“Just like that, Mr. Winslow. Just the way you said it to me.”

He smiled at her, and he suddenly looked very tired. “What makes you so wise, little girl?”

She smiled at him, and she felt an incredible warmth emanating from him. He was a lot like Harry in some ways, and yet he was more, and she realized with a pang of embarrassment that she was attracted to him. It was as though all the senses that had been deadened for years, ever since the rape, had suddenly come alive again.

“What were you thinking just then?”

She flushed pink and shook her head. “Something that had nothing to do with all this … I'm sorry … I'm tired … I haven't slept for a few days.…”

“I'll get you home, so you can get some rest.” He signalled for the check, and when it came he looked at her with a gentle smile, and she felt a longing for the father she had never had, or even known. This was the kind of man she would have wanted Andy Roberts to have been, not Arthur Durning who breezed in and out of her mother's life when it suited him. This man was a great deal less selfish than Harry had wanted her to believe, or insisted on believing himself. He had put a lot of energy into hating this man over the years and Tana knew instinctively now that he had been wrong, very wrong, and she wondered if Harrison was right, if it was too late. “Thank you for talking to me, Tana. Harry is lucky to have you as his friend.”

“I've been lucky to have him.”

He put a twenty dollar bill under the check and looked at her again. “Are you an only child?” He suspected that about her, and she nodded with a smile.

“Yes. And I never knew my father, he died before I was born, in the war.” It was something she had said ten thousand times in her life, but it seemed to have new meaning now. Everything did, and she didn't understand what that meant or why. Something strange was happening to her as she sat with this man, and she wondered if it was just because she was so tired. She let him walk her back to his car, and he surprised her by getting in with her, rather than letting the driver take her home.

“I'll ride with you.”

“You really don't need to do that.”

“I have nothing else to do. I'm here to see Harry, and I think he's better off resting for the next few hours.” She agreed with him and they chatted on the drive across the bridge. He mentioned that he had never been to San Francisco before. He found it an attractive place, but he seemed distracted as they drove along. She assumed he was thinking about his son, but he was actually thinking about her, and he shook her hand when they arrived. “I'll see you at the hospital again. If you need a ride, just call the hotel and I'll send the car for you.” She had mentioned that she'd been taking the bus back and forth and that worried him. She was young, after all, and pretty and anything could have happened to her.

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Winslow.”

“Harrison.” He smiled at her, and he looked exactly like Harry when he smiled, not quite as mischievous, but there was a sparkle there too. “I'll see you soon. Get some rest now!” He waved, and the limousine drove off, as she slowly climbed the stairs, thinking of all he had said. How unfair life was at times. She fell asleep thinking of Harrison … and Harry … and Vietnam … and the woman who had killed herself, and in Tana's dream she had no face, and when she awoke it was dark, and she sat up with a start and couldn't catch her breath in the tiny room. She glanced at the clock and it was nine o'clock, and she wondered how Harry was. She went to the pay phone and called and discovered that the fever was down, he had been awake for a while, and now he was dozing again, but he hadn't gone to bed for the night. They hadn't given him his sleeping medicine yet, and they probably wouldn't for a while, and suddenly, as Tana heard caroling outside, she realized that it was Christmas Eve, and Harry needed her. She showered quickly and decided to dress for him. She wore a pretty white knit dress, high heeled shoes, and put on a red coat and a scarf that she hadn't worn since the winter before in New York, and thought she would never wear here. But somehow it all looked and felt Christmasy, and she thought that might be important to him. She put on some perfume, brushed her hair, and rode back into town on the bus, thinking of his father again. It was ten thirty at night when she arrived at Letterman, and there was a sleepy holiday air about it all. Little trees with blinking lights, plastic Santa Clauses here and there. But no one seemed to be in a particularly holiday mood, there were too many desperately serious things going on, and when she reached his room, she knocked softly and tiptoed in, expecting him to be asleep, and instead, he was lying there, staring at the wall, with tears in his eyes. He started when he saw her, and he didn't even smile.

“I'm dying, aren't I?” She was shocked at his words, at his tone, at the lifeless look in his eyes, and she suddenly frowned and approached the bed.

“Not unless you want to die.” She knew she had to be blunt with him. “It's pretty much up to you.” She stood very close to him, looking into his eyes, and he did not reach for her hand.

“That's a dumb thing to say. It wasn't my idea to get shot in the ass.”

“Sure it was.” She sounded nonchalant and for a moment he looked pissed.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“That you could have gone to school. And you decided to play instead. So you got the short end of the stick. You gambled and you lost.”

“Yeah. Only I didn't lose ten bucks, I lost my legs. Not exactly small stakes.”

“Looks like they're still there to me.” She glanced down at the useless limbs and he almost snarled at her.

“Don't be an ass. What good are they now?”

“You've got them, and you're alive, and there's plenty you can still do. And according to the nurses, you can still get it up,” she had never been so blunt with him and it was a hell of a speech for Christmas Eve, but she knew it was time to start pushing him, especially if he thought he was going to die. “Hell, look at the bright side, you might even get the clap again.”

“You make me sick.” He turned away, and without thinking she grabbed at his arm, and he turned to look at her again.

“Look, dammit, you make me sick. Half the boys in your platoon were killed, and you're alive, so don't lie there whining at what you don't have. Think of what you do. Your life isn't over, unless you want it to be, and I don't want it to be,” tears stung her eyes, “I want you to get off that dead ass of yours, if I have to drag you by the hair for the next ten years to make you get up and live again. Is that clear?” The tears were pouring down her cheeks. “I'm not going to let go of you. Ever! Do you understand that?” And slowly, slowly … she saw a smile dawn in his eyes.

“You're a crazy broad, do you know that, Tan?”

“Yeah, well maybe I am, but you'll find out just how crazy I am until you start making life easier for both of us by doing something with yourself.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and he grinned at her, and for the first time in days, he looked like the Harry she knew.

“You know what it is?”

“What?” She looked confused. It was the most emotional few days of her life and she had never felt so overwrought as she did now.

“It's all that sexual energy you've got pent up, that's what gives you all this oomph to put into everything else. It makes you a real pain in the neck sometimes.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He grinned, and closed his eyes for a minute and then he opened them again. “What are you all dressed up for? Going someplace?”

“Yes. Here. To see you. It's Christmas Eve.” Her eyes softened and she smiled at him. “Welcome back to the human race.”

“I liked what you said before.” He was still smiling and Tana could see that the tides had turned. If he hung on to the will to live, he'd be all right, relatively. That was what the neurosurgeon had said.

“What did I say … ? you mean about booting you in the ass and making something of yourself … it's about time.” She looked pleased.

“No, about getting it up, and getting the clap again.”

“Shit.” She looked at him with total contempt and one of the nurses walked in and they started to laugh, and suddenly, for just a minute it was just like old times, and then Harry's father walked into the room, and they both looked like nervous kids, and the laughter stopped, and Harrison Winslow smiled. He wanted so desperately to make friends with his son, and he already knew how much he liked the girl.

“Don't let me spoil your fun. What was that all about?”

Tana blushed. It was difficult talking to someone as cosmopolitan as he was, but she had talked to him all afternoon, after all.

“Your son was being as rude as he usually is.”

“That's nothing new.” Harrison sat down in one of the room's two chairs, and glanced at them both. “Although you'd think on Christmas Eve, he could make an effort to be a little more polite.”

“Actually, he was talking about the nurses and.…” Harry blushed and began to object, Tana laughed, and suddenly Harry's father was laughing too. There was something very tenuous in the room, and none of them looked totally at ease, but they chatted for half an hour and then Harry began to look tired, and Tana stood up. “I just came to give you a Christmas kiss, I didn't even think you'd be awake.”

“Neither did I.” Harrison Winslow stood up too. “We'll come back tomorrow, Son.” He was watching Harry look at her, and he thought he understood. She was innocent of what Harry felt for her, and for some reason he was keeping it a secret from her, and Harrison couldn't understand why. There was a mystery here which made no sense to him. He looked at his son again. “Do you need anything before we leave?”