can’t even sit down in a restaurant without Fraser’s permission. Well, I’m sick of having
him shoved down my throat every day.” It was Larry’s tone that shook Catherine even
more than what he was saying. It was so filled with frustration and impotence that she
realized for the first time how tormented he must be. And why not? He had come back
from four years of fighting to find his wife in partnership with her former lover. And to
make it worse, he himself had not even been able to get a job without the help of Fraser.
As she looked at Larry, Catherine knew that this was a turning point in their
marriage. If she stayed with him, he would have to come first. Before her job, before
everything. For the first time Catherine felt that she really understood Larry.
As though reading her mind Larry said contritely, “I’m sorry I acted like a shit-heel
this evening. But when we couldn’t get a table until you mentioned Fraser’s magic name, I
—I’d suddenly had it up to here.”
“I’m sorry, Larry,” Catherine said, “I’ll never do that to you again.”
And they were in each other’s arms, and Larry said, “Please don’t ever leave me,
Cathy,” and Catherine thought of how close she had come to it, and she held him tighter
and said, “I won’t leave you, darling, ever.”
Larry’s first assignment as a navigator was on Flight 147 from Washington to Paris.
He stayed over in Paris for forty-eight hours after each flight, then returned home for three
days before he flew out again.
One morning Larry called Catherine at her office, his voice excited. “Hey, I’ve got a
great restaurant for us. Can you get away for lunch?”
Catherine looked at the pile of layouts that had to be finished and approved before
noon. “Sure,” she said, recklessly.
“I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“You’re not leaving me!” Lucia, her assistant, wailed. “Stuyvesant will have kittens if
we don’t get this campaign to him today.”
“It will have to wait,” Catherine said. “I’m going to have lunch with my husband.”
Lucia shrugged. “I don’t blame you. If you ever get tired of him, will you let me
know?”
Catherine grinned. “You’ll be too old.”
Larry picked Catherine up in front of the office, and she got into the car.
“Did I screw up your day for you?” he asked mischievously.
“Of course not.”
He laughed. “All those executive types are going to have a stroke.”
Larry headed the car toward the airport.
“How far is the restaurant?” Catherine asked. She had five appointments in the
afternoon, beginning at two o’clock.