away, now, tomorrow. I want to take off a couple of weeks ... yes, I know I've got bookings. But there aren't that many. Jason, I'm really tired. Even the makeup man was complaining about the bags under my eyes this morning ... Goddamn it, Jason, I've worked my ass off all summer, booking after Goddamn booking. I. Am. Tired. I'm standing on my nerve ends. My psychiatrist told me I need a rest. Look, Jason, you can scream all you like. Dr. Benjamin will write a letter if necessary ... Don't threaten me, Jason. You know as well as I do that a letter from a psychiatrist will stand up in any court." She held the receiver away from her ear while Jason cursed loudly at the other end. "Are you finished? ... What kind of a deal? ... Oh, no, you're not going to blackmail me. I will not spend the winter in Europe shooting the spring collections. No, I won't do it. Jason, you know I'm involved with Josh. No, I wouldn't consider it and that's final." She sighed and waited out another tirade. "Jason, I'm going, and that's final ... Two weeks, maybe three at the most ... To the mountains of West Virginia, that's where. Look, why don't you give that new girl, Cassie McLaughlin, some of my bookings? ... All right, all right, you make the decisions." Her voice softened. "Jason, I really do appreciate this. I'll bring you back a jug of moonshine. Love you too. See you in three weeks."
Cresta put the receiver back on the cradle and pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. It had been easier than she had thought it would be. Then she quickly called her lawyer, who handled her business affairs, and her answering service, to make sure they would pick up all phone calls while she was gone. She thought briefly of phoning her parents, but changed her mind. They had never approved of her lifestyle, much less her relationship with Josh, and in turn Cresta had little to do with them. She wrote a note for Esther, the twice-a-week maid, and left her three weeks' salary in advance. Then she dashed back into the bedroom to complete Josh's packing and her own. Because of her work, Cresta kept her closet very organized, arranged according to season and mode of dress. Her shoes were lined up in colors as were her blouses, sweaters and lingerie. She managed to keep Josh's wardrobe and chest of drawers in similar order. She finished the packing with time to spare, treated herself to a quick shower, and, after drying off, began packing her toilet articles in a large straw hamper. She started to reach for her bottle of Valiums, hesitated for a minute and dropped them into the hamper. Humming to herself, Cresta carefully made up her face. She parted her bright red lips and sang with gusto, "'I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again.'"
At the rental agency, Josh signed his name to the forms and handed the clerk his American Express card. Since Cresta was coming on the trip, he had rented a much larger Scamper. This one had a complete kitchen, twice as much closet space, and what was called a bedroom. He glanced at his wristwatch, a thin sliver of gold which Cresta had given him the previous Christmas. It was five thirty-five. He was making good time.
Josh was in an exuberant mood as he drove toward the apartment. He had been caught up by Cresta's enthusiasm and, upon reflection, now believed that sharing the trip could only deepen their relationship. He handled the camper with ease, moving steadily through the thinning traffic.
At the corner of Amsterdam Avenue and Eighty-Sixth Street, a blinking neon sign caught his eye.
"Liquor - Liquor - Liquor."
Josh quickly pulled over, double-parked and went inside. After all, it was a holiday of sorts. He would just buy a few bottles of wine ... and perhaps some vodka.
It was ten after six when Josh arrived back at the apartment. Cresta, sitting on a stack of suitcases in the hall, gave him a huge smile. Josh felt a sudden surge of tenderness for her. He knelt in front of her and buried his face in
Cresta put the receiver back on the cradle and pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. It had been easier than she had thought it would be. Then she quickly called her lawyer, who handled her business affairs, and her answering service, to make sure they would pick up all phone calls while she was gone. She thought briefly of phoning her parents, but changed her mind. They had never approved of her lifestyle, much less her relationship with Josh, and in turn Cresta had little to do with them. She wrote a note for Esther, the twice-a-week maid, and left her three weeks' salary in advance. Then she dashed back into the bedroom to complete Josh's packing and her own. Because of her work, Cresta kept her closet very organized, arranged according to season and mode of dress. Her shoes were lined up in colors as were her blouses, sweaters and lingerie. She managed to keep Josh's wardrobe and chest of drawers in similar order. She finished the packing with time to spare, treated herself to a quick shower, and, after drying off, began packing her toilet articles in a large straw hamper. She started to reach for her bottle of Valiums, hesitated for a minute and dropped them into the hamper. Humming to herself, Cresta carefully made up her face. She parted her bright red lips and sang with gusto, "'I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again.'"
At the rental agency, Josh signed his name to the forms and handed the clerk his American Express card. Since Cresta was coming on the trip, he had rented a much larger Scamper. This one had a complete kitchen, twice as much closet space, and what was called a bedroom. He glanced at his wristwatch, a thin sliver of gold which Cresta had given him the previous Christmas. It was five thirty-five. He was making good time.
Josh was in an exuberant mood as he drove toward the apartment. He had been caught up by Cresta's enthusiasm and, upon reflection, now believed that sharing the trip could only deepen their relationship. He handled the camper with ease, moving steadily through the thinning traffic.
At the corner of Amsterdam Avenue and Eighty-Sixth Street, a blinking neon sign caught his eye.
"Liquor - Liquor - Liquor."
Josh quickly pulled over, double-parked and went inside. After all, it was a holiday of sorts. He would just buy a few bottles of wine ... and perhaps some vodka.
It was ten after six when Josh arrived back at the apartment. Cresta, sitting on a stack of suitcases in the hall, gave him a huge smile. Josh felt a sudden surge of tenderness for her. He knelt in front of her and buried his face in
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