It was a long ride to the hotel.
Up in her room, Guy sat her down on the bed and gently stroked the hair off her face. Do you have any pain killers?
Therestheres some aspirin in the bathroom. She started to rise to her feet. I can get it.
No. You stay right where you are. He went into the bathroom, came back out with a glass of water and the bottle of aspirin. Even through her cloud of pain, she was intensely aware of him watching her, studying her as she swallowed the tablets. Yet she found his nearness strangely reassuring. When he turned and crossed the room, the sudden distance between them left her feeling abandoned.
She watched him rummage around in the tiny refrigerator. What are you looking for?
Found it. He came back with a cocktail bottle of whiskey, which he uncapped and handed to her. Liquid anesthesia. Its an old-fashioned remedy, but it works.
I
dont like whiskey.
You dont have to like it. By definition, medicines not supposed to taste good.
She managed a gulp. It burned all the way down her throat. Thanks, she muttered. I think.
He began to walk a slow circle, surveying the plush furnishings, the expansive view. Sliding glass doors opened onto a balcony. From the Chaophya River flowing just below came the growl of motorboats plying the waters. He wandered over to the nightstand, picked up a rambutan from the complimentary fruit basket and peeled off the prickly shell. Nice room, he said, thoughtfully chewing the fruit. Sure beats my divethe Liberty Hotel. What do you do for a living, anyway?
She took another sip of whiskey and coughed. Im a pilot.
Just like your old man?
Not exactly. I fly for the paycheck, not the excitement. Not that the pays great. No money in flying cargo.
Cant be too bad if youre staying here.
Im not paying for this.
His eyebrows shot up. Who is?
My mother.
Generous of her.
His note of cynicism irritated her. What right did he have to insult her? Here he was, this battered vagabond, eating her fruit, enjoying her view. The tuk-tuk ride had tossed his hair in all directions, and his bruised eye was swollen practically shut. Why was she even putting up with this jerk?
He was watching her with curiosity. So what else is Mama paying for? he asked.
She looked him hard in the eye. Her own funeral arrangements, she said, and was satisfied to see his smirk instantly vanish.
What do you mean? Is your mother dead?
No, but shes dying. Willy gazed out the window at the lantern lights along the rivers edge. For a moment they seemed to dance like fireflies in a watery haze. She swallowed; the lights came back into focus. God, she sighed, wearily running her fingers through her hair. What the hell am I doing here?
I take it this isnt a vacation.
You got that right.
What is it, then?
A wild-goose chase. She swallowed the rest of the whiskey and set the tiny bottle down on the nightstand. But its Moms last wish. And youre always supposed to grant people their dying wish. She looked at Guy. Arent you?
He sank into a chair, his gaze locked on her face. You told me before that you were here on family business. Does it have to do with your father?
She nodded.
And thats why you saw Kistner today?
We were hopingI was hopingthat hed be able to fill us in about what happened to Dad.
Why go to Kistner? Casualty resolution isnt his job.
But Military Intelligence is. In 1970, Kistner was stationed in Laos. He was the one who commissioned my fathers last flight. And after the plane went down, he directed the search. What there was of a search.
And did Kistner tell you anything new?
Only what I expected to hear. That after twenty years, theres no point pursuing the matter. That my fathers dead. And theres no way to recover his remains.
It mustve been tough hearing that. Knowing youve come all this way for nothing.
Itll be hard on my mother.
And not on you?
Not really. She rose from the bed and wandered out onto the balcony, where she stared down at the water. You see, I dont give a damn about my father.
The night was heavy with the smells of the river. She knew Guy was watching her; she could feel his gaze on her back, could imagine the shocked expression on his face. Of course, he would be shocked; it was appalling, what shed just said. But it was also the truth.
She sensed, more than heard, his approach. He came up beside her and leaned against the railing. The glow of the river lanterns threw his face into shadow.
She stared down at the shimmering water. You dont know what its like to be the daughter of a legend. All my life, people have told me how brave he was, what a hero he was. God, he must have loved the glory.
A lot of men do.
And a lot of women suffer for it.
Did your mother suffer?
She looked up at the sky. My mother She shook her head and laughed. Let me tell you about my mother. She was a nightclub singer. All the best New York clubs. I went through her scrapbook, and I remember some reviewer wrote, Her voice spins a web that will trap any audience in its magic. She was headed for the moon. Then she got married. She went from star billing to aa footnote in some mans life. We lived in Vientiane for a few years. I remember what a trouper she was. She wanted so badly to go home, but there she was, scraping the store shelves for decent groceries. Laughing off the hand grenades. Dad got the glory. But shes the one who raised me. Willy looked