“Is Harvey gay?” David couldn’t restrain himself from asking.
Genevieve’s eyes popped open as she smirked. “Hardly. He’s about the straightest straight guy on the planet. But he loved Todd. He still does, if his actions are any reflection of his thoughts. He’s most likely entirely unaware that his worship transformed at some point. Blossomed, really, into a full-fledged love affair without any of the physical trappings. There’s not even a remote possibility that he would understand it if anyone tried to explain it to him. But he blames me for Todd leaving him all alone here.”
“You? How could he blame you? Todd’s the one who bailed on him!”
Her lips puckered and twisted to the side. “Don’t I know it. He bailed on me, too. But what Harvey’s done is to shunt all the blame off of Todd. He wants to continue adoring him, so it can’t possibly have been his fault that he had to leave.” She looked down and picked up her knife again. “Which is why, by extension, he blames you, too. Why he’s been acting as he has toward you.”
“Me? But I wasn’t even in town then! I couldn’t even – ”
Her hand, along with the knife, had risen once more, quieting him. “I know, I know. There were actually twenty-seven months that elapsed between the time Todd left Shady Grove and your arrival. But that isn’t what Harvey sees. It’s a small town, he’s obviously been aware for some time that we’ve been dating. In his angry, heartbroken little mind, he’s decided that you are the reason he lost his best friend. You replaced him, so you must be part of the cause. And when that man got murdered in your building, he found the perfect opportunity to take out some of his frustrations on you.”
David wasn’t even sure what sort of response this deserved. It was inane, crazy! The arrival of their rosemary braised lamb shanks, along with buttered peas and garlic mashed potatoes, was a welcome intrusion. Each of them ate a few bites, unhurriedly savoring the delicious meat and its accompaniments.
David’s utensils were the first to be set down. “How come he hasn’t gone after the new football coach at the high school then? He must be as guilty as I am!”
“Harvey is the head coach at the high school now. He has been since the season after Todd resigned.”
“Oh. I see.” David’s fork speared a chunk of lamb. “Well, maybe he could beat himself up once in a while, just to keep in practice. Why couldn’t you just tell him why Todd left so abruptly? While… while you’ve never entirely shared that reason with me, surely Ormsby would have understood, having been around at the time?”
But Genevieve’s head shook slowly. “No. No, he wouldn’t have understood.”
And then her eyes sank, and she began to gingerly slice off bits of her lamb. David could hear Jess’s words in his head as he watched her practically shrink in her chair: She was hurt, David. Badly. It’s hard for her, to trust anyone. Did Genevieve still not trust him? Had he not yet proven himself worthy of her trust? Abby had told him that one day Genevieve would tell him everything, and she had hoped that he would then understand. David wanted to understand, he needed to understand!
“Do you want to know anything about me?” he asked quietly.
Genevieve looked up at him. Her knife was still cutting, but she wasn’t paying any attention.
“I mean, about my past. Camber, or before her. Anything.”
She glanced down again. The knife was set aside, and her fork began to swirl peas into her potatoes. “No. Not really,” she answered. “You can tell me anything you feel you have to, though.”
David blinked. The quid pro quo tactic clearly wasn’t going to be a winner. “I just meant… we’ve barely scratched the surface of how my own relationships got scuttled. I just figured that as long as we were on the subject, you’d perhaps want to hear about them. Since we’re discussing… well, Todd…”
But David already knew that he had lost her. The meager thread that had tied together everything she’d told him had already been snipped.
“I feel sometimes that there are walls between us,” he stated, wondering why in the hell he was even bothering to attempt another approach. “At first, I didn’t blame you. I told you who I’d been, and what I’d done. I didn’t trust myself one bit, so it was entirely understandable if you didn’t trust me either. But a year and a half into this, I would hope that we’ve reached the point where those… partitions wouldn’t be arising between us all the time.”
The fork was set carefully on her plate. Her eyes rose toward his at a lethargic speed. “Partitions?” she enunciated cautiously, as though she was sounding out the word for a diction coach.
“Yes. Partitions. In between you and me. Every time we come near to something… better. Closer. Each time we bond, it’s almost immediate. Something changes within you, and then all of a sudden I’m out on the curb again. And we have to practically start all over again the next time we see each other.”
Her gaze was hardening, her eyes narrowing. “That’s not fair, you know.”
David’s pulse began to pick up. “What isn’t? My saying that?”
She nodded as she sat straighter in her chair. “Yes. Your saying that. It was Jess, wasn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use the word before. I most certainly didn’t mean for the two of you to pull me to pieces, just so you could toss words like that into our conversations.”
“But…” David shifted about, trying desperately to think of a way to back out of this without incurring more damage. “It was Jess’s word. But what did you think the two of us would talk about? The décor in your house when she lived there? Of course we talked about you! And she didn’t mean it in a bad way, it was just her way of describing how – ”
“It was Todd’s word.” Her tone was sharp, the words thrust across the table at him. “And she knows that damn well. It was completely unfair of her to say that to you.”
David’s heart was pumping. His eyelids were fluttering so quickly that it almost appeared as if Genevieve and the room around her were lit by strobes. “I’m sorry,” he offered stupidly. “I didn’t know. How could I have?”
Her napkin came up off her lap and was tossed on the table. Her breathing was brisk with fury. “You couldn’t! But I just can’t take this. I can’t stomach the idea of having the same fight over the same irritating word with you as well.”
“We weren’t fighting!” David tried to take her hand, but it was snatched away.
“If I stay here a minute longer, we will be!”
Other diners in the room were now glancing their way while trying not to appear as if they were drinking in the drama, though an older couple in one corner was actually staring, the gentleman visibly adjusting his hearing aid.
“And to think I actually persuaded her to come back here. To meet you, this July,” Genevieve said tightly.
“Jess?” asked David. “I would love to meet her! And this is not her fault. It’s mine. Please. Stay, Genevieve.”
She stood. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
David rose as well, feeling his cheeks redden as what little conversation had still been taking place nearby dwindled and died. “Genevieve. I will do whatever I can to make this work. Between us, I mean. Isn’t there any way we can end this constant… breaking up and starting over again?”
Her face became pinched as she obviously tried not to cry. She took a long breath that displayed just the finest of shudders. “I’ll try, David, I’ll try. But I just don’t know. I really don’t.”
And a minute later, she had exited the restaurant. David sat once more, not hungry in the least for the delicious meal on the table before him, let alone the desserts from Gâteaupia that had been included with their prix fixe menu selections.
It would be a long, chilly walk back to the Rainbow Arms.
Chapter Twenty-Four
David remained at Longworth House for another hour and a half, time enough for every witness to his altercation with Genevieve to have finished their meal and departed. While the other patrons had carried
on with their dinners as though nothing untoward had occurred, the serving staff had doubled their efforts: discreetly removing Genevieve’s place setting, boxing up her leftovers, and even bringing David a generously sized Gin and Tonic, on the house.
David had left the largest tip of his life.
It had ended up being a far more pleasant walk back home than he’d anticipated. The sack of take-home boxes swung easily to and fro, and his pace was perky, mostly due to the fact that the first quarter of his journey had been straight downhill. Once he’d hit Willow, he’d jogged over to Sixth Street, and from there it was a mile and three-quarters-long direct shot down to Piston Avenue.
At nearly ten o’clock on a Monday night, he had run into no one except a man walking a dog, and three teenagers who had crossed the street when they’d seen him approaching.
David turned right onto Piston. And almost immediately, he halted. “Hey! What are you doing all the way down here?”
It was Janice, standing outside an apartment building two doors east of the Rainbow Arms. She was bundled up in a fleece coat with her arms crossed, smoking a cigarette.
A tentative smile crept onto her face. “I don’t like to leave my ashes out front of our place,” she said. “Bill sweeps the walk enough as it is.”
David nodded, appreciating her reasoning. He gestured to her coat. “Is it really that cold out here? I guess I don’t feel it.”
She took a drag, and then blew the smoke off to one side. “Try being my size one day. Heat doesn’t keep in these junior miss bones.” Her eyes skimmed his sack. “You doin’ the doggie bag trick?”
He snorted. “What’s that?”
“Monday night specials. Most restaurants, it’s their slowest night of the week. They do two-fers and such. A lot of people order more’n they need, so they’ve got extra meals for the rest of the week.”
A grin had appeared on David’s countenance. “I’ve done that before. Never heard it called that. No, this is the remains of a disaster. It’s my consolation prize for sticking it out till the bitter end. I got double dessert, all for myself. And come to think of it – ” He opened the sack, and pulled out a prettily wrapped white box. “I can’t think of anyone more appropriate to give this to.”
Janice didn’t budge. “What is it?” she asked, looking at the box suspiciously.
“Cake. And in all seriousness, it’s yours. I’ve got one of my own, and that’s more than I need.”
Her eyes rose to meet his. “What’s a disaster have to do with it?”
The grin on David’s face dimmed, but didn’t wane entirely. “I had dinner with Genevieve tonight, up at Longworth House. You know it?”
She gave a curt nod. “Fancy schmancy. Way up top above Bargain Bin.”
“Yeah. I actually walked right by that on my way here.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Musta gone well. She ditched ya all the way up there?”
“You could said that,” David replied. “About halfway through.” He lifted the bag. “Most of her dinner’s in here, too. But that’ll be my own doggie bag trick. Here. Please.”
She finally reached forward to take the box from him. “Is it chocolate? I can’t sleep at night if I eat that right before bed.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. They never brought it to the table, and I don’t remember what was listed on the menu.”
“Well, thanks. I, uh, hope it gets better. Was it ’cause of yesterday?”
“Yesterday?” And then he got it. Jesus, had that only been yesterday? “I… I don’t think so.”
“She seemed pretty mad. And you obviously had to do some serious patchin’ over if you shelled out the big bucks for dinner.”
Once more, he shrugged. “Let’s just say I can’t seem to get anything right lately.”
She took one more drag on her cigarette, and then dropped the butt to the ground before grinding it out with her foot. “Sounds like the story of my life,” she mumbled. “Ya headed back now? I’m guessin’ Johnson’s at home.”
“Yeah. He is.” David began walking again, and Janice fell in beside him.
“Ya know how you were askin’ me ’bout Heck yesterday?” she said in a low voice. “’Bout how I felt about it all?”
“Uh, huh?”
“I know the word now for what I am. What I… feel. Stacey knew it. She’s the girl I told you ’bout, who I waited with at the bus stop.”
“I remember. What’s the word?”
“Ambivlent.”
David almost chuckled, but tucked it right back inside.
“I’m ambivlent ’bout Heck being dead. Not happy. Not mad. Just straight down the middle.”
He smiled at her, and while he thought about placing a hand on her arm, he didn’t. “That’s exactly what your answer was yesterday, Janice. But yes, that’s the best word for it. If I’d had a better head on me then, I probably could’ve dug it out myself. I’m glad Stacey came up with it.”
Janice met his gaze. “She’s smart. Other than marryin’ that peckerhead, she is. But who am I to judge someone else on their taste in men?”
They turned onto the front walkway of the Rainbow Arms.
“Early day tomorrow?” David asked.
“Nah. Day off, from both jobs.” She smiled. “Maybe I will eat this disaster cake, chocolate or not. I can maybe make it through Jimmy Kimmel for once, ’stead of fallin’ asleep right after his openin’.”
They paused as they entered the common area. David could hear Johnson, eagerly pawing at the door already. “Goodnight, Janice,” he said. “And thanks. For letting me get it out of my system. It was good to talk.”
She looked up at him, and pulled her coat tighter about her. The night was indeed cooling off. “I’ll see ya ’round,” she replied evenly. “And you’ve listened to me so much, it’s just nice to balance things out a touch.” She raised the box in her hand. “And thanks for this. I hope it’s good.”
David smiled at her. “It will be. It’ll be the best disaster cake you’ve ever eaten in your life.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
David arose at seven the next morning. Walking for an hour had helped him sleep through the night without waking even once. Or perhaps it had been all the alcohol he’d imbibed.
He and Johnson took an early morning constitutional, an hour-long stroll to atone for the previous morning’s brief jog outside. Their breakfast was an improvement too, as David had popped into a market late in the afternoon the day before. English muffins and an apple for him, and fresh sausage for both of them.
Once again, though, Johnson had to remain at the Rainbow Arms while David headed to Culpepper Mills. Today, he had a progress meeting scheduled. And while he had no worries about the status of the website, since he was actually several days ahead of schedule, it seemed wiser to leave the dog at home.
David left at 9:25. And as he leisurely headed up Fifth Street toward downtown, he mulled over the frantic seesaw that his relationship with Genevieve had become lately. He had thought about Jess’s role in their fight quite seriously the night before as he’d walked home, and had to admit that he couldn’t attach any blame to her. The fault had been solely his for bringing up that horrid trigger word, ‘partition’. Jess had told him to keep her end of their conversation to himself, and he wished more than anything now that he’d listened.
But Genevieve’s frame of mind had already begun to slide south before David had uttered the fateful word. Her recounting of the friendship between Todd and Detective Ormsby had been more than odd. And then her tying together the detective’s purported sense of loss with his treatment of David over the past week could only be considered disturbing.
As logical as she had tried to be, the entire scenario had clearly disturbed Genevieve as well.
David really did want to meet Jess. He had thought briefly about calling her the night before, despite the late hour. But he had understood that this would only add fuel to Genevieve’s fire. And he was also aware that no matter how help
ful talking to Jess might be, the real problems were something that only he and Genevieve could solve, individually or together.
As he crossed Marion Avenue, David glanced to his left, at the Shady Grove Elementary School. Clair was inside of that building right now, supposedly mastering her ABCs and the basic elements of sentence structure and numbers. Echoes of what Mrs. Jenkins told him had begun to sound again an hour or two after his confrontation with Detective Ormsby had ended, and he had found himself wondering if it would be appropriate to visit her again sometime soon. He wanted to comprehend more, he wanted to know how a little girl with such incredible powers could exist in a world of mundane learning, and mundane children. Were the other kids aware that she was different? Or did Clair become an ordinary girl in that setting, conforming to what was expected of her?
Birch Avenue loomed, and David’s gaze slid automatically to the right, toward Genevieve’s house. She had undoubtedly been at the bakery since seven, though, prepping for yet another week of frenetic activity. Had David been in her thoughts at all this morning? Or was he hidden behind a partition, out of sight until she found the time and energy to deal with him?
Gum and Maple Avenues passed by as David dwelt on this, this truth whose head he had so idiotically reared before her at dinner last night. Jess was right, Goddamn it! Genevieve did partition off everything in her life. What had been so wrong about his bringing it up, except for the fact that Todd had once brought it up before him?
Genevieve obviously lived her life following the same patterns, year after year. How peculiar was it that her boyfriends executed similar patterns as well?
A Shiver of Wonder Page 13