He needed to change the subject. Maybe it was selfish, but he couldn’t do any more of this right now. “Can we talk about home? About you coming home.” An expression of fear crossed her face, and then she erased it with something neutral. He counted a full seven seconds before she spoke.
“Soon it will be four weeks since we’re pretty sure things started changing, and then we’ll make a plan,” she said. “Dr. Tsang, you know how he is—so not arrogant. He admits they have nothing to go on as far as guidelines. It’s a little like amnesia but not very much, and they don’t know much about amnesia either. He just tells me we’ll know what to do when the time comes. Does he remind you of Dylan a little bit?”
David was surprised to realize she was right. The differences in accent and appearance had kept him from seeing that his son and the doctor shared some qualities—humility and humor included.
“I feel like I’ve known him forever. He might be part of this huge breakthrough in medicine, but he’ll sit and talk with me about what kind of cats I want to get. Or ask for my advice on prenatal care.”
“I didn’t know he was married.”
“Newly married. But he’s very painstaking. As you can imagine, he wants to know everything about the prenatal environment. Pre-conception.”
They both smiled. After he and Kate decided it was time to have a baby, she got pregnant the following week and they spent the next nine months in a frenetic scramble to be ready and equipped. They didn’t know anything. They sneered at the expensive equipment. Their first stroller cost seventeen dollars. It turned out it was really only for babies who could sit up, so they carried Dylan everywhere for five months. “I almost forgot!” He stood and headed for the door. “I left something in the car. I’ll go grab it.” He ran to the car and returned, breathless, with a small black and white box.
“A former student at the store spent some time making the phone company cough up a good number.” He turned the phone on and showed her. “What do you think?”
“It’s a good number. Easy. And the phone is so…lovable. Even the box is beautiful. Don’t throw it out.” He shut the phone down and then turned it on, showing her the almost hidden controls. He touched the photo icon.
“Look,” she said. “You took a bunch of photos of computers for me. And here you are, showing off an incredibly thin laptop.”
“Some guy that writes for the Times accidentally recycled it with his newspapers right after he bought the first model.” David explained that instead of a manual for the phone, there was a built-in guide. “And you can always go online, where you’ll find your question has been asked and answered, though sometimes rudely.”
He helped her pick a ring tone and they called each other. She left texts for Dylan and Jack after he explained the current status of voicemail.
“When we were young, we would have killed for voice mail, even answering machines,” Kate said. “Anything but the mysterious, unblinking black phone. Or green. Maybe it was green.”
Jane came to the door, clearly expecting someone else or at least not him. She eyed him with a tight, formal expression. “Hello, David.” She looked quickly up and down the street and moved aside to let him into the entryway. Her arms were folded and he didn’t even try to edge further into the house.
He stood there. He had no idea how to begin.
She took the lead. “I hear that Kate is much better. I’m very happy for you. One of the researchers even used the word miracle.”
She waited, perfectly rigid and polite.
“Please don’t treat me like one of your clients,” he said. They were still standing in the hall.
“Do you think I feel this way around a client?” Her voice was flat now.
“Oh my God. I am so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” Of course she was angry. How could she not be? And sad. He had broken her. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and pulled her against him. “Jane, I’m sorry.”
She lowered her arms to let her body relax against his, but only for a few seconds before she pulled away.
“Give me some time,” he said again. “We’ll figure this out.”
She brightened a bit when he said “we” but sank again as if she realized that neither of them knew what he meant by we. She took two small steps back.
“I’ll leave right now if you want, but I’d really like to stay for a while and talk. I know you’re hurt that I didn’t call you, and I understand why. I don’t know how to convey what the last ten days have been like.” She didn’t object. “It’s felt more like three days.”
He headed inside the house, and she followed him to the living room, where they sat facing each other, her expression impartial.
“You’re on my mind a lot, but always with the horrifying footnote that I’ve hurt you. I would have bet everything that I would never willingly hurt you.”
“How does Kate seem?”
He didn’t see any way not to answer. “Amazingly like herself. Though I think she’s pretty traumatized.”
“Of course.” She straightened out a corner of the area rug. “And it went well with the boys?”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Yes, that was some reunion. That was good.” He didn’t know what she was waiting for.
Finally she said, “Do you know if you’re going to tell her about us?”
Why did he make her ask? He was not good at this. “Of course I will. For many reasons. Not the least of which is that about a hundred people already know. I’m just not sure when or how.”
“How do you think she’ll react?”
“When we were married—I mean, before she got sick—I felt certain that if I ever cheated, she would leave. But obviously, this situation is different.”
“Different. Yes, it is,” she said, and she almost smiled at the understatement.
Three staff members walked by David’s car—it was shift change—and looked at him curiously, but he needed to sit for a while longer. He couldn’t execute a quick transition from one woman to another, and he wondered how adulterers managed it. Maybe that was the part they liked: the proximity, the near slapstick timing of the scheduling. He sat until some necessary interval had passed and then went inside, where he found Kate in her room, lying on the twin bed reading a Jane Austen novel he hadn’t heard of.
“It’s comforting sometimes to read something old. My remedial reading is as grim as you promised.” She smiled and motioned for him to lie down beside her, then lay on her side facing him while she read on.
Abruptly, she lowered the book. “What did you do without me?”
“You mean…”
“You know what I mean.”
“Mostly I neutered myself.”
“You didn’t even masturbate?”
He smiled at the naïve question. “Well, that, yes.”
“Did you think of me?”
“Not usually. It was too painful.”
“Who then?”
“Drew Barrymore once. Kate Winslett more than once.”
She laughed. “I don’t believe you.”
“The Swedish one a few times.” Of course she didn’t believe him. Did she really think he would answer these questions?
“Ingrid?” she asked doubtfully.
“No, the daughter, Isabella, but her younger self.”
“She’s not that old.”
“Sorry, didn’t work. I had to go with her Blue Velvet self.”
“I can’t picture what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t see it. You had to go deliver a baby. I saw it with Don and Martha. They hated it.” He was babbling, unnerved. He was in some theatre of the absurd where he didn’t want to be unfaithful to Jane. This was nuts. He was lying here with someone who was still his wife, and who he would probably learn to desire again. Yet, in his mind, she was forbidden.
She studied him seriously for a while and then closed her eyes. She rolled over, too close to the edge of the bed, and he pulled her back to him b
efore he dozed off too.
Later at home, David began writing a retroactive diary. He put it all in: bills she didn’t pay, losing her car, the diagnosis, the terror, the end of sex, her escapes from the house, the caretaker twins. People who were sick. People who had died. Unexpected divorces. Happy occasions like weddings, graduations, and new babies. He hoped it was okay to tell her so much. After all, she wasn’t a starving plane crash survivor who needed to be carefully and gradually fed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Did you tell Mom about Jane?” Dylan asked out of nowhere. They were having a beer on the back patio before leaving to see Kate.
“Good question,” Jack said, in a pleasant tone. “And does Jane know about Mom?”
“Jane knows about Mom being better,” David answered. “I haven’t told Mom anything yet.”
Jack looked him squarely in the eye and said, “Why the fuck not?”
“She has a lot to take in right now. And things are complicated.” David had expected to say something reassuring and completely loyal. Not this.
“What are you talking about?” Dylan sounded more puzzled than angry.
“Yes, what are you talking about? This isn’t multiple choice—pick all of the above.” Jack set his beer bottle down hard on the glass tabletop. “You realize you’re not in Utah, don’t you?”
They looked at their beers. They looked at the shambles of a garden. Dylan said, “I don’t think Jack has ever been in love.”
“True,” Jack said. “But I’ve been obsessed. I think he’s obsessed with Jane. Call it whatever.” He made it sound like a crime. “It will pass. It has passed. Mom’s here now.”
Dylan watched the two of them. In love for the first time, he didn’t see the point of arguing, even though staying quiet made him feel like an accessory. He saw Jack looking at him for backup.
“Why are you just sitting there?”
“I’m not just sitting here, but I don’t know how to make him do anything.”
“Christ, Dylan. We’re a family. Or at least we were. And you may have noticed—Mom’s sort of at a disadvantage here.”
“I know this affects you both,” David said. “But you can’t be part of it. You have to trust me to figure it out.” He started cleaning up. “And I’ll trust you not to tell your mother. Let’s go over there for dinner and you have to act normal. As far as I can see, she’s just as smart as she ever was.”
“Yeah, she probably already knows about Jane,” Jack said cheerfully.
“She’s tracked her down and they’re good friends by now.” Dylan could almost picture this. They all gave something close to a laugh.
“She’s probably got Jane fixed up with somebody already.” Jack, who hadn’t needed his last beer, added, “Just because we’re laughing doesn’t mean this is over.”
David, who hadn’t needed his last two beers, said, “Jesus, Jack, are you threatening me? Of course it’s not over. I’ll tell Mom, and you worry about your own—” He sounded childish even to himself. “Dylan, you’re driving.”
“You got that right.”
“Here’s what I think,” Kate said. “It’s getting late and you boys had a long day, so we’ll say goodnight. You sleep in tomorrow and have breakfast and play basketball or something. Dad will come over early and we’ll talk. Decide things. Then we’ll all have a late lunch together. Maybe you could bring lunch. Dad will give you money.”
Dylan touched her hand. “I grew up, Mom. I have a job. I even buy my own drugs now, instead of stealing money from your purse. I’ll treat.”
“Okay. Thank you. And I want all that money back, by the way.” Kate made herself tall and kissed his forehead. “Good night, rich guy. See you around one.”
Jack stepped up to be kissed too. “I don’t have any confessions to make.”
“I know. Your crimes are too recent.”
She stood on tiptoe but could only reach his cheek. Then she took David’s hand and walked with them to the exit, waiting while he stopped at the guest book to sign them out. He kissed her and they repeated their goodbyes all around. As he and the boys reached the exit, he looked back to see her still standing by the book and scattered pens. She was watching the boys elbow each other through the door, her smile still perceptible despite the distance.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I brought the thing you wanted me to write,” David said. “Do you want to read it now? Should I leave or stay here?”
“Stay here. I’ll probably have questions.”
She curled up in the recliner, now set upright, and began to read without hesitation. He made himself look away so he wouldn’t try to match her expression with any particular point in the timeline. She was a quick reader and before long turned over the last page and shuffled them all into an orderly pile.
“I’ve been wondering. Do you think we should renew our vows? I mean considering what’s happened? It’s like we lost and then found each other.”
He was mute. Renewing vows was something she had always ridiculed. He looked at her, hoping for some idea of what to say.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I know you’re in no position to renew any vows. Would you just tell me about her already? Or them? I know you must have somebody. How could you not?”
They were both standing now, and he put a hand on each of her shoulders, then drew her close to him. “I’ve never purposefully done anything to hurt you and I never will.”
“Actually you’re kind of hurting my left shoulder right now.”
He loosened his grip.
“What’s her name?”
“Jane.”
She leaned away from him, still and quiet, as if taking inventory after a fall.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m glad to hear it from you. That part is good, even though I had to drag it out of you.” She shuddered slightly. “Are we a spectacle?”
“We’re not young enough to be a spectacle. To my face at least, people have been kind. A couple of people said she reminded them of you.”
“What does she think of that?”
“She’s flattered, Kate. She couldn’t be anything but.”
“Well, then, you’d better tell me about her.” She had collected herself to the point of sounding interested in a neutral sort of way. “We’ve always figured things out. We’ll figure this out too,” she said.
“Let’s sit down,” he said. She went back to her chair and he pulled up another next to her.
“About a year ago, one insurance company decided they had paid a medical bill in error and wanted their money back. Big money. Let’s be honest: Under other circumstances, you would have been the one handling this kind of thing for us, and it was making me a little crazy and I was scared. Jane was the social worker here at the time and she offered to help.”
“Here? You met her here?”
“I wasn’t looking. It just happened.”
“Did you fall in love with her?”
He hadn’t expected the question so soon. “Do I have to say it? Do I have to say these things out loud?”
“How else can I understand? How else can we make decisions?”
“Okay,” he said. “Yes, I do love Jane. I’m sorry, but I do.”
He couldn’t read her at all.
Finally, she said, “All right. Now we both know what the situation is. That’s a start.”
She had done nothing to make him feel cruel, so of course that’s how he felt.
They walked outside and the sun, unfiltered by trees, shocked her. David gave her his sunglasses and squinted as he clicked the remote to unlock his sedan. They were going to meet the boys for lunch at a place far enough away that they wouldn’t know anyone. It was her first outing beyond the confines of the L.
She stopped walking. “Do I have a car?” she asked.
“I sold it to help the boys with cars.”
“That’s good. That was smart.” She clapped her hands once. “So I get to buy a car. If we’re not too broke, I might even buy a n
ew one. I know it’s stupid, but I might do it anyway. Or maybe I’ll lease one, since who knows how long .… Wait, do I have a driver’s license?”
“You do. I renewed it. I have no idea why and it’s probably a felony. I just checked no to the medical questions. I knew you weren’t driving anywhere. And I just couldn’t stand to tell them.”
She squeezed his hand and they both stood quietly until she said, “I’ll have to practice driving, though. I remember how disorienting driving felt after being inside with a new baby for just a few weeks.”
“I’ve been thinking about what to say to the boys about Jane. I want to let them know that you and I talked about her.”
“Maybe that’s all there is to say right now. You can’t really say more than you’re sure about.”
David knew this was his cue to say he was sure. That he was married again, completely, and that Jane had been a brief and awkward detour. He didn’t say any of this, even though he felt surprisingly relieved that Kate knew, and that this mess was no longer his to bear alone. For the first time, he thought he understood why a spouse would confess adultery.
Kate pulled into the parking lot, shut the car off, and turned towards him in her seat.
“You had a good idea—for me to try driving back to the L,” she said. “Maybe I’m not as far behind as I thought I’d be.”
“And lunch went well,” he said. “You being out. The boys.”
“We still have great kids.” She took his sunglasses off, blinked, then put them back on.
“I’ve read the guest log,” she said, “and I saw how rarely my parents and Claire came to see me. Actually for Claire, it wasn’t that much different than when I was well, and I understand why. For all of them, I understand. But it makes me think that we can wait a while before we tell them. I’m not ready to see them, and they’ll try to come immediately once they know.”
He didn’t argue.
“Tell me something—why do you think my mother has been so mean to you? She used to be crazy about you. I never would have predicted she’d turn on you.”
The Half-Life of Everything Page 11