The Last Don - Mario Puzo [176]
When they dropped the child off at the hospital, Bethany took Cross by the hand for a moment. “You’re beautiful,” she said, but when Cross tried to kiss her good-bye, she turned her head away. Then she ran.
Driving back to Malibu, Athena said excitedly, “She responded to you, that’s a very good sign.”
“Because I’m beautiful,” Cross said dryly.
“No,” Athena said, “because you can eat bugs. I’m at least as beautiful as you are and she hates me . . .” She was smiling joyfully, and as always her beauty made Cross dizzy and alarmed him.
“She thinks you’re like her,” Athena said. “She thinks you’re autistic.”
Cross laughed, he enjoyed the idea. “She may be right,” he said. “Maybe you should put me in the hospital with her.”
“No,” Athena said, smiling. “Then I couldn’t have your body whenever I wanted it. Besides, I’m going to take her out after I finish Messalina.”
When they arrived at her Malibu house, Cross went in with her. They had planned for him to spend the night. By this time he had learned to read Athena: The more vivacious she acted, the more disturbed she was.
“If you’re upset, I can go back to Vegas,” he said.
Now she looked sad. Cross wondered how he loved her most, when she was naturally exuberant, when she was stern and serious, or when she was melancholy. Her face changed so magically in its beauty that he always found his feelings matching hers.
She said to him fondly, “You’ve had a terrible day and you shall have your reward.” There was a mocking tone to her voice, but he understood it was a mockery of her own beauty, she knew her magic was false.
“I didn’t have a terrible day,” Cross said. And it was true. The joy he felt that day, with the three of them alone by the lake in the vast forest, reminded him of his childhood.
“You love ants on your pastry . . .” Athena said sadly.
“They weren’t bad,” Cross said. “Can Bethany get better?”
“I don’t know but I’ll keep searching until I find out,” Athena said. “I have a long weekend coming up when they won’t need to shoot Messalina. I’m going to fly to France with Bethany. There’s a great doctor in Paris and I’m going to take her for another evaluation.”
“What if he says there’s no hope?” Cross said.
“Maybe I won’t believe him. It doesn’t matter,” Athena said. “I love her. I’ll take care of her.”
“Forever and ever?” Cross asked.
“Yes,” Athena said. Then she clapped her hands together, her green eyes shining. “Meanwhile, let’s have some fun. Let’s take care of ourselves. We’ll go upstairs and shower and jump into bed. We’ll make mad passionate love for hours. Then I’ll cook us a midnight supper.”
For Cross, he was a child again waking up with a day of pleasure before him, the breakfast his mother prepared, the playing of games with his friends, the hunting trips with his father, then supper with his family, Claudia, Nalene, and Pippi. The card games afterward. It was that innocent a feeling. Before him was making love to Athena in the twilight, watching the sun disappear over the Pacific from the balcony, the sky painted with marvelous reds and pinks, the touch of her warm flesh and silky skin. Her beautiful face and lips to kiss. He smiled and led her up the stairs.
The phone in the bedroom rang, and Athena ran up ahead of Cross to answer it. She covered the mouthpiece and in a startled voice said, “It’s for you. A man named Giorgio.” He had never received a phone call at her house before.
This could only be trouble, Cross thought, and so he did something he never thought he was capable of doing. He shook his head.
Athena said into the phone, “He’s not here. . . . Yes, I’ll tell him to call you when he comes.” She hung up the phone and asked, “Who’s Giorgio?”
“Just a relative,” Cross said. He was stunned by what he had done, and why: because he could not give up a night with Athena. That was a grievous crime. And then he wondered how Giorgio knew he would be here and what Giorgio wanted. It