The party finished at midnight. Molly had gotten in her share of dancing, even getting in one or two with Freddie, with Ruth's encouragement, "What's the point of working with Freddie Prinze if you can't dance with him?" Oh if you only knew, Molly thought to herself.

Everyone said goodnight and Freddie and Molly said their thank-you's.

"I'm sorry Carlito couldn't come," Ruth told them earnestly.

"That's okay," Freddie told her with a smile, "Carlito doesn't like crowds." Over Ruth's objections he and Molly caught a cab back to the hotel. The cabdriver recognized Freddie, of course, but didn't insist on the Chico persona.

"You do a good show," he said, "real people, real working stiffs. People like me appreciate that." Freddie thanked the driver and Molly hoped he believed him, at least a little. The driver refused payment, but Freddie wrote him a note that would allow him backstage at the studio if he were ever in L.A.

When they got upstairs to the suite Molly turned and announced, "See I told you it would be okay. You had a good time today, admit it."

"Oh all right, yeah. You know me too well, don't you? If you ever leave I'll have to put a contract out."

Molly went into her room and changed into an royal blue silk nightgown. Freddie whistled when he appeared in the door. "That color looks beautiful on you. Mind if I give you a big hug?"

She smiled. "Hugs are always allowed."

He stepped up and lifted her off the floor. "Sorry I was such a pain in the ass."

"Apology accepted. Now put me down so I can get some sleep."

He followed her into bed after he got undressed. "Mmm this feels nice," he told her as he pulled her close. "Warm silk, warm skin. and you smell so good." He kissed her shoulder.

"I really am tired..."

"That's okay, Besita. I'm not horny all the time." He cuddled her against him in the way that she loved, and she rested her face in his neck the way that he loved.

"You know Carlito," Molly murmured sleepily, "I think Freddie is missing out!"

Freddie laughed and shot back, "Let him sleep in his own room."


Midway through the next day's events Ruth came to Molly saying she had a phone call from L.A. "Ah, Jimmy checking up, she thought. But when she got the phone it was Joey Attardo, one of the bartenders from the Blue Parrot. He sounded like shit.

"Joey, what's up? You know this is a working weekend."

"Yeah, but I need to tell you, I need to," Joey stuttered, and then he broke into tears.

"What, Joey, what's going on?"

"Wendy," he said unsteadily, "a car accident. Some drunk broadsided her. Broad daylight."

The blood rushed from Molly's head, and she had to sit down on the floor. "And!?"

"And they don't know. Internal injuries, head injuries, it looks really bad. I figured you needed to know. Komack gave me the number. Can you come back home?"

She didn't even think before answering. "I'll be on the next plane."

"But your work?"

"Fuck work. I'll be there. I'll call you. What hospital?"

"Good Samaritan."

"Fine. I'll be there." Molly tracked down Ruth in a conference room. "Honey I have to go back to L.A. Now I know you're just sixteen but I wanna ask you to do a forty-year old's job, okay?"

Ruth nodded uncertainly.

"Okay, now there's no need for Freddie to leave with me. But I need someone to keep track of the itinerary, which is yours so it shouldn't be a problem. I want to ask you to make sure he gets going on time, make sure he stays on track. Can you do that?"

"Well I think so."

"Okay. Now I know your conference ends tonight but Freddie has a talk show appearance at WB"L tomorrow. I could cancel it from L" but if you could get him there, and then get him to the airport, it would make things easier. Can you do that?"

She nodded firmly. "Sure. Don't worry, Molly, I'll take care of it. Is everything okay?"

"No it's not."

"What about Carlito?" Ruth asked seriously.

"Carlito is on his own."


Molly had Ruth pull Freddie out of his meet-and-greet session to meet her in the back of the hall.

"What's up?"

"I gotta go home. Wendy's been in an accident. A bad one. They don't know..." she choked on the words..."they don't know if she's gonna be okay. I gotta go, Freddie, she's my best friend." He didn't question it. "Ruth and her people will take care of things here, she's gonna get you to that TV appearance tomorrow and get your ass on the plane."

"Are you going back to get your stuff?"

"No, today is come-as-you-are. Pack up my stuff and bring it with you, okay? I'll call you at the hotel tomorrow if I can. You know where the spare key to my place is, top right drawer of my desk. You can wait for me there if you want."

"Where is she?"

"Good Samaritan. But don't come there, you can't." She added urgently, "We don't need a mob scene. Okay? Promise me."

"Okay, I promise. I'll be at your place. But are you gonna be okay?"

"I don't know… I just have to go. I'll call you if I can."

She wanted more than anything for him to hold her and tell her it would be okay, but there were too many people around. He picked up her hand and kissed it. "I'll talk to you later. Vaya con dios, querida." She left him with a desperate look and raced to the place where Ruth said the car would be waiting.


Molly explained at the airport the nature of the emergency, and flashed her NBC, Komack and Chico cards. They got her on the next flight out. For uncounted hours she stared fixedly out the window, wishing she knew how to pray, wishing she believed in something other than the real world. She grabbed a cab to the hospital from LAX. Joey was in the waiting room of intensive care.

"What?" she asked him.

"They still don't know. She was in surgery for seven hours. They think they fixed most of the internal stuff but her head injury is scary. They have to make sure her brain doesn't swell."

"Shit, oh shit. Can I see her?"

He shook his head. "Family only."

"She doesn't have any family. I'm her only family."

"I know. But they won't budge."

"We'll see about that."

She marched to the nurse's desk. "My name is Molly O'Rourke and I work for Komack Productions. We produce Chico and the Man, Sanford and Son, and Welcome Back Kotter. My boss will be totally displeased that I left Freddie Prinze on his own at a conference in Baltimore to fly all the way back to L.A. and be told I cannot see my best friend Wendy Maginty. My best friend."

"Look, Miss O'Rourke," the nurse told her, "I sympathize but I can't do it."

"What will it take? Autographs? Backstage pass? I am begging you to let me see my best friend who might not outlive your damn rules." She was in a panic. "God, please let me see her, I won't tell anyone."

Molly's agitation seemed to get to the nurse. "Okay, but just for a couple of minutes. She has been fading in and out, so even if she does seem awake she may not focus." Molly nodded readily to all of this and followed the nurse into the secluded room.

Wendy was swathed in bandages and bristling with tubes. Half her head was wrapped in gauze, covering most of her beautiful face. Molly stood at the bedside, reached for her hand.

"Wen? Wen, I came right away. Can you believe I left Carlito in the care of a sixteen year old fan club president? She seems okay though, and Freddie was pretty upset when I told him about you. You scare him, you know." She bent to press Wendy's hand to her cheek. "Wen, you can't do this to me. Yeah, once again it's all about me isn't it? Wendy, Freddie isn't strong enough to hold me up if I lose you, he's too young to understand what it means. I need you, we've always been there for each other. You can't walk on me, you selfish bitch. Drunk driver, big deal. You're better than that." Her friend moaned and the one visible eye opened. There was no flicker of recognition. "Wendy if you know who I am, squeeze my hand, okay?" Nothing. Molly was sure she heard and understood her, but there was no recognition at all. The nurse stepped forward. "Miss O'Rourke, please. I'm risking my job here. We have your phone number and will keep you informed." She let the nurse lead her out of the room.

Molly spent the that night and most of the next day in the waiting room, not permitted to see Wendy again. Her vital signs were improving, she was told, but brain function was still a question mark. She managed to remember to call Freddie at the hotel before he left for the TV interview.


"Freddie? It's me."

"Where are you?''

"At Good Samaritan. She's alive, but not much more."

"Have you gone home at all?"

"Hell no. I wouldn't have slept if I did. I'm just… waiting. For one thing or another."

"Why don't we cancel the interview and I'll come home early."

"A couple hours early? No. Do what we planned, and come back, and meet me at my place. I'll be home sometime tonight, I swear."


Endless hours later Joey came back. "Molly, honey, you gotta go home for a while. You're not helping Wendy by making yourself sick, and what happens will happen whether or not you're here. You got somebody waiting for you."

"She told you about Freddie and me?"

"Yeah. After that fight at the bar she told me. You think I'm gonna call the press or something? Wendy said that Mr. TV Star treats you right, that you love him and he seems to love you. She thinks he's pretty okay, and is happy you found someone like that no matter how young he is. Go home, let him take care of you for a while. I'll call if there's any change." He kissed her goodbye and put her in a cab.


It was late by the time Molly got home; the place looked unfamiliar to her. She rode the elevator up in a daze. She couldn't remember when she last slept; everything felt like she was seeing it through some drug induced haze. She went in and locked the door behind her. Coffee. She smelled coffee. Who had made coffee, she wondered. Then she saw Freddie, dozing in the big armchair in the living room. Her empty luggage was stacked in a corner. He must have unpacked for her. She walked quietly but he jumped from sleep as if shot from a cannon. He didn't say anything, just stood and looked at her with those bottomless liquid brown eyes.

"She's still alive," she told him dully. "They fixed most of the broken stuff inside but her head, her head is messed up bad." She sat on the sofa and he sat down next to her. He listened, as he always did. "Have you ever had a best friend?" she asked him.

"When I was a kid in New York, in school."

"You know how you meet someone, and in no time you decide they were a part of you that had been missing, but you didn't know it until they were there? That's what I mean." She was staring ahead into space, and didn't see the expression on his face, that he was hearing her describe what she meant to him.

"I know exactly what you mean. How long have you and Wendy been together?"

"Twenty-two years. We've been through every possible thing, good and bad, for twenty-two years." He blinked, and looked away. "I know. It's almost as long as you've been alive. But I know you know what I mean. You always know."

"Did you see her?"

"Yeah. She even woke up a little." Molly took a breath. "But she didn't know me. Not at all." She drew a deeper breath and sighed. "How can you not know someone after twenty-two years?" She knew the question didn't make sense. She dropped her face into her hands, not crying, but completely spent and empty. She was so sad, not hysterical or desperate, but so sad she felt empty inside. Then his arms were around her, long slim hands were stroking her hair and back. "Freddie, what am I gonna do?"

"You're gonna hold on, Besita, and it's gonna be all right. I'm telling you it's gonna be all right."

"Don't tell me unless it's true, because you know I'll believe you."

He turned her face so she'd look at him. She fell into his deep honest eyes. "It'll be all right, no matter what happens. You'll be all right." After a few minutes he asked her, "Did you come here at all? Did you sleep at all since you came back? Have you eaten?"

Practical stuff. She kept his life in order but he was on top of the practical stuff in hers. "No I didn't come back. I tried to eat at the hospital, but I puked. I can't sleep, Carlito, I can't sleep because when I wake up she might be gone."

As gently as he could, he told her, "She might be gone anyway. But she might stay too. Sleeping won't change that."

"That's what Joey said." She sat up and squirmed inside her clothes. "I need a shower."

"I'll help you." No question. He followed her into the bathroom, undressed them both and helped her step into the shower. The hot water felt so good. She leaned against him for a minute, hands on his hips. Then he soaked the washcloth with the fancy soap lotion and carefully, tenderly, washed her head to foot, no sexual encouragement, like a brother except a brother wouldn't have done this for her. He washed her hair too, her face resting on his shoulder as he worked his hands through the lather, tipping her head back to rinse it out, massaging the conditioner and rinsing that out perfectly.

Molly smiled a little as Freddie ran his hands through her hair a last time. "You're good at this."

"Instinct," he told her, "Desperation."

When he was through he helped her out, dried her off with a fluffy towel and dropped her silk nightgown over her head, then wrapped up in his big terry bathrobe. They said nothing. He found her hairdryer and led her to the living room where he sat on the floor with legs drawn up and had her lean back against them, hair trailing over his knees, and blew and brushed it dry. Her brain was nearly turned off; she let him handle her like a child, something she'd never tolerate under normal circumstances and had never tolerated before from anyone else. He set the dryer on the floor.

She turned and looked at him with sad eyes. "Can you help me sleep, Freddie? Can you keep the bad dreams away?" He lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. Finding a couple of quilts he climbed on the bed next to her before he pulled them up, covering her securely. "Relax, querida, just relax." He held her against him, cradling her like a baby, and rocked her slowly. "Go to sleep, I'm here. It's gonna be okay."

"Don't leave me, Freddie, okay. Don't ever." Her voice was vague.

"No. I won't leave, I'll stay right here with you."

She moved even closer and clutched his robe in her hands. "I'm so scared," she breathed, "I don't wanna be alone. If I lose her, I'll be so alone."

"You're not alone, querida, I'm right here with you. Don't be scared, it's gonna be okay. I promise. You know I keep my promises." She nodded and turned her face against his shoulder.

"Don't leave me," she repeated.

"No," he replied. "Never."

He was so warm and gentle. He surrounded her, secure, and somewhere inside she wondered if he knew he was making dangerous promises. Dangerous because she always believed him, always. He was stroking her face softly, kissing her hair. "Sleep, Besita, go to sleep. I'm here." She faded off to the sound of quiet Spanish, words she didn't understand that sounded like a spoken lullaby.


She was alone. He was gone. He got tired of caring for a middle-aged baby case and he was gone.

Molly sat bolt upright, eyes wide with pain and fear. Freddie came back from the bathroom. "What's wrong, Molly?"

"You were gone. I thought you were gone. Because I need so much, you wanted someone who doesn't need that much. You're too young for all this drama, I thought you were gone."

He came back to the bed in a hurry and took her in his arms. "I told you, I'm here, I'm staying, I'm not going. I'm not too young to care about you. Remember? I'm old enough to be good to you. Come on," he lay down and took her with him. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, "You know that. Go to sleep, querida, it's all right. I'm here." She made a little whimpering sound and he tightened his embrace. "It's okay."

She turned away from him in the night and he moved with her, one long arm around her waist and the other reaching over where he could cradle her face in long gentle fingers. Spooned back against him, she felt his warmth against her back and along her legs, even through her sleep she felt it. Shelter.

She rolled back against him and he went to his back, arms still resolutely enfolding her. He looked like a sleeping angel, sweet, young, old enough to be good to her. She turned in his arms and burrowed against his side, feeling safe. How did he do that? Even when he was asleep he made her feel so safe.