“No, Mom.” Jack answered for them both. “We weren’t.”
Kate looked at Lily quizzically. “I trusted Dylan,” Lily said. “Well, I trust him a lot more now that I see you both had fun.”
“Did you notice that in every case, the spouse who had been left had to decide between the new spouse and the old one?” Kate said. David saw the boys exchange a micro-glance.
“Oh, well,” she said, when it was clear no one else was going to answer. “Those kind of movies were always so puritanical. And punitive. They’re lucky no one got killed off for real to teach them a lesson.”
Later, in their dark bedroom, Kate whispered, “Are you thinking of Marilyn?” She was on top of him, something that hadn’t happened in years, and in the light sneaking past the closed blinds, she looked like his bride. He was glad she was interested tonight. He was glad the kids went out to the bars. He rarely approached Kate. His policy remained the same, he had clarified for her: “If I don’t have a fever of 103, then I’m available.”
He didn’t want her to have to regularly turn him down, or worse, force herself. Still, a few weeks ago, when she returned home from yoga—something about that always got to him—he told her that he really wanted to go upstairs with her. She laughed and said okay but he shouldn’t expect anything snazzy and he said, “You need to believe me that I don’t care—you can lie there and work on the grocery list.” She laughed again at his vehemence and they went upstairs. She wasn’t able to come and didn’t want to keep trying. “It’s fine, though, it’s really fine—nostalgic, like when I was new at sex and the boys knew nothing, and I couldn’t always, and the guy’s enjoyment was my payoff. It’s fine—altruistic but fine.” She had seemed relaxed enough that he believed her.
Now she seemed to be waiting for his answer.
“It’s always Marilyn for me,” he said. He could just make out her smile. Both of them had stopped moving, and then, almost whispering, he half sang, What do you see when you turn out the light?
She took the question seriously. “I know the facts may not support it, but I still feel you’re mine.”
“I am yours.” His voice caught on the words. He didn’t care if he cried. He met her look head-on. “If this hurts you, I will find a way to live without her.”
“I know you would. I know you would try.”
She leaned towards him and they finished making love. It didn’t feel exactly sexual. It felt like something else—something sacred—and he was certain that even Kate, for whom sex was becoming, at least sometimes, more like the light and easy thing it used to be, felt the same.
David was trying to remember if either he or Kate had asked the boys to call and check in when they reached their respective apartments. As if on cue, the landline rang, followed by Kate’s cell and then his. Confused, he and Kate moved towards the home phone but not in time to answer it. They both froze when they heard Martha’s message.
“Turn on the evening news,” and then, “I’m so sorry. It’s on ABC. Maybe the others too, but ABC for sure.”
David was the first to find the remote and fiddled with it, trying to switch from the DVR. Kate took it and located the evening news in time to see a middle-aged couple beaming fondly at an older woman. She looked embarrassed.
“Mrs. Stennick, can you tell us what it was like when the miracle drugs started to work?” The camera stayed on the anchor’s falsely bright teeth a moment too long.
The older woman looked at her lap. Why, David wondered, was she doing this? It was so obviously painful.
She must have forgotten the instructions on where to look, so her gaze landed off to the side. “At first, I just thought that other people were being more clear. I thought it was nice that they were speaking up and making more sense. It felt normal. I didn’t think much of it at first. I didn’t remember that it was about me. That I was the one.” Maybe someone motioned because now she looked at the camera. “But then one day I did. I understood I had been the problem.”
‘Yes,” Kate said to the TV. “I remember that part. I get it. I’m the problem. I’m the one who was gone.”
“Tune in tomorrow for the morning show. We’ll have three experts on Alzheimer’s and a gentleman from Dallas who was in the same clinical trial. Don’t miss ‘Back from the Dead.’ And remember, we’re here for you. And let us hear from you!” The young woman somehow widened her smile, and the camera returned again to Mrs. Stennick, who wasn’t expecting it. She looked sad, and though her mic was off, they watched her mouth the word dead. David thought she said it as a question.
The phone rang again. “Let’s wait,” Kate said, and they listened to her father leave a message. “I’ll call them while you get back to the boys. I think he was crying. Jesus, how can I put them through anything more?”
Fifteen minutes later, David found her still on the phone, winding down her conversation. “Yes, Dad, I know I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to. And if I do, which I don’t, I can set the terms. Got it.” She nodded, like a child dutifully memorizing rules. “And I’ll come stay with you if I need to. Except you can be found as easily as we can.” Her father must have made either a joke or a threat because she laughed, and then they said goodbye. She looked at David quizzically.
“Dylan was driving so we were quick. He heard it from Jack. He basically said, ‘This sucks. Tell me what to do.’ Jack saw it online. He wonders if they’ll find him. He wonders what to say. Then he said not to worry—he’s expert at not saying more than he wants to. Did we know this about him?”
Kate looked as if she was trying to make up her mind.
“And Dylan says you can hide out with him and Lily if you need to, though Lily says nothing will stop them. Especially once they figure out the Jane part.”
“She will never put up with this,” Kate said, and David nodded miserably. He knew she meant Jane.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kate clicked the remote start but left her car idling prominently in the driveway. She and David snuck out the back door to his car, which was parked one block over. Martha would come by in ten minutes with a spare key and shut Kate’s car off. Later that day, Martha reenacted the scene for him.
“Hyenas. Shouting over each other like you see on TV. They’d quiet down any time I opened my mouth. So I asked them what time was it. I asked if they knew the chance of rain today. I asked if they had any good lottery numbers. They only followed me for two houses.”
David could see that Martha enjoyed having a way to help. And maybe it helped her manage her outrage at the invasion and the fear of how the hounding would affect Kate. He was grateful. And nervous. After work, he and Kate would be on their own getting back into the house. Reporters, duped, are hungry animals.
“Mrs. Sanders, how are you feeling? Do you think you’ll have a relapse? Is it true your husband remarried while you were ill? Is she living here? What’s her name? Where does everyone sleep?”
David was glad he didn’t own a gun. By the fourth day, he wished he did. That morning, the reporters were waiting at the back door, having figured out the ruse. He hoped they were embarrassed it had taken them so long to notice it wasn’t really cold enough to warm up a car for ten minutes. Luckily, he hadn’t locked the backdoor yet so he and Kate were able to quickly retreat and hide in the house with the shades drawn. After thirty minutes, he called for a taxi, and when it arrived, they ran out the front door. Unbelievably, the reporters were still camped out in the back yard.
“I’m glad the kids didn’t major in journalism,” Kate said, and they both laughed a little hysterically. The driver looked at them through his mirror, alarmed.
Just before lunch, an acquaintance from the Psychology Department stopped by David’s office. This wasn’t usual.
“Look, David, I came by to give you a quick lecture in learning theory and schedules of reinforcement. You may have had it in college, but you need a review course. It applies to dealing with the media. Trust me on this.”
&nb
sp; A few years ago, this well-respected psychologist had been involved with some controversial and misunderstood research that attracted unwanted national attention. David remembered feeling very sorry for the guy.
“If it’s better than my fantasies involving automatic weapons, let’s hear it.”
“You just have to not reward the reporters in any way, and they’ll move on. Don’t give them any crumbs. Don’t say something intelligent that you think they’ll quote correctly. Just don’t. But you have to remember this: at first they’ll get worse.
Sometimes, people are kind in unusual ways.
David and Jane spoke by phone several times a day. They pretended things were normal, but when he offered to come to her house, he did it half-heartedly, and she didn’t hesitate before rejecting the idea.
“I miss you too,” she said. “But I can wait. I’m going to stay with Lucy and Tom for a while.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. I feel terrible.”
“You mean you and Kate should have to deal with it?”
“No,” he tried to explain. “I mean that you especially shouldn’t have to deal with it.”
“I know you know that makes no sense,” Jane said. “We’re in this together. Some people might even think I was the one most deserving of…a bad outcome.” Then she cheered him up by describing the plan to evade the reporters, a scheme in which Tom’s sister would leave Jane’s house in a memorably purple raincoat purchased at TJ Maxx.
The reporters only tried once to find David and Kate at the university. A bored security force was happy to have a project. Jane’s downtown office was always well guarded, though so far no one seemed to have figured out where she worked. David thought that was surprising. The practice had a really good web site.
Tom and Lucy’s back deck felt safe enough, surrounded as it was by a tall privacy fence. David and Jane decided to sit outside and share one of the oversized beers Tom stocked.
“This is nice,” Jane said. “I was getting claustrophobic. And I missed you. I’m glad you insisted on coming over.”
It was David’s third time courting her here at her friends’ house. Today was the first time the house was empty. He should send Lucy some great flowers for that one. It was nice to be outside without being accosted, but he hoped they’d go inside soon, before the five residents returned. He couldn’t tell if that’s what Jane was thinking.
“Hello?” a man called. “Hello, is anyone there?” He knocked on the gate and the hardware rattled. “Lucy! Tom! I thought I heard voices.”
Whoever it was didn’t try to unlatch the gate, so David was pretty sure he wasn’t a reporter.
Comprehension crossed Jane’s face. She didn’t look pleased, but she did get up and walk over to the gate. Her hand shook as she lifted the bar. David went to stand behind her and got a look at the man waiting.
“Jane!”
“Charlie.”
“I didn’t know where you lived. By that, I mean I never paid any online company to give me your address.” He smiled and David watched something uncanny happen to Charlie’s face. He went from merely handsome to charismatic. I want him to like me. At first glance, David guessed Charlie was ten years younger. Then he remembered he was Jane’s age, five years younger, but passing for ten. Or more.
“What are you doing here?” Jane asked.
“The news about you was so extraordinary…”
Charlie seemed at a loss for words. David guessed that didn’t happen much.
Charlie tried again. “I manage some investment accounts for your university here. So I thought it was a good time to meet with them face-to-face. Hearing about you was so…unexpected.”
This guy seemed totally unperturbed that David was there. He wasn’t rude. He included David in his eye contact. He even directed a wry smile at him.
“You heard about me. You didn’t hear from me. You can’t think that’s an invitation.”
“Oh, Jane, of course not. I’ve gone about this all wrong, and I am very sorry for barging in.” He seemed genuinely embarrassed. “It’s just that we were married a long time, and it would be nice to catch up. Maybe coffee before I leave? Just coffee?”
She didn’t say no.
“I’ll have my phone call your phone,” Charlie said. “I have your work number.” He smiled again at David. “It was nice to meet you,” he said, without using his name. In fact, no one had used David’s name.
“Well, that was weird,” Jane said, after a too-long silence.
He wondered if she would have said more if they hadn’t heard Tom and Lucy’s out-of-tune Subaru pull into the driveway. Tom got out first and moved to block the gate.
“Groceries,” he said, motioning to the trunk, as the kids tried to get past him. They headed back to the car, muttering.
“Quick reflexes,” Lucy said. “Was somebody just here? A really nice car just pulled away.”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Jane said, and David made his goodbyes before walking the six blocks to where he’d left his car, just in case.
It was strange that it wasn’t more strange to be talking about this with Kate. He wasn’t totally un-self-conscious, but at least he could talk. And not hide anything.
“Tell me again,” Kate said. “Surely you’ve left out something.”
“Not really. It was all very fast, and then he was gone and then I was gone.”
“And you’ve not heard anything from Jane in 24 hours. More, I guess.”
“I left her one message.”
“I feel like I’m a person who usually knows what to say,” said Kate, moving closer to him on the step, and he moved a little too so she could be in the shade. “But I have no idea what to say. Or what’s going to happen. I had the impression that he was nothing but a bad memory. An embarrassment.”
“Oh my God. First love is such an imprint. We’re all sort of ducklings still fixed on the first love object we followed.” David leaned in to kiss her. “Look at me. Am I not proof of the power of first love?” He missed Jane, but he didn’t feel amputated this time. There wasn’t anything more he could do, or rather there wasn’t anything more he would do. He wasn’t leaving Kate. And God knows, there wasn’t one more thing Kate could do.
He felt pleased with this summation for a few more seconds until he thought of the last time, the time before the news frenzy, when he and Jane were together. When everything he wanted still felt possible. He wondered who had ruined things. Dr. Tsang said he didn’t know, and David believed him. The data were still good, the doctor reassured them, but the attention, he agreed, was a miserable consequence.
“You make a good point,” Kate said. “First love and new love: powerful drugs both.” He saw her examine his face, but whatever she saw, she let it go.
Charlie suggested the restaurant of Jane and David’s first proper date—the one where at least one of you knows you’re going to have sex later—but she steered him across the street to a place she didn’t like. He was very picky about food and wouldn’t thank her for this. She didn’t think she’d be eating anything. Her body felt entirely unreal, without any corporeal needs, as if she were navigating in a dream. They each ordered a glass of wine, and when it arrived, Charlie told the waiter he’d flag him down if they wanted anything more. She thought he looked as anxious as she’d ever seen him. It made him seem like a different person.
“I’m going to say something stupid, and you won’t believe me, for which I do not blame you, but I still want to say that I am not the same person you knew.”
Jane summoned up a neutral smile.
“I mean I am not full of shit any more.” He sat back. Did he think he had explained himself?
“Look,” Jane said, “you can tell me anything you want, but I am not asking you any questions.” This came out harsher than she intended. He didn’t seem to notice.
“I hurt somebody else after you, Jane. I didn’t think I would, but I did, and she was a really good person too. She trus
ted me. I was so miserable, and I guess it seemed like a convincing amount of misery.” He gave a half smile. She would have to say he looked embarrassed. Did she even know he was capable of such a thing?
“I did finally get some help then. I can’t say that I figured out the whys of my behavior. It was as if I thought that if I could do it, I should do it. It was like squandering to say no.”
Jane made a non-committal sound. She didn’t think she would stay much longer.
“I understand the rest of it. I understand that I flirted and seduced. Women didn’t just knock on my car door.” He hadn’t touched his wine. “I groomed them.”
She had never heard him use this tone of voice before. It was disgust, she realized. Or at least that was a possibility.
“I could make it seem as if they made the first moves, and sometimes they did, but usually it was me. New bodies, new people. That’s powerful. I know you must understand some of what I’m talking about. The sex part. You know, it wasn’t that I didn’t know how other people could be faithful. I didn’t know why.”
She saw him look to his left and warn off the waiter. “Actually, I don’t understand what you mean,” she said. “I mean, the power of variety—yes, I get that. But I don’t understand risking everything—ruining everything. That’s addict stuff.”
He gave a slight grimace. “Thank you for using that word. I feel pretty protective about the ‘A’ word. People don’t like it. They think it’s a shield. Did you know men have trouble finding good male therapists to work with? All too often, it turns out that their therapist envies them.”
She nodded. She knew the next thing would be David and Kate. Charlie was about to carefully draw her out, and then find parallels between her and him, and then close the deal. Some deal. Something. Yes, she realized, he wants to find common ground between them—that his infidelities and her current situation were the same. Similar enough. Similar enough for him to be absolved.
The Half-Life of Everything Page 25
