Rushing Waters Read Free

looking forward to it. It would give them an excuse to spend a weekend there from time to time.
    After dinner, Ellen went to put more papers and color swatches in her briefcase. George turned the television to CNN before they went to bed, to check on the hurricane again, which was still making its way across the Caribbean toward the East Coast, and he looked worried. But no dire warnings had been issued yet for New York.
    “I wish they didn’t have those damn things there, or that you went to see your mother at some other time of year.” He looked mildly annoyed, and Ellen ignored him. Until the monster hurricane that had hit the city five years before, no one in New York had given the annual hurricanes a second thought, and even now, most people weren’t overly concerned it would happen again. But George didn’t like it anyway and wasn’t nearly as casual as his wife about it. It seemed foolish to him to go to New York in August or September.
    “It’s not going to hit New York,” she said, as they climbed into bed and he kissed her. They didn’t attempt to make love that night, and they hadn’t for a while. She wasn’t ovulating, so they didn’t have to, and it was nice not having to think about it for once, and to just lie next to each other, with no particular purpose in mind. Not making love had become as enjoyable as making love had been in their days before IVF. George was relieved not to have to perform, and he looked relaxed as he turned off the light, and she cuddled up next to him.
    “You can miss me a little while I’m gone,” she whispered in the dark, and he smiled at what she said.
    “I’ll keep it in mind,” he answered, pulled her closer, and a moment later, they both fell asleep, until the alarm woke them at six in the morning for her flight.
    —
    Ellen thought about making love with George as she woke up, but he was out of bed before she was awake enough to do anything about it, and headed for his own bathroom and dressing room, so she threw back the covers and went to hers. It was a sunny day in London, and she was looking forward to the still warm, even hot, Indian summer days in New York. She still missed New York at times. But her life was so different now than it had been when she lived there.
    She dressed in her travel clothes, and had breakfast waiting for him when he came downstairs. She had to leave in half an hour, and one of her assistants had arranged for a car and driver to take her to the airport for her ten o’clock flight. She was taking the large A380 Airbus, which she liked for its spaciousness and smooth flight, despite the hassle of competing with five hundred passengers trying to retrieve their luggage at the other end. She was due to arrive in New York at one P.M. local time, and after clearing customs and getting into the city, she hoped to be at her mother’s apartment by three or three-thirty, before her mother got home from the office. It would give Ellen time to unpack and settle in. And they would have plenty of time to talk over dinner and catch up in her mother’s very comfortable apartment. Ellen loved staying there instead of a hotel, and she knew her mother liked it too. Her mother was resigned about her only child living so far away in England for the past decade, and she was busy with her work. Being with her mother always made Ellen regret that she didn’t go to New York more often.
    When the car came, George walked her down the front steps, carrying her briefcase, and handed it to her with a serious expression. “Stay out of the way of the hurricane.” He kissed her goodbye and looked sad for a moment as their eyes met.
    “Have fun this weekend,” Ellen said, and kissed him again.
    “Not easily done without you,” he said with a smile, then got into his own car. Her driver put her suitcase in the trunk and waited for her to get in. She waved at George as he drove away, and they headed to Heathrow in the morning traffic.
    She checked in at the