Page 44 of Prime Time

“Oh, General Ratliff, that was wonderful,” Andy said, taking off her mike and handing it to Gil. She leaned over the old man and undid the clip that held his mike and hugged him heartily.

“I got rather carried away, I’m afraid.”

“You were priceless.”

“What’d you think, Les?” Jeff asked excitedly.

“It was okay.”

“I don’t even think we need reverse questions,” Jeff said.

“I’ll leave it up to you,” Les said.

“Dad, are you all right?” Lyon came up behind Andy to ask.

“I’ve not had so much fun in years. Some of those stories I didn’t even know I remembered until I started telling them. Imagine me thinking of them after all this time.” He chuckled again, lost in his private thoughts. Then his eyes became misty, and he clasped his son’s hands. Looking up at Lyon, he said quietly, “It wasn’t all bad, Lyon. Now that I think on it, it wasn’t.”

“We’d better get you back to the house,” Lyon said and started the motor on the wheelchair. He walked at its side, a protective hand resting on his father’s frail shoulder.

“What do you think he meant by that?” Les asked Andy as they followed the others up the incline.

“Meant by what?”

“Don’t go stupid on me, for God’s sakes, Andy. What did he mean by ‘It wasn’t all bad’?”

“Just what he said, I guess. He was telling funny stories. He meant that all his war experiences hadn’t been gruesome.”

“It was more than that, and you know it,” he hissed angrily.

“All I know is that unless you draw blood, you’re not happy. Well, I am. I think the interviews went great. If you were looking for some deep, dark secret to come out that would blacken an old man’s reputation, then I’m sorry. You’ll have to do without this time.”

She marched ahead of him and got to the patio at the same time as the general in his wheelchair did. Lyon was holding the door for him, but the general detained him. “Just a moment, Lyon. I want to speak to Andy. I may not see her again before she leaves.”

With her eyes she asked Lyon’s permission, and he reluctantly backed away. The cruel lines around his mouth devastated her. She would leave him unforgiven for what he saw as her duplicity.

She knelt beside Michael Ratliff. He took her hand between the two of his and squeezed it hard. “I know you’ll think this the wistful daydreaming of an old man, but I had a feeling about you before I ever heard you lurking outside the door that day. You became very real to me that night Lyon ranted and raved about your tenacity, your gall. As angry and uncomplimentary as he was about you, I think his meeting you had a profound effect on him, Andy. I think you were supposed to come into our lives.

“I ask you bluntly. Old men don’t have time for tact. Are you in love with my son?”

She laid her head on his bony knee and squeezed her eyes against the tears she could feel welling up in them. She nodded her head, then raised it to look up at him. “Yes, yes, I am.”

His wavering hand stroked down from the crown of her head to her cheek. “I hoped as much. I prayed as much. You’ll be good for him. Don’t fret over the present. Think in terms of the future. If this love you have for him is true, things will work out. I promise.”

She knew otherwise, but she didn’t want to dampen his optimism. She stood up only to lean down and kiss him softly and lingeringly on the cheek. They didn’t say goodbye, but stared at each other pensively until Lyon came forward to assist him into the house.

It had been prearranged that the crew would drive the van to the bunkhouse, pack their gear, and then guide Les to the Haven in the Hills as he followed in the car he had rented in San Antonio. Andy would come after them in her rental car as soon as she was packed.

She scanned the room quickly, checking to see if she’d forgotten anything. She wouldn’t think about what leaving meant. If she thought about it, she’d die. So she’d wait until later, when she’d have the luxury of wallowing in her misery alone.

Knowing she had postponed her leavetaking too long, she went to the door of the bedroom and opened it. Lyon was standing on the threshold. His face was expressionless. No anger. No victory. No love. As void and empty as she felt on the inside.

“My bags are ready. I was just going down,” she said hastily, thinking that he might have come upstairs to boot her out.

He didn’t say anything, but backed her into the room and closed the door behind him. She took two more steps backward. “Your father? How is he?”

“Extremely tired. I called the doctor to come out and take a look at him. He’s with him now.”

“I hope today wasn’t too strenuous, but …” Her voice trailed off. Why couldn’t she think of anything to say? She certainly didn’t want to increase Lyon’s fury by reminding him that he was the one who had insisted on having the interview this afternoon.

---