Do you also happen to know how long she'll be there?"

"It could go on all night," Herman lied out of sheer spite.

"In that case, take me there."

The driver jerked his head in a nod and pulled away from the curb. "I don't see why you're in such a hurry to see her, now," he said, glaring at Zack in the rearview mirror. "You left her here all this time to face the reporters and the cops all by herself after you snatched her and took her to Colorado. When you got out of prison, you didn't come to see her either. You've been too busy with your fancy women and your parties to bother with a sweet girl like Julie, who's never hurt anybody in her whole life! You've shamed her in front of the whole world, in front of this whole town! People outside of Keaton hate her because she did the right thing in Mexico, only it turned out to be the wrong thing. I hope," he finished vengefully as they pulled up in front of the doors to the high school, "she pokes you in the eye when she sees you! If I were her daddy, I'd get out my shotgun and come lookin' for you, soon as I heard you're in town! I hope he does."

"You'll probably get both your wishes," Zack said quietly, pulling a hundred-dollar bill out of his pocket and handing it to him. "Go back to the airport and get my pilot. He's not a skunk, so another twenty-five dollars should cover your trip."

Something in his voice made Herman hesitate and turn around in his seat. "Are you plannin' to finally make it up with her? Is that why you're here?"

"I'm going to try."

The hostility on his face died. "Your pilot's gonna have to wait a few minutes. This, I want to see. Besides, you may need a friend in that crowd."

Zack didn't hear him, he was already striding into the school, following the direction of the noise coming from behind the double doors at the end of the corridor to his right.

Chapter 77

He spotted Julie in the crowd before the gymnasium doors swung closed behind him. She was conducting a chorus of children dressed in various costumes, some of whom were in wheelchairs, while a pianist accompanied them up on the stage.

Mesmerized, he stood there, listening to the sweet sound of her voice, watching her incredible smile, and the shattering tenderness he felt made his chest ache. Clad in jeans and a school sweatshirt, with her hair pulled into a ponytail and tied with a scarf, she looked adorable … and thin. Her cheekbones and eyes were more prominent now than before, and Zack swallowed over the knot of guilt in his throat when he realized how much weight she'd lost. Because of him. The cab driver said Zack had shamed her in front of the town; he was going to undo some of that now if he could. Ignoring the startled glances and exchanged whispers beginning to circulate around the room as people in the bleachers and on the floor noted his presence and recognized his face, he started forward.

"Okay, you guys, what's the problem?" Julie said, when several of the older children stopped singing and began to whisper and point. Behind her, she was distantly aware of the hush falling over the cavernous room and the echo of a man's footsteps on the wooden floor, but she was preoccupied with the increasing lateness of the hour and her students' flagging attention. "Willie, if you finally want your chance to sing, then pay attention," she warned, but he was pointing to something behind her and whispering furiously to Johnny Everett and Tim Wimple. "Miss Timmons," she said, looking up at the pianist who was also gaping open-mouthed at something behind her. "Miss Timmons—let's run through it again." But when Julie looked back down, part of the children's chorus was breaking up and moving forward in a small group being led by Willie Jenkins.

"Where do you think you're going?" Julie burst out as they passed her. She spun around. And froze.

Zack was standing fifteen feet away from her, his hands at his sides. He'd finally read her last letter, she thought wildly, and he'd come at last to get his car. She stood there, afraid to speak, afraid to move, gazing at the sternly handsome face that had haunted her dreams and tormented her days.