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I sighed. “I know what this is doing to us,” I repeated, a bit softer this time. “I’m just afraid it might be too late to stop it.”
“Too late to stop what?”
My heart stuttered as I whipped my head around at the sound of Marc’s voice. “Jesus,” I hissed, clutching my chest. “You scared the hell out of me.”
His eyebrows screwed up in confusion. “You’re the one who asked me to meet you here. I apologize I’m a few minutes late. Traffic on Germantown.”
I glanced at Lina, and she looked even more perplexed than Marc. “I’m sorry, honey. I…must have forgot.”
His eyes held mine for a moment, then he smiled as the waitress arrived at our table. “I won’t be staying,” he mentioned to her, then he leaned down and kissed my forehead. “It’s okay. I’ll let you girls enjoy your lunch. Anyway, I have a meeting in forty minutes. I should head back to the office.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, a longing in the pit of my stomach almost made me grab his hand and insist he stay.
His eyes softened. “You two should catch up. I’ll see you tonight,” he replied, planting another kiss on the top of my head. “It was good seeing you, Lina.”
“You too, Marc,” she replied.
The young blonde waitress watched Marc leave, her gaze following my husband until he was out the door. “So what will you be having today?” she said, turning her attention back to me without the slightest awareness of her faux pas.
Lina rolled her eyes and answered for both of us. “We’ll both have the grilled salmon with a side of he’s taken, thank you very much.”
“Excuse me?” the waitress replied, looking genuinely befuddled.
“She means we’ll both have the side salad with vinaigrette,” I interjected, handing her my menu. “Thank you.”
The waitress cast a suspicious glance in Lina’s direction before flashing me a phony smile. “I’ll put the order in now.”
“And a side of fries!” I called out as she walked away, her blonde hair bouncing behind her.
Lina shook her head at my bad habit of adding last-minute items onto our restaurant orders. “I don’t think she heard you.”
I shrugged as I reached for my glass of water. “She heard me. Question is, will she pretend she didn’t?”
“Is that even a question? She’d rather serve Marc a piece of ass than you a plate of fries.”
I tutted at Lina’s comment, though my mind was elsewhere. How could I have forgotten I invited Marc to join us for lunch today?
I thought of my father, and the blank look he got on his face whenever he discovered he’d forgotten something important. It was a look that said, “I know I’m losing my mind. I know it’s only going to get worse. And I’m painfully aware no one here will further embarrass me by acknowledging this.”
I was probably just stressed out by the grief of losing Mira and the knowledge of the things I’d read in Marc’s journal. I’d always been forgetful. Still, I made a mental note to mention this to Dr. Makita, my OB-GYN, when I went in for my follow-up appointment next week. Maybe he could refer me to someone for a cognitive fitness test. Makita would probably laugh at me.
“Hey, don’t tell Mom or Dad I forgot I invited Marc to lunch,” I mentioned casually.
Lina squinted at me for a moment before she nodded. “Right.” She took a sip of water as she pondered this a bit more. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can give you David’s number if you want to try something new.”
Lina was on a first-name basis with her therapist. She’d been seeing him since she graduated CMU, and finally revealed to us she had been date-raped her sophomore year. She started seeing a therapist hoping it would help her work up the courage to report the rape to authorities, but she never did. And a few years later, the statute of limitations ran out.
Though Pennsylvania law allowed for certain exceptions in the statute, Marc was reasonably certain they wouldn’t make an exception for a circumstantial case like Lina’s. But she swore David was the reason she was still sort of sane.
“No, thanks,” I replied, grabbing my sweaty glass of ice water. “I’ll stick to my therapist.”
Quite frankly, I didn’t want to change therapists and suddenly find out I’d already crossed the line into insanity. My therapist, Dr. Harry Segal, repeatedly assured me I was perfectly sane. I’d stick with him for now.
The Wrong Way
When I step out onto the back steps, I’m taken by the warmth of the sun on my skin. I didn’t realize how cold it was inside the house until now. The backyard isn’t shadowed by a thick canopy of trees like the front yard. From the back porch, I can see straight to the garage, which sits farther back and to my right about sixty feet away. I can just make out the front bumper of my car from here.
As I descend the back steps, they creak beneath me, like the soft croaking of a frog. Glancing over my sore shoulder, I glimpse the sorry state of the siding on the backside of the house. I don’t think I have to use my shoulder sling anymore, but I’ll keep it on another day or two. Like my arm, this house could use a little extra support.
The house looks and creaks as if it was built over a hundred years ago. Maybe I should hire someone to help Shadow fix the siding as a thank you for saving me. Somehow, I doubt he’ll accept my help.
I approach the open garage slowly, so as not to startle Shadow as he examines my SUV. “So, what’s the prognosis?” I ask tentatively, hoping desperately he’ll tell me the damage isn’t too bad.
He’s crouched down next to the crumbled passenger side door. “Haven’t had a chance to look under the hood yet,” he says, without looking up. “But judging by the fact she didn’t start up, I’m thinkin’ it ain’t good.”
This news hits me like a slap in the face. But I force myself to push my thoughts of despair aside. Remember the purple elephant, I think. Anything is possible.
I take a few steps closer. “Do you mind if I search for my phone?”
Shadow stands and shoots me a quick, inscrutable look. “Go right ahead,” he says, stepping away from the mangled steel door. “I already looked and couldn’t find it. Wasn’t anywhere in that ditch, neither.”
My stomach tenses at this second dose of bad news. “Are you sure you looked everywhere?”
He doesn’t look at me as he responds. “Like I said, you’re welcome to see for yourself. But be careful near this passenger door. I reckon if you open it, it’s liable to fall right off.” He points at the hinges. “Those hinges peeled clean off like a Band-Aid. I suppose I should just finish the job so I can start fixing it.”
The way he speaks is charming, but the smooth lilt in his voice is both soothing and sexy. Hearing him talk about repairing my car so casually, as if it’s his duty to fix it, only makes him more attractive.
I reach up to brush some dirt off his jaw, and he flinches. “Oh, I’m sorry. You just—You have some dirt on your face. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He reaches up to touch the place my fingertips landed a second ago. “That’s… I’m… I should get to work.”
“Right,” I mutter, stepping back to put some more distance between us. “I’ll just…make us some lunch… I guess.”
Shadow calls out to me as I turn around. “I know how you can get back to the city.”
The mint green classic Ford pickup truck pulls up in front of Shadow’s house at precisely 12:25 p.m., just as he said it would. Apparently, Shadow has a monthly food delivery, which arrives on the third Thursday of every month with fresh meat, eggs, fruits, vegetables, and milk.
“Mr. Beacham will take you into town,” Shadow reminds me as he walks with me toward the truck. “He’ll take you to the filling station, and Dottie will let you use her phone to call someone to pick you up.”
I don’t know why, but I feel a strong reluctance to get closer to the truck. A voice in my head is telling me something isn’t right. It all seems too easy. I don’t feel relieved that this nightmare is coming to an end. I feel a
s if I’m being ushered into a new nightmare.
“Are you okay?” Shadow asks.
I’m standing still in the middle of his front lawn. “How do I know he’s going to take me to town?”
His dark eyebrows scrunch together under the bill of his green ball cap. “What do you mean?” he replies, appearing genuinely confused.
I suck in a deep breath. “Come with me,” I ask, unable to hide my desperation. “Come to town with me, and we can go to the city. Have you ever been to Philly?”
His confusion melts into darkness. “I can’t go there. That’s…not for me.”
What is wrong with me? I’m asking a complete stranger to come with me, a woman who barely remembers her past. Where would we go? My parents’ house? I can’t even remember where I live. He must think I’m insane. God knows I do.
“Forget it,” I say, bowing my head to pull off the canvas sling Shadow made me four nights ago. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s probably just a contusion.”
He takes the sling from my hand reluctantly, but he doesn’t say anything. But the look on his face says enough. He feels it too.
