by Clea Simon
‘Yeah, where are you?’ He did sound tired, poor boy. ‘I’m at the Science Center, by the café.’
‘Sorry, I thought you were going to call first. I’ll be there in three minutes.’ Dulcie saved her file and pushed her laptop into her bag. ‘Kelly, the media tech, has Stella Roebuck’s laptop. She probably still has Stella hanging around, too.’
As she packed up, she explained again about how panicked the academic had been, and how certain that her paper had been lost through sabotage. Chris, who dealt with undergraduate crises every day, sighed loudly.
‘And she didn’t back up?’ He already knew the facts. This was just his way of venting.
‘Not everyone has a boyfriend like mine, who sets me up with foolproof programming.’ Something about Chris was off, but Dulcie was determined not to let it bother her. He had a right to be tired, and they were both overworked. ‘Hey, Chris?’ She had intended to wait until she saw him face to face. But if it wasn’t a big deal, then she might as well ask him over the phone. ‘Did you see an invite for me in the mail recently? For a moonlight party?’
‘No …’ The way he drew the word out meant he knew there was more coming. Dulcie braced herself. She wasn’t going to get mad. ‘Should I have?’
‘I’m not saying “should”, Chris.’ She worked to keep her voice light. ‘But there is a party tonight that I should, I mean, that I ought to attend. And maybe you’d want to go with me. It’s for the conference.’ She explained, as best she could, the moonlight ritual and the unusual – for their crowd – dress code. ‘So, you didn’t see anything in the mail?’
‘Well, there was one day …’ Dulcie bit her lip. They all made mistakes. This wasn’t a question of trust. ‘It was the strangest thing. I’d slept late, you know, after one of my night shifts.’ Dulcie found herself nodding as she locked the office behind her and headed for the stairs. ‘The mail had come through the slot, and Esmé had gotten to it. Dulcie, she’d shredded a few pieces and chewed them up. There was a flyer from the new dumpling place and a cereal sample. I figured it was the smell of that that set her off. And, yeah, maybe there was something with university letterhead in there, too. I’m sorry, Dulcie. For some reason, it completely slipped my mind.’
‘Maybe she didn’t want me to know about the party.’ Dulcie was joking, but stranger things had happened.
‘Maybe she just wants us both to stay home with her,’ said Chris. ‘It is the full moon and all.’
‘But that’s Tigger …’ She left the thought unfinished. ‘Anyway, this is work,’ she said. ‘And I’m on my way.’
EIGHTEEN
Dulcie didn’t know if she felt more peeved or relieved when she saw Chris waiting for her. A part of her was annoyed, and rightly so, she told herself. Her boyfriend, a fellow grad student, had not told her about a letter on university letterhead. It had been a party invite, but it could have been about a grant or a grading change. He should have known how important it was.
On the other hand, the idea that she had indeed gotten an invite to the department shindig went a long way toward salving her wounded ego. For a while there, she’d begun to feel like everyone in the world – even, as Lloyd had noted, an undergraduate – had been invited except for her. Besides, she knew how busy Chris was. And how distracting Esmé could be. When she saw him sitting in the café area, a plate of chocolate chip cookies, untouched, before him, she couldn’t stay angry. And he did look both tired and sorry.
‘Dulcie, I—’
He stood as she approached, but she cut him off with a kiss.
‘Don’t worry about it, sweetie.’ As they sat, he pushed the plate toward her, completing his redemption. ‘Where did you get these?’
‘They’re opening the café again tomorrow.’ Chris looked quite pleased with himself as he pointed toward the rolled-down gate. ‘I knocked, and they were just coming out with a test batch.’
‘We’d better make sure these are okay, then.’ Dulcie broke off a piece of a cookie. It was still warm. ‘So, you’ll come with me tonight. Right?’ The melting chocolate was irresistible, and she reached for another piece. ‘I guess it’s formal, but you can get away with a jacket and tie.’
‘If you want me to.’
It wasn’t the enthusiastic response she was hoping for, and Dulcie found herself examining him more closely. ‘You don’t look good, Chris.’ In truth, he looked paler than usual, and the rings under his eyes were darker than she’d ever seen. ‘It’s the schedule change. You’re probably running on fumes.’
Her boyfriend nodded. ‘I feel – I don’t know. Not tired exactly …’ He rubbed his hand over his face. ‘Just kind of out of it.’
‘I hope you’re not coming down with something.’ Dulcie leaned over the table. Even after the cookie, his forehead felt warm against her palm.
‘I don’t know.’ His voice was listless. ‘Maybe.’
That settled it. A departmental function was not as important as Chris, especially one that she hadn’t even heard about until today. ‘Forget about this party, sweetie,’ she told him. ‘You should go home tonight. And I should take care of you.’
‘No, you should go.’ He pushed the plate to the side and took her hand in his. ‘This is about the conference, and it’s important for you.’
Dulcie looked at him, torn. On one hand, the party was a work function. She’d told Thorpe that she would track down Marco Tesla there. Plus, she wanted a chance to talk to Renée Showalter. Maybe she could even get Showalter and Barnes together.
On the other hand, Chris looked terrible. Even in the few minutes they’d been sitting in the café, he seemed to have grown paler and his face was now shiny with a thin sheen of sweat.
‘It’s this weather.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s just not good for anyone.’
‘’Tis the season.’ He mustered a smile.
‘You know what Lucy would say about that.’ Chris had met her mom and been the recipient of her beyond New Age theories. ‘Something about the winter solstice draining your solar energies.’
‘I thought the solstice was when the sun started coming back,’ he protested. ‘And isn’t the moon a “source of silver strength” or something?’
‘Wow, I think you remembered that perfectly.’ Dulcie was cheered. Chris couldn’t be that sick if he could poke fun at her mom. ‘But I’m sure she’d have a counter argument, too … that Luna needed your essence right now.’ He raised his eyebrows at that. ‘Or something.’
‘Or maybe I just picked up a bug from all the sneezing and wheezing in the computer labs.’ His voice had softened. ‘I’ll be fine at home. I just don’t feel like myself today.’
NINETEEN
She tried to get him to go home after that, but he was adamant. ‘Look, I trekked down here, and maybe it is something simple that I can fix,’ he said. ‘Besides, my inner clock is so disorganized that I’m probably going to get a second wind any moment now. But you should go home and change.’
He knew his way around the center, better than she did. And so, with a last kiss and a worried swipe at his brow, she left him to prepare for the party.
‘Esmé, are you there?’ As she’d walked home, Dulcie had wondered about their young pet. She’d neglected to ask Chris more about the cat’s strange behavior, but once she got home she was determined to follow up. ‘Esmeralda?’
A small peep greeted her as the round feline bounced down the hall. ‘Esmé, why did you tear up my party invitation?’ Dulcie scooped her up. ‘Why are you being so mean to Chris – and to me?’
‘Mean?’ The question, almost inaudible under the rolling rumble of a purr, was delivered in a voice both soft and innocent. ‘Me?’
‘Yes, you.’ It was hard to cross-examine something so cuddly, but Dulcie forced herself to hold the cat at arm’s length and address those mysterious green eyes directly. ‘Chris said you acted afraid of him. Or angry.’ She paused; the cat said nothing. ‘At any rate, you hissed.’
‘No!’ With a cat-lik
e wail, Esmé writhed to be put down, but Dulcie kept her hold on her.
‘Esmé?’ The green eyes blinked. ‘You hissed at Chris and you destroyed a very important invitation for me.’
‘No!’ The same feline wail, but this time another voice, quieter, sounded in Dulcie’s mind. ‘You should trust me.’
‘So are you saying that Chris was lying?’ The cat twisted again in her grip, and Dulcie had to readjust to make sure she held on. ‘You do understand what I mean by “lying”, don’t you?’
‘I know Chris,’ the voice said, with a noticeable emphasis on the last word. ‘I know what I know.’
Out loud, Dulcie heard a more customary version of this protest. ‘Naow!’ The cat was struggling now, throwing all of her minor bulk into escaping Dulcie’s grasp. ‘And I know not-Chris, too.’ The voice was clearly riled and, with a final twist, Esmé kicked free of Dulcie’s hold and fell to the ground.
‘Esmé!’ Dulcie needn’t have worried. The little tuxedo landed on her feet and scurried away, leaving Dulcie with what seemed to be the harshest insult she could muster.
‘Not-Chris! Not-Chris is evil.’
‘I get it.’ Dulcie called after her, looking at the claw marks on her arm. ‘I’m a bad person, Esmé. I’m not Chris.’
‘No!’ One last howl ended the discussion, and Dulcie went to get dressed.
It was fully dark by the time Dulcie was to meet Mina, but the bright party lights cast her shadow in high relief on the frosty ground as she crossed the cold garden in front of the university building.
‘Dulcie!’ her friend called out. Dulcie shaded her eyes and saw her rise from a bench under a dark holly. ‘I’m here.’
‘Did I keep you waiting?’ Dulcie went to greet her. Mina was agile, even with her cane, but tonight she was holding some sort of shawl tight around her head and neck as well.
‘Not long.’ Mina smiled back. ‘I guess I was excited, I got here early. I haven’t seen Professor Showalter yet, though.’
Dulcie grinned. ‘Ah, so it wasn’t me you were waiting for! Has Marco Tesla shown up yet?’
A quick shake of the head. ‘No, I’m sorry. I will keep my eyes open for him, though.’
‘Thanks,’ said Dulcie. ‘Unless he really did leave town in a huff, he’ll probably be here. It’s early yet. Shall we?’
As they walked toward the entranceway, Dulcie told the younger woman about Esmé destroying her invitation – and about Chris being sick. Her reaction, however, was not what Dulcie would have expected.
‘Funny timing, isn’t it?’ Mina asked as they showed their ID to the guard and stepped into the courtyard. Despite the tradition, the open space was deserted, empty cocktail tables reflecting the blue moonlight, and the two headed toward the other wing of the building. Music, soft and jazzy, could be heard, as well as the sound of laughter, and two rows of French doors – one opening on to the courtyard, the other on to a balcony above – glowed with a warmer illumination.
‘What do you mean?’ Dulcie paused and turned to her friend. The flagstone paving was a little slick in this weather, and Mina was taking it slowly. Above them, someone had opened one of the ballroom’s French doors, and a curtain billowed out, catching the light.
‘With the full moon and all.’ The ground floor opened, and a lone figure stepped out, lighting a cigarette. Dulcie reached for the door, and the two passed into the reception area. The music was louder here, beckoning guests up the stairs, but Dulcie and Mina joined the queue for the coat check first, before moving over to where a student bartender was offering refreshments. ‘It makes you wonder.’
Dulcie accepted a glass of dubious-looking punch and thought about her friend’s words. The month before, she’d gotten worked up about the possibility of a werewolf on the campus after Mina had been attacked. The culprit, it had turned out, was of a much more mundane variety, but Dulcie had never successfully answered some of the questions raised during those few days. There had been a mysterious howling, she recalled. It had been such an eerie sound that it still haunted her dreams. If, that is, she had been dreaming.
‘Why did you say that?’ Mina had settled on the cider and a cookie and looked for a moment as if she didn’t understand Dulcie’s question. ‘About the moon?’ Dulcie elaborated.
‘I’m not really sure.’ Mina sipped her cider and grimaced. She hadn’t, Dulcie realized, known it would be spiked. ‘Maybe I was thinking of seasonal affective disorder or something?’ The younger woman took another sip, then went on. ‘It is funny, though,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure why I thought of it. Does that ever happen to you?’
Dulcie nodded. ‘All the time. In fact …’ She paused. She and Mina had grown close and at times like this, Dulcie sometimes wondered if Mina could also, well, occasionally hear things. Or if she got the occasional message from a feline.
‘I can’t ask,’ she muttered to herself now. ‘I’d sound like Lucy.’
‘Excuse me?’ Mina had been looking out at the courtyard but now looked up.
‘Nothing.’ Dulcie shook her head. There were some familial connections she did not want to evoke. ‘Do you want to go up?’
Mina reached to put down her cup, and Dulcie realized her mistake. Because the younger woman walked with a cane, she couldn’t proceed with both her hands full.
‘I’m sorry.’ Dulcie stopped her. ‘We can wait down here.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ Mina pushed the glass back on to the table. ‘It’s too strong for me. But I will grab one more of these.’ She held up an iced cookie. ‘Want one?’
‘Sure.’ Dulcie abandoned her own punch glass to take the proffered treat, and waited while Mina reached for another for herself. ‘Maybe we are related.’
‘I don’t know about that cider.’ Mina led the way to the staircase. ‘It’s even stronger than the punch, and with this crowd …’
Dulcie nodded her understanding. For all their staid reputation, academics were fond of their booze. ‘This could be interesting.’
The sound of loud laughter could be heard from above. Laughter and the kind of boisterous conversation that made both the women shrink back.
‘Maybe we should stay down here.’ Mina made a joke out of it, but Dulcie was grateful. In truth, the entrance hall was getting crowded and hot. Dulcie thought of that open door on the balcony. The ballroom was undoubtedly overheated to start with.
‘I’d even go out on the patio again,’ she offered. ‘Check out that moon.’
‘Let’s.’ Mina said. ‘I could use some air.’
A lull in arrivals allowed them to retrieve their coats quickly, and they stepped into the cold.
TWENTY
The night hadn’t gotten any less frosty, but after their brief spell inside, Dulcie relished the crisp cold. Besides, she could actually hear the music from here, the party noise fading into the background. Mina, beside her, was humming along softly, when she heard footsteps approaching.
‘Ms Schwartz.’ Dulcie turned to find herself face to face with Martin Thorpe.
‘Mr Thorpe.’ He was, she saw, holding a glass of the punch and already looked a little the worse for wear. ‘Have you met Mina Love?’
‘Of course, Ms Love.’ Thorpe reached forward to take her hand, only to find himself holding on to her cookie. ‘You’re the undergrad who … who …’ He let go and stepped back, swaying a bit.
‘Mina worked with me on the paper I’m presenting.’ Dulcie wasn’t sure what Thorpe had been about to say, but she didn’t want him referencing the brutal attack of a month earlier. ‘Have you been here long?’
‘Yes, yes.’ He gestured with the glass, slopping some over the side. ‘I wanted to oversee the set-up. Make sure everything was in place.’
Mina and Dulcie exchanged a look. ‘I’d say you did a good job,’ said Dulcie, reaching for the glass. ‘I’m sure they appreciate it. And as soon as I find Marco Tesla, I’ll smooth over—’
She didn’t get a chance to finish – or to remove his drink: Thorp
e had turned away and out of her grasp. ‘Look at them all.’ He gestured back toward the lit windows, more of his drink spilling in the process. ‘Do you think any of them know how much work went into this?’ His voice would have been bullhorn loud had they been indoors. Out here in the crisp cold, it was simply loud.
‘Well, some of them have hosted the ELLA in other years.’ Dulcie wanted to be circumspect. ‘But I’m sure that just makes them appreciate your efforts even more.’
‘Huh.’ The rest of the punch went into a shrub. It probably wouldn’t hurt the bush much, Dulcie decided. ‘Like they care.’ Thorpe certainly didn’t need it. ‘Stella Roebuck has left already. Said she had to check on something, but I doubt we’ll see her again.’
That was Dulcie’s cue. ‘Maybe she’s checking on her laptop? Chris went over there to work on it. He’s probably done by now.’ And home asleep, she thought.
Thorpe turned to her, his face bright with hope – or alcohol.
‘I don’t know if he managed to find her paper, though,’ Dulcie felt compelled to admit. ‘But if anyone can, he will.’
‘Exactly.’ Thorpe was addressing the patio again. ‘Why I wanted him. He’s the best.’
Dulcie had painted herself into a corner with that, but Mina seemed to sense her predicament. ‘Look! Is that Paul Barnes over there?’ She pointed over to the far side of the terrace.
It wasn’t the distraction Dulcie would have chosen, but it did serve to get Thorpe’s attention.
‘Where?’ Thorpe was peering into the shadows, his voice a little too loud for discretion.
‘Never mind.’ Dulcie grabbed his hand and pulled him around to face her. Too late, she had seen that Barnes was deep in conversation with a certain red-haired professor. He was leaning in, one hand on her arm, but she shook him off, nearly spilling the punch glass he had pressed into her hand. It looked heated and personal. And as much as she wanted to speak with both of them, she didn’t want to interrupt. She certainly didn’t want to do so with Thorpe as a witness. ‘So tell me what made Marco Tesla change his mind and decide to attend?’
