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Chyna shrugged “It’s bad”
Frowning, Laura said, “You drea bad sex? Listen, Chyna, you don’t have to dreauys who can provide all the bad sex you want”
“Ho, ho I ”
“Sex is threatening?”
“Because I’ht — and I’ fro forfrooing to be like dying”
“Who’s the man?”
“Different men”
“So out with?”
Chyna had told Laura a great deal about her mother She had never told anyone else “Yeah Theot away from them in real life They never touched me And they never touch me in the dreams But there’s always a threat, always a possibility…”
“So these aren’t just dreams They’re memories too”
“I wish they were just dreams”
“What about when you’re awake?” Laura asked
“What do you mean?”
“Do you just turn all waro when a man makes love to you…or is the past always there?”
“What is this — analysis at eighty miles an hour?”
“Dodging the question?”
“You’re a snoop”
“It’s called friendship”
“It’s called snoopery”
“Dodging the question?”
Chyna sighed “All right I like being with a man I’h I’ to explode into a new universe, but I’ve been fully satisfied, always had fun”
“Fully?”
“Fully”
Chyna had never actually been with a man until she enty-one; and her intientle, kind, and decentOne affair had lasted eleven months, the other thirteen, and neither lover had left her a single troubling memory Nevertheless, neither man had helped her banish the vicious dreaue her periodically, and she’d been unable to achieve an emotional bond equal to the physical intiive her body, but even for love, she could not entirely give her mind and heart She was afraid to commit herself, to trust without reservation No one in her life, with the possible exception of Laura Templeton — stunt driver and dream flier — had ever earned total trust
Wind shrieked along the sides of the car In the flickering shadows and fiery light, the long incline ahead of the to be launched into space when they reached the top, vaulting across a dozen burning buses while a stadium full of thrill-seekers cheered
“What if a tire blows?” Chyna asked
“The tires won’t blow,” Laura said confidently
“What if one does?”
Wrenching her face into an exaggerated, deirl jelly in a can They won’t even be able to separate the remains into two distinct bodies A total amorphous mess They won’t even need coffins for us They’ll just pour our rerave, and the headstone will read: Laura Chyna Templeton Shepherd Only a Cuisinart Would Have Been More Thorough”
Chyna had hair so dark that it was virtually black, and Laura was a blue-eyed blonde, yet they were enough alike to be sisters Both were five feet four and slender; they wore the sah cheekbones and delicate features Chyna had always felt that her mouth was too wide, but Laura, whose mouth was as wide as Chyna’s, said it wasn’t wide at all butsmile
As Laura’s love of speed proved, however, they were in some ways profoundly different people The differences, perhaps more than the similarities, hat drew them to each other
“You think your mom and dad will like me?” Chyna asked
“I thought you orried about a blown tire”
“I’m a multichannel worrier Will they like me?”
“Of course they’ll like you You knohat I worry about?” Laura asked as they raced toward the top of the incline
“Apparently, not death”
“You I worry about you,” Laura said She glanced at Chyna, and her expression was uncharacteristically serious
“I can take care of myself,” Chyna assured her
“I don’t doubt that I know you too well to doubt that But life isn’t just about taking care of yourself, keeping your head down, getting through”
“Laura Teirl philosopher”
“Life is about living”
“Deep,” Chyna said sarcastically
“Deeper than you think”
The Mustang crested the long hill, and there were no burning buses or cheering multitudes, but ahead of the well below the posted limit Laura cut their speed by more than half, and they pulled behind the other car Even in the fading light, Chyna could see that the round-shouldered driver was a white-haired, elderly man
They were in a no-passing zone The road rose and fell, turned left and right, rose again, and they could not see far ahead
Laura switched on the Mustang headlights, hoping to encourage the driver of the Buick either to increase his speed or to ease over where the shoulder widened to let them pass
“Take your own advice — relax, kiddo,” Chyna said
“Hate to be late for dinner”
“Fro you’ve said about her, I don’t think your ers”
“Mom’s the best”
“So relax,” Chyna said
“But she has this disappointed look she gives you that’s worse than wire coat hangers Most people don’t know this, but Moo, the Pentagon sent her off to Moscow so she could give the whole das just collapsed with remorse”
Ahead of them, the old man in the Buick checked his rearview mirror
The white hair in the headlight beaestion of his eyes reflected in the endered in Chyna a powerful sense of déjà vu For a moment, she didn’t understand why a chill came over her — but then she was cast back intried unsuccessfully to forget: another twilight, nineteen years ago, a lonely Florida highway
“Oh, Jesus,” she said