When Catherine finally went back to work, the men at the agency were overjoyed to see her. For the first three days she did almost nothing but go over campaigns and layouts for new accounts and catch up on old accounts. She worked from early in the morning until late in the evening, trying to make up for the time she had lost, badgering copywriters and sketch artists and reassuring nervous clients. She was very good at her job and she loved it.
Larry would be waiting for Catherine when she returned to the apartment at night. In the beginning she had asked what he did while she was gone, but his answers were always vague and she finally stopped asking him. He had put up a wall, and she did not know how to breach it. He took offense at almost everything Catherine said, and there were constant quarrels over nothing. Occasionally they would dine with Fraser and she went out of her way to make those evenings pleasant and gay so that Fraser would not think there was anything wrong.
But Catherine had to face the fact that something was very wrong. She felt that it was partly her failure. She still loved Larry. She loved the look of him and the feel of him and the memory of him, but she knew that if he went on this way, it would destroy them both.
She was having lunch with William Fraser.
"How's Larry?" he asked.
The automatic Pavlovian response of "fine" started to come to her lips and she stopped. "He needs a job," Catherine said bluntly.
Fraser leaned back and nodded. "Is he getting restless about not working?"
She hesitated, not wanting to lie. "He doesn't want to do just anything," she said carefully. "It would have to be the right thing."
Fraser studied her, trying to assess the meaning that lay behind her words.
"How would he like to be a pilot?"
"He doesn't want to go back into the Service again."
"I was thinking about one of the airlines. I have a friend who runs Pan Am. They'd be lucky to get someone with Larry's experience."
Catherine sat there thinking about it, trying to put herself in Larry's mind. He loved flying more than anything in the world. It would be a good job, doing what he loved to do. "It--it sounds wonderful," she said cautiously. "Do you really think you could get it for him, Bill?"
"I'll give it a try," he said. "Why don't you sound Larry out first and see how he feels about it?"
"I will." Catherine took his hand in hers gratefully. "Thanks so much."
"For what?" Fraser asked lightly.
"For always being there when I need you."
He put his hand over hers. "It goes with the territory."
When Catherine told Larry about Bill Fraser's suggestion that night, he said, "That's the best idea I've heard since I came home," and two days later, he had an appointment to see Carl Eastman at Pan Am headquarters in Manhattan. Catherine pressed Larry's suit for him, selected a shirt and tie and shined his shoes until she could see her image in them. "I'll call you as soon as I can and let you know how it went." He kissed her, smiled that quick boyish grin of his and left.
In many ways Larry was like a small boy, Catherine thought. He could be petulant and quick-tempered and surly, but he was also loving and generous.
"My luck," sighed Catherine. "I have to be the only perfect person in the whole universe."
She had a busy schedule ahead of her, but she was unable to think of anything but Larry and his meeting. It was more than just a job. She had a feeling that her whole marriage hinged on what was going to happen.
It was going to be the longest day of her life.
Pan American headquarters was in a modern building at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-third Street. Carl Eastman's office was large and comfortably furnished, and he obviously held a position of importance.
"Come in and sit down," he greeted Larry as Larry entered the office.
Eastman was about thirty-five, a trim, lantern-jawed man with piercing hazel eyes that missed nothing. He motioned Larry to a couch, then sat on a chair across from him.
"Coffee?"
"No thanks," Larry said.
"I understand you'd like to work for us."
"If there's an opening."