I had the impression of awaking psychically, a fraction of a second before the phone sounded. I knew I'd likely been roused by a phantom first ring, unconsciously perceived, but it was tempting to imagine that I hadn't. Anything was possible.
"Mel?"
"Darling, I know it's late for you. I only have a few minutes."
"Where are you? Los Angeles?"
"Los Angeles. Hollywood."
"When on earth can you get away?"
A breeze blew the diaphanous curtains from the window. The wall across the way glowed amber in the lamplight.
"I'm not sure, Mal. Life wants me tomorrow."
"What for?"
"Interview. Photo shoot. The song and dance."
"I'm testing in Rouen tomorrow," I said dully.
"Maybe I can get away next week. Will you have time?"
"I shall make the time. We'll go somewhere. Meet somewhere. We'll see each other."
"That sounds nice."
"We'll suss it out, Mel. Good luck w—"
"I have something to tell you, Mal."
A spasm of fear seized my heart. In a flash I understood it all: She no longer wanted me. She had another man.
"Yes?"
"I'm pregnant."