Perfunctory Affection

by Kim Harrison

  “The colors so sharp against each other,” he said, his eyes on the ordered cars as he crept along. “It’s like nothing I’ve seen here. I’d try painting it myself, but it comes out all wrong. Maybe I should try painting like you do. With only some of the colors.”

  Meg gave him a wan smile. “Maybe.” Painting with only some of the colors wasn’t really what she did. It was more like being able to see the whole from a part and knowing exactly what to leave in and what to leave out, tickling the brain to fill in the rest. It was likely that no two people ever saw her work the same way, which was an intriguing thought in itself.

  “Do you think you could paint me something sometime?” Rorry said, as he turned to her. “If you want to?” he added, his expression anxious. “I don’t care what it is.”

  “Sure.” Meg’s grip on the top of the window tightened. It was as if he was asking her to make him his favorite dessert and he didn’t have the first idea of how a kitchen worked.

  “Today, maybe?” he added when he saw her blasé attitude. “Or tonight. Tomorrow even.”

  At that, she laughed, touching his knee to reassure him she wasn’t laughing at him. He looked so desperate for it, and that was as flattering as all hell. “I’ve been wanting to do the fountain,” she said, thinking it would be prudent to have an example for the prompt she wanted to give her students. It would be frogs and lily pads today.

  Rorry’s expression lightened. “Oh, that would be great. Something that shows where we’ve been would be outstanding. Haley never lets us bring much when we leave, but I know she’d let me keep that. She likes your work as much as I do.”

  Meg’s smile became stilted. She’d forgotten that they were leaving at the end of the semester. “There’s a spot,” she said, pointing, and Rorry immediately pulled in with the ease of long practice. One of the car’s belts screamed in protest. It hadn’t been fixed, either, and Meg winced, the sound never having bothered her before. Maybe she should do something about that.

  “You don’t have to paint if you don’t want to, though,” Rorry rushed, his eyes suddenly pinched. “We could go out on the lake, or the mall. Whatever.”

  “No, I could do with a little time on the canvas this afternoon.” She smiled as Rorry turned the car off, but inside she was wondering how she was going to get to Dr. Jillium’s for her next twenty-four hours of Fitrecepon without Rorry knowing about it. Lip curled under, she gathered her purse. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem.” He handed the key to her with an overdone flourish. “I should probably get my license renewed.”

  Meg looked up from dropping the key into her purse, her eyes wide. “You don’t have a license?” she asked. He clearly knew how to drive.

  “Not for here.” Rorry opened the door, his long legs swinging to find the pavement. “It’s hard when you have to keep updating your address.”

  “I suppose.” Meg got out as well, her closing door sounding loud as it echoed against the buildings. The reminder that they wouldn’t be here after winter sobered her. “It must be hard moving around so much.”

  Rorry shrugged, squinting at her across the top of the car. “I won’t be doing it forever. And if all goes well, both Haley and I might be able to stop moving soon.” His smile widened. “See you in about four hours? Haley left me a market list. Do you want anything special?”

  Meg’s lips quirked, not surprised. The refrigerator was utterly empty. When and where Haley had gotten the sugar and coffee was a mystery. “No,” she said, anxious to get in and start class. Stealing her car had almost made her late. “Why don’t you take the car? The nearest grocery store is like half a mile away. Not a bad walk, but if you’re carrying bags, it can take forever. Especially if you need everything.” Like sugar, and butter, and coffee.

  Head dropping, Rorry sighed. “Okay, you caught me. I’m not going shopping. I was going to talk to Austin, and I can’t tool up to his place in your car. The man does have his pride, I suppose.”

  “You want to talk to Austin?” she blurted, the fear of the two of them meeting bringing her up short. She did not want Rorry to find out anything about her, how Austin had been living with her for three years making himself into her crutch, her weekly sessions with Dr. Jillium, and definitely not her new medication. “No. Rorry, please don’t. I’ve got this handled.”

  “Someone needs to tell him to leave you alone,” he grumbled, looking protective.

  “And I did that,” she said, pulse fast as she came around the car to meet him at the front. Oh, God, if they ever meet, it will all come tumbling down, she thought as she stood between Rorry and the mangled front. “It’s not your problem. It’s mine.”

  Squinting in the dappled sun, he took her hands. “One you shouldn’t have to deal with.”

  Head down, she gathered her thoughts. “I understand what you’re trying to do, but really, this is something I need to do on my own.” She looked up, trying to impress him to back off and stay backed off. “It will be okay. He’d never hurt me.” No, he just enabled me to stay stuck where I was for three years. “Promise me you’ll leave him alone. Promise, or I’m not going into my class.”

  Rorry looked at her hands in his, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he finally muttered, “Okay. I promise. But I don’t know what I’m going to do for the next few hours.”

  Smiling fondly, she rocked back, her hands slipping from his. “You could get your license renewed.”

  Rorry shrugged sheepishly. “I could get my license renewed,” he echoed.

  Meg’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I’ll see you for lunch,” she said, and thinking that sticking with him for the entire day was probably a good idea. Maybe she could cut class short and be out to Dr. Jillium’s and back before he returned to drive her home. It wasn’t as if they could leave the car here overnight.

  “Putt-putt,” he said, pantomiming hitting a ball and making a little tunk of sound, and she gave him a little wave before turning to weave through the cars to the back door. Her confident pace faltered as she walked right into a spider-web. Warming, she turned to see if Rorry noticed, but he was already halfway to the street, his hands in his pockets and his head down.

  Her building pass opened the back door, and she ghosted inside, the air conditioning dry and empty of the rich scents from outside. Unseen voices echoed in the wide corridors, and she hustled up the three flights of wide marble stairs to her sun-drenched studio class. She wasn’t late yet, but it was close, and she smiled and met the eyes of everyone on the way, feeling good about where she was and what she was doing. Rorry wanted a special picture of the fountain, and she was already sketching it out in her mind.

  No one noticed when she slipped into her room, her students busy comparing the work they’d done over the weekend or complaining that they hadn’t had enough time. It was a little slice of heaven, and she went to the back of the room to put a few things she’d need for Rorry’s picture into her purse before things got busy and she forgot. She was tucking the tin of cleaner away as she froze in a stunning realization.

  She wasn’t anxious about the class at all.

  Exhaling, she turned to them, grateful for the meds that were finally letting her remember who she’d been before her mother had died.

  “Okay, settle down,” she said loudly, and they all looked up, someone actually swearing as they realized it was her. It only added to her confidence. “I see that not everyone has their three canvases that I assigned last Friday,” she said as she strolled from the back sinks to the elevated instructor stage. Her shadow was long across the easels as she walked before the tall windows, and she couldn’t help but smirk at the range of expressions from dismay to anxious.

  “Uh, I didn’t know we were supposed to bring them in,” one student said.

  “That’s why it’s called homework, Stan,” she said, relieved she actually remembered his name. She was smiling to ease the bite of her words, and it felt good to be able to joke around with them. From the
back, someone tittered, and a warm feeling suffused her.

  But her pleasure that her humor was understood vanished when a familiar pace drew her attention out the window and she saw Austin stomping across the quad, his destination obvious. Her smile vanished, and she forced her hand down from her necklace. Clearly he was upset about the car, but it was hers, damn it, and they had broken up. Did he think that he got the car just because she didn’t drive it?

  Maybe I should have left him a note or texted him, she thought, suddenly feeling trapped. She just drove off with it leaving him to assume…what? What kind of a jerk does that to someone else? But she had been mad and somewhat of a coward, and watching his arms swing, she realized that hadn’t changed.

  The need to flee filled her. She didn’t want to ruin this perfect class with an ugly argument in the hall where her students could hear. Perhaps she should take the opportunity to run out to Dr. Jillium’s for her meds right now. She could be back in twenty minutes, avoiding Austin and getting her meds both.

  Arms around her middle, she watched Austin, not caring if running made her a coward. “Okay,” she said loudly to bring the class back to attention. “We’re going to take our mid break right now so those of you who didn’t bring in last Friday’s assignment can retrieve them. I’m going to skip out for a moment,” she said as she crossed the room quickly, purse in hand. “But I’ll be back in twenty. I expect everyone to have their canvas or don’t bother to come back.”

  “Oh, man…” one of the students griped, falling back against one of the long tables. “I’ve got more to do than paint all weekend.”

  “Then you do not belong in my class,” Meg said as she bolted out the door and let it swing shut behind her. Her last sight was of two of her students frantically throwing pigment on canvas in a clear attempt to have something to share—as slipshod and purposeless as it would be—just so they wouldn’t get kicked out. It was gratifying, both that she could make such a demand and that there were those who would try to cover their lapse just to stay involved. But Meg hardly had the state of mind to appreciate it as she raced down the now-empty marble steps and out into the damp parking lot.

  Breath held, Meg looked toward the lot’s entrance, then back to her car. In a burst of daring, she ran to the Volvo, head down as she dug in her purse for her keys. Austin had a key as well, and she didn’t want to have to explain to Rorry why the car was gone if he took it. Rorry would probably want to confront Austin to get it back, and from there, everything would tumble down like cards.

  Her fingers trembled as she yanked open the door and got in, fumbling to get the key in the ignition. She hadn’t driven for three years. I’m much better now, she thought as the car started up with a loud rumble. The sudden blaring of the radio startled her, and Meg snapped it off, frantically checking behind her before lurching the car back out of the slot, a belt whining in protest.

  “Meg!” Austin called, and Meg swore as she spotted him. Fumbling, she jammed the car into drive and lurched forward, tires squeaking on the wet pavement.

  “Meg, wait!” Austin called as he ran to cut her off at the entrance. “I need to talk to you. I’m not mad about the car! I just want to talk.”

  Gasping, she jumped on the brakes when he darted across the entrance. The car lurched as her head swung, and her pulse hammered at the narrow miss. Shocked, she almost stalled the car, doing nothing as he grabbed the bottom of her open window, his eyes pinched in desperation. “I just want to talk,” he said again, and her breath came fast. “Where are you going?”

  “Somewhere you aren’t.” She squinted up at him in the dappled shade. She wanted this done and over. She couldn’t live like this anymore. “Let go of the car, Austin. Let go, or I swear I’ll run you over!”

  The last was a veritable screech, and he let go, his eyes wide in shock as he dropped back.

  She drove off in a squealing of tires and something thumping deep in her car’s engine. Meg looked back as she bounced out onto the main street. The light ahead was just turning yellow, and she sped through it, heart pounding. She felt alive as she left him behind, eager to talk to Dr. Jillium and get a new set of meds. The persnickety woman might not even care that Meg had been ignoring her diary if she pulled up in her car.

  Sixteen

  Excitement hummed through Meg, the vibration of the rumbling engine pushing it up through her feet and all the way to her fingertips as she drove to Dr. Jillium’s. It was more than odd to be behind the wheel after three years; it was exhilarating. The wind gusting through the window tugged her hair, and a long-absent sensation of independence had her hyper alert. She didn’t even mind that her car was mechanically-off, noisy, something she’d never noticed when Austin drove it. Her attention was evenly divided between the campus’s cramped, twisty roads before and behind her for any sign of Austin.

  Her mood suddenly tarnished as a three-year-old memory spun up from nowhere, of her driving off the road and intentionally into a tree. She didn’t even remember why she’d done it, other than she’d been despairing about something, overwhelmed, unable to cope, so desperate to feel something other than loss that pain had been a relief. The quiet afterward certainly had been.

  Afterward, everything changed, and yet, nothing was different. Austin had been terrified, which, in light of her new understanding, might be why she’d never let him get the car fixed. She knew the reminder of that night bothered him, and it had probably been a passive aggressive way to punish him for keeping her this needy thing that required his presence to function.

  Quite sure she wasn’t ready to bring this new-found realization up with Dr. Jillium, Meg carefully pulled up to the curb and put the car into park only four spots down from her office. Meg wasn’t that same person anymore. She knew the signs and could sidestep self-injury, but her old self lingered in the shadows, ready to pounce if she should falter. Always and ever she had to be vigilant to her past, lest she have no future.

  Meg got out. Her grip tightened spasmodically on her purse as she looked down the street, the hard shape of the brush cleaner obvious through the fabric. She couldn’t keep dodging Austin forever. But she didn’t want to face him today. Not now.

  Taking a deep breath, she jogged up the wide stone steps and hit the buzzer. “Dr. Jillium? It’s me.”

  “Come on up, Meg. The door is open,” came back immediately, and Meg pulled on the heavy glass door as a harsh tone hummed.

  She went in, the building’s cool air somehow unpleasant after the moist warmth of the morning blowing through her hair. Her pace was fast as she took the smooth steps up to the third floor, giving the front door a perfunctory knock before going in. The living room was empty, and she unslung her purse from her shoulder as she crossed to the wide window to look down at her car. No Austin.

  “Hi Dr. J,” she said loudly at the small noise from the inner office. “I probably should have called, but I was in the area and I took a chance you’d be available.” Her brow furrowed as she looked up the empty street. Still no Austin.

  “Hi, Meg,” Dr. Jillium’s voice came back unseen. “Come on in. I’m just finishing some paperwork.”

  Mentally telling Austin to back off, Meg turned, shook out her hands, and went into the inner office. The stately woman was at her smaller desk, the windows that never opened already shuttered as if ready for a session. Dr. Jillium smiled as she looked up from putting her hand-written notes into a folder and closing it. Meg’s own smile went stiff as she saw her name on it.

  “You wouldn’t believe the paperwork that goes with an experimental drug,” Dr. Jillium said as she set a hand protectively on the file. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look that sharp before. That haircut suits you. Special day?”

  “No, but thank you.” She wanted to get her pills and leave, but she gingerly sat on the front of a chair before the long coffee table. It wasn’t her usual spot, and she hoped Dr. Jillium would take the hint that she was in a hurry. “I had it cut Saturday,” she said as s
he felt the tips and wondered how it could have only been two days ago. It felt like an entire summer. “Right during the busy hours,” she added when Dr. Jillium clearly waited for more.

  “I’m very glad to hear that. How’s work going?”

  Meg set her purse on the low table, the clink of the brush cleaner obvious. “Good,” she said. “Better than good. Everything is perfect. I drove today.”

  Dr. Jillium stood, her eyes going down to the street. “Congratulations,” she said, looking at her car. “I know that’s a big step.”

  Meg’s brow furrowed. “Yes. Thank you. It feels good to be on the road again. I should probably get it fixed if I’m going to drive it.”

  Dr. Jillium’s eyebrows rose at Meg’s sour tone. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Meg shrugged, forcing herself not to look at the cabinet behind Dr. J’s desk. “Not really. It wasn’t a big deal once I got behind the wheel.”

  “I’m curious.” Dr. Jillium sat on the edge of the front of her desk, arms crossed. “What prompted you?”

  At least three lies, none of them convincing, rose up through Meg’s thoughts, but she was mad at Austin, and if Dr. Jillium sided with her, she could dump the lingering guilt and get on with the breakup. “It’s Austin,” she finally said. “He’s being a pain about me not wanting to live with him anymore. I wanted my car back, and I took it without telling him.”

  Dr. Jillium stood, her expressive eyebrows high. “Oh,” she said as she moved back behind her desk and touched her tablet awake.

  Meg sighed, glancing at the clock over the defunct fireplace, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. A vague feeling of being threatened stole over her, but it was Austin who had the problem, not her. “It’s as if he’s stalking me,” she said, and Dr. Jillium swiped through her tablet until settling on something. “I’ve told him to go away. Several times.”

  “That’s positive.” Dr. Jillium came back around her desk and sat down across from Meg. “That you are delineating a clear separation will further your progress immeasurably.”