Chapter 196


    Oh, baby.


    I kiss her temple, longing to take her hurt away. “Good surprise?” I ask, suddenly nervous.


    “Very good surprise. Thank you, you darling man.” She raises her lips to mine, and I give her a quick,


    chaste peck, suitable for family viewing.


    Ana is not her usual self during dinner—she’s subdued, but I understand; she’s worried about her


    father. She follows the conversations,ughs in the right ces, and I think she’s buoyed by the


    merriment of our family and friends. But deep down my girl is aching: she’s pale, she’s chewing her lip,


    and asionally, she’s distracted—probably lost in her dark thoughts.


    I see her pain and I’m powerless to help.


    It’s frustrating.


    She picks at her food, but I don’t nag her. I’m just grateful she ate a hearty lunch.


    Elliot and José are in top form. I had no idea the photographer had such a sharp sense of humor. Kate,


    too, has noticed Ana’s state; she’s solicitous, and during a hushed conversation I watch themughing.


    Ana shows off her new bracelet and Kate makes the right appreciative noises. My feelings toward


    Kavanagh thaw a little more.


    Make my wifeugh. She needs the distraction right now.


    Finally, a magnificent chocte cake with twenty-two candles aze is delivered by two waitstaff. Elliot


    starts a spirited rendition of “Happy Birthday,” and we all join in. Ana’s smile is wistful.


    “Make a wish,” I whisper to her, and she screws her eyes shut like a child might, then blows out every


    candle in one breath. She looks up at me, anxiously, and I know she’s thinking of Ray. “He’ll be fine,


    Ana. Just give him time.”


    Bidding good night to all our guests, we wander up to our hotel room. I think the night has been a


    sess. Ana seems more content, and I’m surprised, given the circumstances, how much I enjoyed


    everyone’spany. I close the door to our suite and lean against it as Ana turns to face me. “Alone at


    She must be exhausted.


    She steps toward me and runs her fingers over mypels. “Thank you for a wonderful birthday. You


    really are the most thoughtful, considerate, generous husband.”


    “My pleasure.”


    “Yes, your pleasure. Let’s do something about that,” she whispers, and raises her lips to mine.


    Sunday, September 11, 2011


    Ana is curled up on the sofa in our suite, reading a manuscript that she’s had printed out at the hotel.


    She’s calm and focused, that little v forming between her brows as she scribbles her blue-penciled


    hieroglyphics in the margins. asionally she chews her plump lower lip, and I don’t know if it’s a


    judgment on what she’s reading or if she’s immersed in the narrative, but it has the usual effect on my


    body.


    I want to bite that lip.


    Smiling to myself, I remember my surprise wake-up call this morning. Ana is bing more and more


    proactive when ites to sex, but as the beneficiary of her passion, I’m notining. I think


    seeing her nearest and dearest at this difficult time has been therapeutic.


    Having said that, it’s been an emotional morning. After a convivial breakfast with our family and friends,


    we said good-bye to everyone, except Ca and Bob. My parents have driven back to Seattle; Stephan


    has flown Elliot, Mia, Kate, and Ethan back home in Charlie Tango. Ryan, who’s still in Seattle, will pick


    them up at Boeing Field.


    After everyone left, Ca, Ana, and I visited Ray. Well, Ca and Ana did; I gave them some privacy


    and worked in the waiting room until it was time to take Ca and Bob to the airport. We delivered them


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    into the safe hands of First Officer Beighley and her copilot, who were standing by with the Gulfstream.


    Ana said a tearful farewell to her mother, and now we’re back in our suite, cooling our heels after a light


    lunch. I think Ana is reading to distract herself from thinking about Ray.


    I’d just like to go home.


    But I guess that depends on Ray’s recovery.


    I hope he wakes shortly, and we can make ns to move him to Seattle and return to Esc. I don’t


    mention this to Ana, though—I don’t want to add to her worries.


    I’ve had my fill of reading, so to pass the time, I’ve started assembling a coge of photographs of my


    wife to use as a screensaver on myptop and phone. I have so many photographs of her from our


    honeymoon—and in all of them, Ana is stunning. I’m delighted to have captured her in so many


    different moods:ughing, pensive, pouting, amused, rxed, happy, and in some, she’s scowling at


    me. Those are the photos that make me grin.


    I’m reminded of the shock at seeing her image,rge and lovely, at José Rodriguez’s exhibition, and


    our conversation afterward.


    I want you that rxed with me.


    I nce over at her again. Here she is. Rxed. Absorbed in her work.


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