Thomas spins around and looks at me. “Holy shit.”
“But that’s the past; that’s Audrey. I’m not her, and Jason doesn’t love me anyway.” I point my finger at him and turn it around in the air. “Also, just so you know, you say ‘holy shit’ a lot.”
He scratches the side of his face. “Let me tell you something about Jason. When we were in medical school, women would hear his name and practically undress on the spot, but he never used it to his advantage. If I were a Gilbert, I would’ve been out there meeting every woman I could. But Jason would never exploit his family name. By the time I met him, he was already so in love with you he couldn’t even look at another girl, so when we’d go out, I’d get the girls that collected around him and take them home. I got to exploit the Gilbert name, and I had no problem with it. I’m not the kind of guy for someone like you. He is.”
“So what I think I’m hearing,” I say very slowly, trying not to slur my words, “is that you were in love with Audrey.”
“No. When did I say that?”
“Well maybe you didn’t even realize it. The point is you would never want the girl you love to be with ‘a player’, right? Because she deserved better than that. But the thing you loved most about her is gone now, isn’t it?”
“What thing?”
“The part of her that was unobtainable. For a commitment-phobe, she was the perfect girl.”
Thomas grabs one of Jason’s mini basketballs and squeezes it in his hands while he walks. “Son of a bitch.” He turns to take a shot and sinks the ball into the hoop over the bar.
“Are you OK?” I close one eye to steady myself, feeling like I could pass out at any moment.
Thomas sits on my bed again and pulls me close, his strong hand on the back of my head. We hold on to each other without saying anything.
“Audrey would never have been able to say it like that,” he whispers finally. “Thanks for doing it. Somebody needed to.”
“What do you mean?”
He pulls away and exhales heavily, as if he’s just put down a thousand pound weight. “I can’t continue like this. I’ll be a grown man with no family of my own living half a life. Playing house. I’ve been trying to decide what to do about San Diego…”
“You’re a grown man already. And what do you mean San Diego?”
“Before your accident, I was offered a ten-month fellowship at a hospital in California. I was thinking of every reason not to go, but none of them are really my reasons.”
My eyes cloud with tears. “You’re going to leave? What if you love it and don’t come back?”
Thomas puts his hand on my cheek. “Now you sound like your old self. Always scared of ‘what ifs’. You were right before—you’re a bit of a badass now. So give it to me straight. Should I stay?”
The trust in his eyes tells me he’ll do whatever I want, but I say what I know is right. “I want you to stay, but you should do what’s best for you. Go find a life for yourself and bring it back here.”
He wipes tears off my face. “You’re not so bad, Jane. I think I could get used to you.”
My throat closes as I try to swallow back the astringent taste of rejection. Another first for me in this new life.
Thomas puts his hand on mine. “I forgot who I was once, you know, but in a different kind of way. I was struggling with who I wanted to be. Back in medical school I got an earring and started introducing myself as Tomás. I started sleeping around. I mean dozens of different women. And sometimes multiple—”
I cover his mouth with my hand. “Gross.”
He pushes me away and continues. “I was worried I was hiding repressed homosexual tendencies or something. I drank way too much, and my grades started slipping. One night Jason took me out to a bar and got me drunk. Walking home, he leaned in like he was going to kiss me. I totally freaked out. I was completely disgusted.”
I laugh. “Was he really going to kiss you?”
“No, he just wanted to see what I would do.”
“But what if you kissed him back?” I snuggle into my bed. “And by the way, I really love these pills.”
He rolls his eyes and continues. “Well that’s the thing about Jason. He knew me so well, if I were gay he would’ve known it first, and he never would’ve done that."
“Just because you don’t want to kiss your best friend doesn’t mean you aren’t gay.”
“It was a good test and it worked. Leave it at that. Anyway, then he punched me in the face and ripped out my earring.” Thomas leans in and points to the scar. “He told me to get my shit together because he wasn’t going to go into private practice with some wannabe pirate gigolo.”
“And then?”
“And then I was better.”
I can barely control my laughter. “How’s that supposed to help me?” I ask when I can breathe again. “Unless you think punching me in the face would solve my problems.”
“Of course not. I’m saying I was cured. I mean I still slept around, but I didn’t overthink it.”
“So as long as someone doesn’t overthink something it isn’t really a problem?” I ask.
“Oh, no, I’m not getting pulled into one of these discussions. But I will say that letting your mind run wild and playing crime scene detective isn’t going to help you, either. Luminol,” he says, shaking his head. “God, you’re a trip.”
“You should’ve seen the place. It lit up like fireworks in there,” I say sleepily. “How can you be so sure I’m wrong about the blood?”
“You’re not wrong about the blood. You’re wrong about Jason. But he needs to be the one to tell you why.” He plants a kiss on my forehead before standing up. “Goodnight, my loopy friend. Enjoy your drugs.”
“Thomas,” I say, as the room spins, “remember in the hospital when I asked why you’re so nice to me and you said Audrey always asked you that? What was the response you’d give her?” Although my eyes are beginning to close, I see him smile, and I try to hold on long enough to hear his answer.
“I’d always say, ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’”
~19~
“Jane.” Jason gently nudges my arm. “Are you awake?”
“I am now.” I try to sit up in bed, shielding my eyes from the blazing afternoon sun that shines through the sliding glass doors. “What time is it? I think somebody drugged me last night.”
He gives a half smile. “You took two extra muscle relaxers.”
“I had a dream that Thomas wore an earring and called himself Tomás.”
Jason grasps my hand and pulls me up. “He really did that once, so you didn’t dream it. Heard you had quite a night.” He looks over the wound on my leg and frowns. Without saying a word, he walks over to the window and looks out over the yard, shaking his head slightly as if part of a conversation I can’t hear.
“What did Thomas tell you?” I ask bluntly. If I wait for Jason to initiate a discussion, I’ll live the rest of my life like this.
He keeps his back to me. “That I’m not doing a very good job of showing you who I am. And that keeping certain things from you is contributing to the problem.”
“Sounds about right.”
Jason turns around. “Did he tell you he accepted a fellowship in San Diego? I know that’s going to be hard for you for a while, but maybe—”
“Hard for me?”
“I know you have some confusing feelings, and I can’t blame you for being attached to him. He and Audrey were very close. I’m beginning to wonder if she felt as strongly for him as you do.”
“I don’t have feelings for him.” As I say it, I realize that it’s the truth. “It was just easier for me to get to know him because the only responsibility I have to him is that of a friend.”
A relieved expression crosses Jason’s face. He smiles slightly and sits down again. “Luminol, huh?”
I put my head in my hands. “Oh God. Please know that anything I said or did last night was the result of some weird pills.”
“
I would have found that box of crap in the garage, even if you didn’t confess. It’s not like you hid it well,” he says. So Dottie left it out for him to find. I should have expected that. Well played.
He shakes his head. “The thing that upsets me is you believing I’d hurt you.”
“How would I know any better? You haven’t exactly made things easy for me to understand,” I say.
“I’m walking a hell of a tightrope here. There’s a lot for you to digest, and it’s hard to know what to tell you and when. Plus, I’m trying to keep you healing, keep Daisy in the dark, and keep hoping that the woman who forgot she’s my wife will look at me the same way she looks at my best friend.” He throws a basketball into the hoop above the bar. “And on top of all that, I’m harvesting a heart out of a kid who was killed on the highway for a sixty-five-year-old transplant patient. So, sorry if I seem like a prick.”
“What can I say? I was having horrible nightmares. Somebody could have explained their origin to me before I discovered that the scene of the nightmare was my own bathroom.”
“I didn’t realize it was our bathroom in the dream. I suspected it might have been, but it’s not like you gave me details. I didn’t know that someone with amnesia could dream about events from their life that they don’t remember when they’re awake. I was trying to buy some time until I knew for sure that was happening to you.”
I roll my eyes. “I hate that you’ll only tell me things once we get to the point where you’re certain I have most of it, and you only need to fill in the rest.”
“I’d rather not dredge up horrible memories if I don’t have to,” he says.
“Well you don’t have to. Apparently my subconscious is doing that for you. What you should be doing is explaining things to me to keep me from being terrified.”
Jason sighs heavily. “C’mon. Follow me.”
He leads me to the stairs and follows me up to make sure I don’t fall. When we get to the second floor landing, I lean on my crutches to rest before going up the next flight.
“No, Jane, we’re stopping here,” he says.
He guides me down a corridor past Daisy’s room and playroom to a closed door. He feels around the top of the trim and finds a key, then slides it into the lock and holds open the door for me. It’s a nursery. Bright white beadboard wraps around the bottom half of the room under a thick white chair rail. The top half is painted light blue. A large rocking chair occupies a lonely corner. The crib has been taken apart and is leaning against a wall; a matching changing table stands across from it with only a white blanket folded on top embroidered with the name “James” in blue stitching.
“Was this your brother’s nursery when your parents lived here?” As soon as I say it, I remember that his parents never lived here.
Jason swallows hard. “No. This would have been the nursery for our son. Your nightmares were about the night you were hemorrhaging after delivering him stillborn. We lost the baby in October. At full term.”
“I’m sorry for you,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.” There’s nothing more I can think to say. There are no feelings attached to the memory for me.
“It happened to you, too,” he says.
“Did you ever find out what caused it?”
“We don’t know. Audrey wouldn’t allow an autopsy. One day she went in for a checkup, and there wasn’t a heartbeat anymore. Her doctors had to induce labor so she could deliver him. He was so beautiful; we were going to name him James. That’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever been through since my brother died. Until your accident, of course.” Jason wipes tears from his face. “Audrey didn’t take it well—not that anyone would. A few days later, I found her in the bathroom screaming. She was hemorrhaging, just like you described in your dream. I grabbed her from behind and dragged her out. She was completely detached from what was going on; she didn’t even know the blood was hers. I had to call 911 and get her back to the hospital.”
I link my arm with his and rest my head on his shoulder. “How horrible, Jason. Was that when the problems started for you two?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Audrey experienced bad postpartum depression with Daisy, too. But it went beyond that after we lost James. She became a shell of a person and blamed herself. She was a zombie.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated. It’s just how she was.” He shakes his head. “God, I’m talking about her like she’s completely gone now. Sometimes I can’t believe how much I’ve lost.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble, Jason. I really am.”
“She wouldn’t let me change anything. I kept telling myself I’d give her another month and then take it all down, but this was the only thing she had left of him. I wish I’d done it sooner. Maybe if I did, she would’ve been able to move past it.”
“Have you moved past it?”
“No, but I have work to keep me busy. Audrey was here in the house with Daisy and the memories. She couldn’t go forward anymore.”
I run my hand along the crib rail. Blue teddy bears stare at me from their perch on a shelf as I pick up the soft white blanket and hold it to my cheek, trying to conjure a memory. “I can’t remember anything.”
“You know what? For once I’m glad. I don’t want you to remember this.” He guides me out of the nursery and locks the door behind him. “I keep it locked so Daisy doesn’t go in here. It was hard for her to understand. Since the accident, I’ve been coming in here at night and taking things apart when she’s asleep.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. I’m sorry for suspecting you. I’m sorry for your loss.” The list of things I’m sorry for seems never ending. How could I have gotten things so wrong? All I’ve done for this man from the moment I regained consciousness is cause him pain. It occurred to me while we were in the nursery that Jason and Daisy would have been better off if I’d stayed in the hospital to recuperate instead of coming home. They could have gotten used to being without me, and we could have decided what to do once I was healed. I want to ask him about the journals with the missing pages and the things that Daisy said to me, but I feel I’ve already put him through enough.
“I feel horrible,” I say.
“Don’t. No more feeling bad, OK? There’s been enough of that around here lately. But does this tell you what you need to know?’
I force myself to smile. “Not everything, but it’s a start.”
“I have to go back to the hospital in a while, and I’ll be away for another day or two. My mother planned a surprise for you while I’m gone. And once your leg heals, Daisy and I would like to bring you to her favorite Mexican restaurant. Maybe we can try to be a family again for her.”
“Sounds fun,” I say. It would be so much easier if he told me what he wanted for himself rather than always making it about our child.
“Maybe we can find a way to meet in the middle here, Jane. I’m not expecting you to jump in where Audrey left. I know you don’t know me well enough to feel safe with me. But maybe we can learn to be friends.”
If I were his friend, I’d probably hug him after what he just shared with me, but I’m left not knowing what to do.
Jason slowly guides me down the steps to the kitchen where his mother and Daisy are sitting at the counter doing a puzzle. Vivienne looks at her son with palpable sadness on her face. Her eyes dart between Jason and me.
“Maman,” he says, kissing her on the cheek. “I need to go back to the hospital for another two days. I hope you’ll be able to keep her from getting into any more trouble.”
“Of course I will.” She pulls him into an embrace. “Ne désespére,” she whispers in his ear. Don’t despair.
Jason scoops Daisy up from her kitchen stool and turns her upside down, causing her to shriek and laugh. “Be good to Mommy while I’m gone.” He sits her back on the stool and tells her a secret behind his hand.
“Can I do it too?” she asks.
“Ask Mamère,” he says. He crosses t
he room and puts his hand on my back, helping me into the hallway. He leans towards me and hesitates before reaching out to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. “So I guess I’ll see you in a day or two. I’d like us to spend some time getting to know each other better.”
I can’t imagine how we’ll ever come to that place, but nod my head and manage a smile to show I’m willing to try. I close the door behind him and head back to the kitchen.
Daisy bounces up and down, shaking the stool she’s kneeling on. “Are you ready for your surprise?”
“It depends what it is,” I say.
“Can I tell her, Mamère?”
“Of course, my darling,” Vivienne says.
Daisy throws her arms above her head. “Pampers!”
Vivienne tries to stop herself from laughing. “No, no. Pampering, my bichette.” She turns to me. “I though a spa day might be just what you need.”
“Wow, thank you. That’s so thoughtful,” I say. “Would it be OK to invite Dottie? I’ve put her through the ringer these last few days. She could use a break.”
Vivienne pats my cheek. “Of course. My dear, sweet Audrey, always thinking of everyone else. It’s a lovely idea.”
The solarium is transformed in front of my eyes. Women carry in pedicure baths, manicure and massage tables, baskets of soaps and lotions, towels, makeup, giant hair driers, and tackle boxes full of supplies. Daisy is the first to have her nails partially polished before deserting the process to see the teenage babysitter who had conveniently been dropped off for the day.
“Here you are, Mrs. Gilbert,” a young woman says as she helps me up onto a long massage table. It takes a while to get situated on my stomach without reinjuring my leg, but soon I’m completely relaxed into the massage, listening to the sounds of falling rain on the sound machine next to me.
Dottie is stretched out on a table next to me. “I forgive you now for being such a pain in the rump,” she says while face down in a hot towel.
I’m too relaxed to respond. The masseuse works all the kinks in my neck and shoulders until every ache is soothed away. She kneads her way down my back and takes special care with my wounded leg. The smells from the hot oils are intoxicating. Every time she takes her hands off me I’m afraid it’s over, but then she moves to another spot until every single muscle in my body is loosened and restored.
When I Was Jane Page 16
