Choose Me

by Tess Gerritsen

  That night she dreamed about fire. About a woman standing among the flames, her hair alight, her mouth agape in a shriek. The woman reached out in agony, and Taryn wanted to save her, to drag her from the pyre and beat out the flames, but she was paralyzed. She could only watch as the woman burned, as her body blackened and shriveled to ash.

  She jolted awake to the wail of a distant ambulance, and for a moment she lay exhausted, her heart still pounding from the nightmare. Slowly she registered the sound of traffic and the glare of daylight in her window. Then she glanced at the bedside clock and bolted out of bed.

  She was late for Professor Dorian’s class, but Cody had promised to save a seat for her. She spotted Cody slouched in his usual seat at the far end of the seminar table, his Red Sox baseball cap pulled low over his brow. As she eased quietly into the room, the snap of the door’s latch made a few heads turn to look at her. Professor Dorian paused in the middle of his discussion, and she felt his gaze follow her as she made her way around the table to where Cody was sitting. The brief silence magnified the scrape of Cody’s chair, the hiss of his down jacket as he pulled it off the empty chair beside him.

  “Where were you?” Cody whispered as she sat down. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to class.”

  “I overslept. What’d I miss?”

  “Just some overview stuff. I took notes. I’ll give you a copy later.”

  “Thanks, Cody. You’re the best.” And she meant it. What would she do without Cody, who was always ready to share his notes and his lunch? She really should try to be nicer to him.

  Professor Dorian was still looking at her, but not in an annoyed way. Rather, it was as if she were some weird forest creature who’d wandered into his class and he didn’t know what to make of her. Then, as if he’d suddenly remembered where he was, he launched back into the lecture and turned to the chalkboard, where four pairs of names were already scrawled.

  Tristan and Isolde

  Jason and Medea

  Abelard and Heloise

  Romeo and Juliet

  “So far in this course, we’ve talked about four pairs of doomed lovers,” Professor Dorian said. He turned to face them again, and for a moment she thought he was staring straight at her. “Last week it was Abelard and Heloise. Now it’s time to move on to another pair whose story ends in tragedy. And like Jason and Medea, the story of Aeneas and Dido involves betrayal.” He wrote the lovers’ names on the chalkboard. “By now, you all should have read The Aeneid.” He looked around to see a few nods, a few noncommittal shrugs. “Okay, good. Who wants to comment?”

  There was the usual silence; no one ever wanted to be the first to speak up.

  “I think it’s pretty cool that Aeneas is the guy who founded Rome,” said Jessica. “I always thought it was founded by two guys who were suckled by wolves as babies. I never knew it was Aeneas.”

  “That’s according to Virgil, anyway,” said Professor Dorian. “He wrote that Aeneas was a Trojan prince who defended his city against the Greeks. After the fall of Troy, he flees to Italy and becomes the first hero of Rome. Now that you’ve read The Aeneid, do you all agree he’s a hero?” Dorian glanced around the room. “Anyone?”

  “Obviously he’s a hero,” Jason said. “The Trojans thought so.”

  “What about his relationship with Queen Dido? The fact he abandoned her and she committed suicide? Does that influence your opinion of him?”

  “Why should it?” Luke said. “Dido didn’t have to kill herself. That was her choice and hers alone.”

  “And Aeneas had more important things to deal with,” said Jason. “He had a kingdom to build. His men needed a leader. And anyway, Tyre wasn’t even his homeland. He didn’t owe it any loyalty.”

  With mounting irritation, Taryn listened to her classmates justify the betrayal of Dido. Suddenly she couldn’t stay silent any longer.

  “He’s not a hero!” she blurted. “He’s a narcissistic asshole, just like Abelard. Just like Jason. I don’t care if he went on to found the city of Rome. He abandoned Dido, which makes him a traitor.”

  The classroom went silent.

  Then Jessica let out a mocking laugh. She never missed a chance to challenge Taryn in class, and as usual she went straight for the jugular. “Are we back to your old gripe, Taryn? It’s the same thing you said about Jason and Abelard. You’re obsessed with men betraying women.”

  “That’s exactly what Aeneas did,” Taryn pointed out. “He betrayed her.”

  “Why are you stuck on that theme? Did some guy do it to you?”

  Cody put his hand on Taryn’s arm, a touch that said: Let it slide. She’s trying to provoke you. Of course he was right. She’d known girls like Jessica all her life, privileged girls who were handed everything they wanted. Girls who’d never seen the inside of a Goodwill store because they bought all their clothes brand new. Girls who used to bring their friends into the ice cream shop where she worked every summer, just so they could stand around, smirking, as she served them.

  Oh yes, Taryn knew the Jessicas of the world, but they didn’t know her.

  Cody’s hand tightened around her arm. She took a deep breath and silently settled back in her chair.

  “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” said Jessica, looking around the classroom. “That’s Taryn’s thing. Women getting betrayed.”

  “Let’s move on,” said Professor Dorian.

  “Maybe it’s personal for her or something,” Jessica said. “Because it sure seems like she can’t stop talking about men who—”

  “I said, let’s move on.”

  Jessica pouted. “I was only making a point.”

  “Leave Taryn out of it. She has a right to her opinion, and I’m glad she spoke up. Now let’s get back to The Aeneid.”

  As he led the discussion in a different direction, Taryn focused on the man who’d come to her defense. She knew almost nothing about him. Not his background or his personal life or even what the R in Jack R. Dorian stood for. For the first time she noticed how tired he looked today, perhaps a little depressed, as if these classroom squabbles had worn him down. He wore a wedding ring, so she knew he was married. Did he have a fight this morning with his wife, his kids? He struck her as one of the good guys—not a man like Aeneas or Abelard or Jason, but someone who’d stand by the woman he loved.

  The way he’d stood by her today. She should thank him for it.

  After the seminar ended and the other students filed out, Taryn lingered in the classroom, watching as he gathered his papers. “Professor Dorian?”

  He looked up, surprised that she was still there. “What can I do for you, Taryn?”

  “You already did it. Thanks for what you said in class. That thing with Jessica.”

  He sighed. “It was getting pretty hostile.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what I’ve done in this class to make her dislike me, but I seem to irritate her just by breathing. Anyway, thank you.” She turned to leave.

  “Oh. I almost forgot.” He shuffled through a stack of papers and pulled out the essay she’d written last week, about Jason and Medea. “I passed these out at the beginning of class. Before you got here.”

  She stared at the A-plus scrawled in red at the top. “Wow. Really?”

  “The grade is well deserved. I can see you put a lot of emotion into what you wrote.”

  “Because I really did feel it.”

  “A lot of people feel things, but not everyone can express those feelings as well as you do. After what you said in class today, I’m looking forward to your paper on The Aeneid.”

  She looked up at him, and for the first time she registered the fact that he had green eyes, the same color as Liam’s. He was not as tall as Liam, nor as broad shouldered, but his eyes were kinder. For a moment they just looked at each other, both of them hunting for something to say but not coming up with a single word.

  Abruptly he broke off his gaze and snapped his briefcase shut. “I’ll see you at the museum ne
xt week.”

  CHAPTER 6

  TARYN

  “Goddamn, he gave you an A-plus?” Cody said as they walked across the quad. “I worked my ass off on that paper, and I only got a B-plus.”

  “Maybe you didn’t feel the theme deeply enough.”

  “Star-crossed lovers?” Cody stared straight ahead. “Oh, I feel it well enough,” he muttered.

  She was still beaming, still high. Professor Dorian’s praise was like jet fuel pumped straight into her veins, and she was bursting to share the triumph. She pulled out her cell phone to call her mother, even though Brenda had probably just crawled into bed after her night shift at the nursing home. Only then did she notice that her mother had sent an email. The subject line made her stop dead in the center of the quad.

  Time for you to come home?

  She opened the email. It was several paragraphs long. As Cody watched her, as other students streamed past her like schools of fish veering around a stone pillar, Taryn read and reread what her mother had written. No, her mom couldn’t possibly mean this.

  “Taryn?” said Cody.

  She dialed Brenda’s number, but the call went straight to voice mail, which of course it would. When her mother went to bed after her shift, she always muted her phone.

  “What’s wrong?” said Cody as she hung up.

  Taryn looked at him. “My mom says if I apply to grad school, it has to be in Maine.”

  “Why?”

  “The money. It’s always about the money.”

  “Is that such a disaster? Going back to Maine?”

  “You know it is! Liam and I had it all worked out. We’re staying in Boston. It’s what we planned.”

  “Maybe his plans have changed.”

  “Don’t,” she commanded.

  Taken aback by her glare, Cody fell silent. He glanced up at the clock tower and said, timidly, “We’re, um, going to be late for class.”

  “You go. I’ll see you later.”

  “What about those essay questions? I thought we were going to work on them together.”

  “Yeah, sure. Tonight. Come over to my place.”

  He brightened. “I’ll bring a pizza.”

  “Okay,” she muttered, but she wasn’t looking at him; she was still staring at her phone. She didn’t even notice when he walked away.

  Her mother sounded exhausted on the phone. It was four in the afternoon, and for a nurse’s aide who worked the graveyard shift at Seaside Nursing Home, it was the equivalent of the crack of dawn, but Taryn couldn’t wait any longer to speak to her.

  “You don’t seem to understand how important this is,” Taryn said. “I can’t go back to Maine.”

  “And what are you going to do after you graduate?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m thinking about grad school. My grades are good enough, and I’m sure I could get into some school here.”

  “There are perfectly good schools here in Maine.”

  “But I can’t leave Boston.” I can’t leave Liam was what she was thinking.

  “Not everything we want in life is possible, Taryn. I’ve tried to keep up with your tuition payments, but you can’t get blood from a stone. It’s been hard enough for me, keeping up with this second mortgage. Now I’ve got nothing left to borrow against, and I’m already working double shifts. You have to be sensible.”

  “This is my future we’re talking about.”

  “I am talking about your future. About all these loans you’ll have to pay back someday, and for what? Just so you can brag you went to some fancy college in Boston? What about my retirement? I haven’t saved a penny for myself.” Brenda sighed. “I can’t do this for you anymore, honey. I’m tired. Since your father left, it seems all I ever do is work.”

  “It won’t be this way forever. I promised I’d take care of you.”

  “Then why don’t you come home? Come home now and live with me. You can get whatever education you need up here. Maybe get a part-time job to help pay for it all.”

  “I can’t go back to Maine. I need to be—”

  “With Liam. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s all about being with him. Being in the same city, the same school.”

  “A degree from a good school makes a difference.”

  “Well, his family can afford it. I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “We will someday.”

  Another sigh, this one deeper. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Taryn?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Betting your whole future on a boy? You’re so much smarter than that. Didn’t you learn anything when your father walked out? We can’t rely on them. We can’t rely on anyone but ourselves. The sooner you wake up and—”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “What’s going on, honey? There’s something going on. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I just don’t want to go back to Maine.”

  “Has something happened between you and Liam?”

  “Why do you think that? You have no reason to think that.”

  “He’s not the only boy in the world, Taryn. It’s not healthy to spend all your time mooning over him, when there are so many other—”

  “I have to go,” Taryn cut in. “Someone’s at the door.”

  She hung up, deeply rattled by the call. She desperately wanted to talk to Liam, but she’d already left three voice mails on his phone, and he hadn’t called back yet. Outside it was starting to snow, but she couldn’t stand being cooped up inside her tiny apartment for even another minute. She needed to take a walk and clear her head.

  She didn’t think about where she was going; her feet automatically took her there, following the same route she’d traveled so many times before.

  It was dark by the time she reached Liam’s apartment building. Standing on the sidewalk, she looked up at his windows. His neighbors’ lights were on, but his windows were dark. She knew his last class of the day had ended hours ago, so where was he? She didn’t dare enter his apartment now because he might come home any minute and catch her there, but she was so starved for a glimpse of him she couldn’t leave. Not yet.

  Right across the street was a juice bar. She walked in, ordered a glass of acai berry, and claimed a seat by the window. Through the veil of lightly falling snow, she kept watch on his building. It was now dinnertime, and she thought of all the evenings they’d spent together in his apartment, gorging on take-out food. Pad thai from Siam House. Burgers and fries from Five Guys. They’d eat at his coffee table while they watched TV, and afterward they’d slip out of their clothes. Into his bed.

  I miss you. Do you miss me?

  The temptation to call him was so powerful that she couldn’t resist it. Once again, her call went straight to his voice mail. He was busy studying, of course, because he was determined to get into law school, and he must be preparing for the LSAT. That was why he’d turned off his phone.

  She ordered a second glass of acai berry juice and slowly nursed it along, making it last so they wouldn’t ask her to leave the shop. Liam was probably studying in the library; maybe that was where she should go. She’d pick a table on the first floor near the restrooms, and she’d spread out all her books and work on that paper for Professor Dorian’s class. Liam was bound to notice her when he walked past to the restroom. He’d be impressed by how focused she was, how dedicated to her classwork. So much more than just the poor hometown girl he’d known since middle school. No, she was someone bound for bigger things, someone who was his perfect match in every way.

  Her cell phone rang. Liam. Her hands were shaking as she answered: “Hello?”

  “I thought we were studying at your place tonight. You’re not answering your buzzer.”

  She slumped back in the chair with disappointment. It was only Cody. “Oh God. I forgot about it.”

  “Well, I’m standing outside your building now, and I’ve got the pizza. Where are you?”

  “I can’t meet you tonight. Can we do it anot
her time?”

  “But we were gonna go over those essay questions for Dorian’s class. I brought all my books and notes and everything.”

  “Look, I’ve got a lot of things on my mind. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  The silence that followed was leaden with disappointment. She pictured him hulking outside her building in his mountainous down jacket, his baseball cap powdered with fallen snow. How long had he been standing in that bitter cold, waiting for her?

  “I’m sorry, Cody. I really am.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “Okay.”

  “Talk tomorrow?”

  “Sure, Taryn,” he said and hung up.

  She looked across the street at Liam’s window; it was still dark. A little longer, she thought. I’ll sit here just a little longer.

  AFTER

  CHAPTER 7

  FRANKIE

  The boyfriend’s name is Liam Reilly, and he seems like just the sort of boy every mother hopes her daughter will bring home. He is blond and strapping, clean shaven, and neatly dressed in chinos and an oxford shirt. As Frankie and Mac step into his apartment, he asks politely if they would like coffee. Too few young people these days seem to respect cops, and even fewer would extend the courtesy of offering them coffee. As the three sit down in Liam’s living room, Frankie notices a stack of law school brochures on the coffee table—yet another detail that impresses her. He is nothing like the unkempt musicians her twin daughters have recently dragged home, boys with no obvious ambitions beyond landing their next gigs. Boys who are afraid to look Frankie in the eye because they know she is a cop. Why couldn’t her girls bring home a Liam instead? He is a doctor’s kid, courteous and articulate, and he tells them he’s already been accepted to two law schools. He has no arrest record, not even an outstanding parking ticket, and he seems genuinely shocked by the news of his ex-girlfriend’s death.

  “You had no inkling that Taryn would kill herself?” Frankie asks him.