by Davis Bunn
He carried the paraphernalia through the silent parlor, down the stairs, and dumped it in the growing pile of rubbish. For the first time that day, climbing his stairs did not come easy.
Lucius entered the living room and said, “I think that about does it for today.”
CHAPTER 26
When Sonya phoned to say she had arrived home safely, Asha was preparing her solitary meal. The call had become a favorite ritual for them both. Her visits with Sonya always carried aftereffects. Asha’s mental dialogue continued long after Sonya’s car disappeared into the sunlit distance. When Asha answered, Sonya’s first words were “Have you phoned your mother?”
The vague disquiet she had been feeling all day congealed into a dense ball that filled her middle. “Not yet.”
“Jeffrey will have called her as soon as he departed. You need to express your concerns.”
“I know. It’s just . . .”
“My darling, if Jeffrey is the only voice your mother hears, things will only grow worse. The two of them will continue to scheme behind your back.”
“You’re right.” Asha pushed her half-completed salad to one side. “I hate arguing with Mom.”
“Even the most experienced of counselors must concede when their efforts are not bearing fruit. You must call her, Asha.”
“I will.” She pressed the hand not holding the phone into her middle. “How was your trip?”
“Disturbing.”
“In what way?”
“Asha, my strongest impression of last night is that Lucius is very much alone.”
“Luke.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“His name is Luke.”
Sonya went silent. Asha found this very surprising. Her grandmother came from a long line of Middle Eastern diplomats. She rarely criticized when a significant pause would do. But what Sonya could possibly find wrong in Asha referring to the patient by his actual name was beyond her.
Sonya finally said, “I speak to you now both as your grandmother and as a woman with much hard-earned wisdom. That young man desperately needs a friend. Far more than he needs a therapist. And because of that, I decided to meet him for coffee before returning to Los Angeles.”
Asha pulled up a stool and seated herself. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“I started to tell you as I was leaving. But your Dino phoned, and I decided it could wait. Was I wrong to do this?”
Asha resisted the urge to say that Dino was not her anything. “I’ll have to come back to you on that.”
“Thank you for even considering it.” There was a long silence, then, “I also think you should contemplate the possibility that Luke Benoit is telling you the truth.”
Asha was very glad she was seated. “You do not mean, accept that he is telling what he believes to be the truth.”
“No, my darling.” Sonya described the man’s initial lack of comprehension when studying her laptop computer.
“He said in the hospital he did not remember anything from before his latest attempt,” Asha recalled. “That’s why I drove him home.”
“And yet you think he has somehow fabricated this entire story? Really?”
“Nana . . . Luke could have been working on this for weeks. Longer.” Asha related what she had discovered about Jessica Wright. “This suggests a new level of calculated subterfuge.”
Sonya again responded with silence.
Asha said, “You might as well go ahead and tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You are suggesting that after he spent so much time developing this new concept, he then tried to commit suicide?”
“What else could it be?”
“Asha, you are the expert, not me. I am simply suggesting that you consider all options.”
Asha’s response was halted by the memory of how Luke had dressed for dinner at Dino’s. Luke’s wardrobe was mostly limited to jeans and T-shirts with provocative statements. Yet for dinner that evening Luke had worn chinos and a white button-down shirt and Topsiders and dark socks. Asha tried to recall ever having seen him in anything ironed before.
“Asha? Are you there?”
She refocused on the conversation. “You know who Jessica Wright is?”
“My darling, I live in Los Angeles, not the other side of the moon. One of the wealthiest women in California? Of course I know.”
“Then you also know that to have him contact Jessica Wright for any reason, much less with this outlandish tale, could lead to a multitude of disasters.”
Sonya’s response was slow in coming. “Which is why it may be crucial for Luke to have a friend he trusts.”
“That makes no sense at all, Nana.”
“Think on it for a moment, please. Luke Benoit is going to contact Jessica Wright. It will happen. You cannot stop it. And the more you object, the more you will drive a wedge between this young man and yourself.”
CHAPTER 27
Lucius returned to the guesthouse burdened by far more than the cardboard box of records he carried. He wished it were simply possible to dismiss Luke Benoit’s previous existence. But this was not some suit of clothes he had been given on loan. He was not simply wearing the man’s skin. The stash of illegal drugs was only the most troubling of any number of issues. His issues. His history. It shadowed him throughout dinner. For once, he found no joy in eating. As he pushed the food around his plate, it occurred to him that he had come across no personal correspondence. Perhaps it was all on the man’s laptop or phone, but he had not located a password for either. The tenants had not been able to help him. He made a mental note to ask Asha.
After dinner he began sorting the bundles of bank statements and legal documents. But the vague tendrils of dismay continued to pester him. He put it down to unaccustomed physical fatigue and decided to call an early night.
He was packing away the documents when the tsunami struck.
A huge black wave crashed down on him, an assault of woe and remorse. In his weakest moments, struggling against a rapidly failing body and missing Jessica with every fiber of his being, Lucius had never known anything so bleak. Not even that final walk along the empty beach could compare.
Lucius collapsed to the floor by the foot of his bed. The papers from the overturned soapbox were strewn across the carpet. He was incapable of moving. Every breath was a futile effort. One thought surfaced, strong as an echo resounding through his dismal cave. Even death would be better than this.
* * *
“Sonya? It’s Lucius. I hope I’m not calling too late.”
“No, of course not. Wait and let me turn on the light.”
“I woke you. I’m so sorry. I’ll call back—”
“Don’t be silly. It’s scarcely gone eleven. I’ve just lain down. All right. Tell me what’s the matter.”
“Did I say something was wrong?”
“You didn’t need to. You call an hour before midnight and your voice sounds like the grave. What is it?”
“That’s just the problem. I have no idea. I came back from . . .” Luke felt as though every word had to be dredged from the bottom of an abyss. “I should never have called.”
“Luke. Lucius. Stop. I am here. I gave you my number because I feared you might find yourself facing just such an hour as this. Now start at the beginning and tell me what has happened.”
* * *
As he spoke, Lucius feared he was making a terrible mistake, trusting this woman with such dark confessions. Lucius recalled sitting on Dino’s porch, telling the three of them who he was, who he had been. What he had revealed to Dino and Sonya and her granddaughter was impossible. It could not have happened. It could not be believed. Impossible, too, was his need to speak with this stranger in his moment of abject helplessness. He had spent his entire life getting by, and doing so alone. There was no need for this call, none at all. To all these doubts he only had one answer. He trusted this woman.
When Lucius finished describing his day, he sat there on the
carpet, his back against the wall next to the bedside table. He had no problem whatsoever with Sonya’s silence.
When she finally spoke, it was to ask, “You will take advice?”
“Of course.”
“There is no ‘of course’ here. Sometimes just speaking is enough. Just having a listening ear you can turn to.”
For some reason the words caused his eyes to burn. “I would appreciate anything you have to say.”
“Very well. First you must begin to watch your diet. Your complexion did not look healthy to me. I suspect you eat far too much junk food. Do you exercise?”
He recalled the detritus in the car and the box of drug paraphernalia. “Probably not.”
“Eat vegetarian and organic. Have smoothies at least one meal each day.”
“A smoothie is what exactly?”
There followed another of those silences Lucius was coming to recognize. Part surprise at his question, part accepting further evidence that he was who he said, and what he said. Sonya replied, “Smoothies are fruit, vegetables, natural additives, all blended into a drink. Ask at the front desk for the nearest juice bar.”
“Tomorrow,” he promised.
“Next, call my Asha. Tomorrow. See her regularly. She will no doubt advise you to take medicines—”
“No drugs,” Lucius declared. When Sonya did not respond, he continued, saying, “My mind was the only portion of my previous existence that worked properly. Even in the worst moments, I took nothing stronger than aspirin.”
Sonya’s words slowed. “And yet you yourself say that this is a new existence. A new era.”
Lucius had no idea what to say, other than “I loathe the idea of taking drugs.”
She sighed. “Shall I go on?”
“Please.”
“Very well. Here is the most important advice of all. Be gentle with yourself. Forgiveness begins in the mirror. Do one thing simply to take pleasure from each day. Make a list of what brings you joy.”
“I’m good at lists,” Lucius said. “But this one might well defeat me.”
“Make a list,” she repeated. “Whatever you choose to do that day, see it as a reward.”
“For what?”
“Exactly. That is the question you must ask. What have you done to deserve this glimpse of joy.” She gave that a beat, then added, “Now I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“Careful, Luke or Lucius or whatever name you wish to claim tonight. It is very dangerous to offer yourself so freely to a woman of the East.”
“I trust you.”
“Do you?”
He smiled for the first time that night and repeated, “Anything.”
“I want you to come to church with me next Sunday.”
He drew the phone out so as to stare at the device. Then, “Church? Really? Where?”
“Los Angeles. Now, do you see how dangerous it can be to agree before you hear the request? You will need to travel down the day before, ask my granddaughter for details. She must agree to allow you to come. And you, my young man, must make her do just that.”
CHAPTER 28
Since breaking up with Jeffrey, Asha had only been out on two dates, both of which had been awful. She knew it was silly to look forward to this evening as much as she did. She tried to tell herself that the invitation was simply Dino’s way of paving over a difficult moment and resuming their harmonious relationship. Their professional relationship.
Even so, she spent over half an hour trying on different outfits before finally selecting a black Versace she had last worn to a reception celebrating her father’s promotion to head of surgery. She avoided even looking at the frocks Jeffrey had given her. She wanted no hint of that man along this evening.
Dino suggested they meet at the restaurant, as he would be coming straight from the hospital. Asha was mildly disappointed, but at the same time glad for a sort of boundary to their time together. There were so many ways this evening could go wrong. And yet she felt an adolescent flurry of nerves the closer she came to Novo, a restaurant in Old Town that Asha had never visited. As she pulled up, Dino rose from a patio table. Which meant he had been looking for her, and which Asha thought was just so totally great. Dino smiled at her approach, the dark features and the strength and the natural goodness were highlighted by the patio’s soft lighting. She returned the smile, thinking that candlelight was made for the glow in Dino’s eyes.
Dino kissed her cheek and insisted upon holding her chair. When he resumed his seat, Dino asked the waiter to give them a moment, then said, “Thank you so much for agreeing to this. I know it must seem like a disaster waiting to happen.”
Asha realized aloud, “You’re nervous.”
“Oh, no. I left nervous behind several hours ago.” Up close his smile looked strained. “Borderline terrified, more like.”
Asha found herself calming down. “I almost called and canceled.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Am I allowed to say you look lovely?”
“Thank you, Dino.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
“A glass of wine would be very nice, thank you.” Asha was a professional observer. So much of her training centered upon seeing what others assumed remained hidden. Asha found herself retreating inside the same serenity that had helped her through countless therapy sessions. She did not like or dislike her internal state. It simply was. Dino radiated a tension that had no concrete foundation in logic. He was so worked up his hands trembled. He started to speak, then caught himself and swallowed whatever was on his mind. It was the sort of anxiety she would expect from a first-time patient, one who held an enormous secret that they both wanted to share and were terrified. . .
Dino endured her silence for as long as he could, then nervously asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No. Not at all. It’s just . . . I know you said this was a date.”
“Isn’t that what you want? Because we could just—”
“No, Dino. I want this very much.”
“You do?”
“I’m delighted to be here with you.” She spoke slowly, choosing her words with great care. “But I also want our professional world to remain a part of this evening. And every evening we might have together in the future. It’s who we both are.”
She could actually see it happen. Dino’s nervousness simply evaporated. His posture improved. He smiled, and this time he meant it. “I like that, Asha.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, Asha. I like that very much. We’re passionate about our work. Being on a date shouldn’t change that.”
What she wanted to say was that she loved how he spoke her name just then. But now was not the time. So she filed that away for a later moment, almost giddy from the prospect of more such moments coming her way. “I’m so glad.”
* * *
From that point the dinner took on a rhythm and course all its own. Like a melody Asha had hummed for years, a favorite tune that rose from her heart whenever she was happy. As she was right now.
They talked about Dino’s life since the divorce, only this evening the pain did not crease his features. “I retreated from the town and the world we had known as a couple. I had no choice. Anywhere I went in this town, I ran the risk of running into the two of them. My best friend and my ex. Time I spent with friends seemed stained by everything they weren’t saying to me.”
“So you moved to Morro Bay.”
“A friend’s mother was selling the place. It needed a huge amount of work. The renovations gave me an outlet.” He smiled at passersby he did not actually see. “In a strange sort of way I found the constricted nature of the place very comforting. I walk down the alley and enter my home, and it’s just me. None of the troubles I knew before can follow me. Even the commute has helped.”
“I’m glad it was there for you,” she said. And she was. Really. But she found herself thinking
that she would never, not in a million years, ever consider moving into that cluttered bachelor’s pad, especially when he’d moved there to recover from a divorce. That meant their relationship would require yet another transition . . .
Asha froze in the process of lifting her glass. Her face flamed at the realization of where her thoughts had taken her.
Thankfully, Dino was too lost in his own revelations to notice. “The best thing I can say about that former relationship is I’m just so glad we didn’t have children.”
She started to ask if he ever wanted a family. But the course of her revelations kept the words unspoken. Instead, she smiled brightly and said, “Should we have a look at the dessert menu?”
Over a shared slice of key lime pie, conversation flowed naturally to her own recent relationships. Asha replied, “There is no recent anything, I’m afraid.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” Dino said. Then caught himself. His face turned so red, not even the candlelight could hide the flush. “That was a terrible thing to say.”
“Horrid,” Asha agreed. “And utterly unprofessional.”
They shared a smile. Dino said, “Pretend I didn’t utter a word.”
“I suppose I can do that.”
Over coffee Dino turned very serious indeed. “Can I ask what you intend to do with your future?”
The question caught her completely by surprise. “Assuming my thesis is accepted and I pass my exams?”
Dino held up both hands. His fingers were surprisingly long and seemed to move in the flickering light, as though he was playing a melody upon the night. “Asha, I have reviewed the preliminary draft of your thesis. It would be speaking out of turn to say anything. But I don’t care. Your work is first-rate.”
Her voice rose a full octave. “Really?”
“Yes, really. You have some minor issues to cover. Do that, and you will be graduating with honors.”
“What about my exams?”
“Exams. Hah! You know the material. You are an outstanding therapist.”
“Not, I ‘will become’ one.”
