‘If she had this,’ the guard said, ‘the community would have to put in speed bumps the size of garbage dumpsters to slow her down.’
‘How’s Emmy?’
Although Mickey was not wearing a raincoat, he seemed to be oblivious of the downpour, as though Del so completely commanded his awareness that he simply didn’t have the capacity also to notice the inclement weather – or anything else, for that matter. Tommy knew exactly how the poor guy felt.
‘Emmy’s great,’ Mickey said. ‘She’s in total remission.’
‘That’s wonderful, Mickey.’
‘The doctors can’t believe it.’
‘I told you not to lose hope, didn’t I?’
‘If the tests keep coming back clear as they do now, they’ll probably release her from the hospital in about three days. I just pray to God she’ll never never have to go back.’
‘She’ll be fine, Mickey.’
‘It’s so nice of you to go visit her the way you do.’
‘Oh, I adore her, Mickey. She’s an absolute angel. It’s no trouble at all.’
‘She thinks the world of you, Miss Payne. She sure loved that storybook you brought her.’ Looking past Del, he said, ‘Hi, Scootie.’
The Labrador chuffed.
Del said, ‘Mickey, this is my friend, Tommy Tofu.’ Mickey said, ‘Glad to meet you, Mr. Tofu.’
Peering between Del and the dog, Tommy said, ‘Like-wise. You’re getting soaked, Mickey.’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes, you are,’ Del said. ‘You better get back inside, dear. Tell Emmy I’ll see her the day after tomorrow. And after she’s been out of the hospital a while and put on a little weight, maybe she can come to my studio on the peninsula and sit for me. I’d like to paint her portrait.’
‘Oh, she’d love that, Miss Payne. Getting her portrait done – she’d feel like a princess.’
Dripping, Mickey returned to the gatehouse, and Del put up the car window.
In front of them, a massive iron gate ornamented with gilded balls rolled out of the way, admitting them to the private community.
As Del piloted the Ferrari through the open gate, Tommy said, ‘Who’s Emmy?’
‘His little girl. Eight years old, cute as a button.’
‘She’s in total remission from what?’
‘Cancer.’
‘That’s tough – eight years old and hit with cancer.
‘She’ll be absolutely fine now. Won’t she Scootie–wootums?’
The Labrador leaned over to nuzzle and lick her neck, and she giggled.
They cruised along winding streets lined with enormous houses behind deep and lushly landscaped grounds.
‘I’m sorry we have to wake your mother at three-thirty in the morning,’ Tommy said.
‘You’re just so delightfully thoughtful and polite,’ Del said, reaching over to pinch his cheek. ‘But don’t worry yourself. Mom will be awake and busy.’
‘She’s a night person, huh?’
‘She’s an around-the-clock person. She never sleeps.’ ‘Never?’
‘Well, not since Tonopah,’ Del amended. ‘Tonopah, Nevada?’
‘Actually, outside Tonopah, close Mud Lake.’
‘Mud Lake? What’re you talking about?’ ‘That was twenty-eight years ago.’ ‘Twenty-eight years?’ ‘Approximately. I’m twenty-seven.’
‘Your mother hasn’t slept since before you were born?’
‘She was twenty-three then.’
‘Everyone has to sleep,’ Tommy said.
‘Not everyone. You’ve been up all night. Are you sleepy?’
‘I was earlier, but-’
‘Here we are,’ she said happily, turning a corner and driving into a cul-de-sac.
At the end of the short street stood a grove of palm trees and behind them a stone estate wall illuminated by landscape lighting so subtle that Tommy couldn’t always discern the source.
Set in the wall was a tall bronze gate with two-inch- square pickets. In an eighteen-inch-deep cast header across the top of the gate were what appeared to be hieroglyphics. The massive portal made the main gate to the community look, by comparison, like a tinfoil construction.
Del stopped, put down her window, and pushed a call button on an intercom box set in a stone post.
From the speaker came a solemn male voice with a British accent. ‘Who’s calling, please?’
‘It’s me, Mummingford.’
‘Good morning, Miss Payne,’ said the voice on the intercom.
The gate rolled open ponderously.
‘Mummingford?’ Tommy asked.
As she put up her window, Del said, ‘The butler.’
‘He’s on duty at this hour?’
‘Someone’s always on duty. Mummingford prefers the night shift, actually, because it’s usually more interesting here,’ Del explained as she drove forward through the gateway arch.