In Medias Res (9 page)

“It doesn’t matter. Whether he’s here or in Chicago, it doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me.”

“About what?” I grabbed her arm, but she pulled away.

“About everything. If you two are so unhappy, why did you greet him with open arms?”

“If that’s what you think you saw, you need to have your eyes examined.”

“Why are we even arguing about this, anyway? You’re
married
, remember?” she said, reminding both of us of something we seemed to have momentarily forgotten. She started the scooter. “Go play with your husband. I’ve got better things to do than wait around for you to decide if you’re actually interested in me or if you’re just another bi-curious straight girl.”

Just as they had in the restaurant, her words found their mark. This time they hit me even harder. I actually staggered a little. What she said had an air of familiarity I could neither pinpoint nor dismiss.

“I am being as honest with you as I know how,” I said, blocking her escape route. “What do you want from me?”

She glared at me, her eyes filled with equal parts hurt and anger. “Apparently something you’re not ready to give.”

She was right and I knew it, so I didn’t try to argue with her. She had tried to draw me out, but I had deflected all of her questions. When I’d had the chance to come clean, I had chosen to keep my secret. My actions might have ended our friendship before it had barely begun.

I stepped aside and Marcy sped away. I watched her until she disappeared around the corner. Then I headed back inside. I found Jack in the kitchen. The medical encyclopedia lay open on the banquette. Had he glanced at it and seen what I’d been reading or had he been too busy with the groceries? Not taking any chances, I closed the book while his back was turned.

“Where’s your friend?” he asked, bending to put the salad mix in the crisper.

“She had to go to work.”

“Oh?” He cribbed one of the fresh strawberries before putting the carton in the refrigerator. “What does she do?”

“She drives a pedi-cab,” I said while he popped the cap on two of the Heinekens. He handed me one and kept one for himself.

“That sounds strenuous. Especially considering how hot and humid it gets down here during the summer. What’s her name again?”

“It’s Marcy,” I said, wishing he’d change the subject.

“How did you meet her?”

“Walking down the street,” I offered lamely. Unable to remember what kind of relationship we had, I didn’t know how to relate to him. I had hoped I wouldn’t have to until I was myself again. Hadn’t the phone call been enough to put his mind at ease?

He wriggled his eyebrows at me. “Back to that again, are you?”

“You said you didn’t mind if I went back to work. Why shouldn’t I have a go at the world’s oldest profession?”

He laughed around the mouth of his beer bottle. “How’s your new job working out for you?”

“It’s slow going right now. I’ll let you know after I build up a client base.”

“Do I have to stand in line for your services or will I be afforded special privileges?” His voice was a seductive murmur.

I was afraid he’d ask a question along those lines. When I saw him standing in the doorway, the first thought that had run through my mind was
What do I do if he asks for sex?
I couldn’t say no without an explanation, but how could I say yes? I hadn’t reclaimed my memories of him so I felt like we were meeting for the first time. The “new” me wasn’t into sex with strangers and that’s what he was to me—a stranger.

“I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”

“You do that,” he said, laughing again. He dipped into the bag of potato chips I’d bought.

“Did they not feed you on the plane or are you just a bottomless pit today?”

He grinned but didn’t put down the chips. “This is why you don’t allow me in the kitchen when you’re unpacking groceries. I was going to take you to lunch today, but you look satiated. In more ways than one, I might add. You look more relaxed than I’ve seen you in weeks. What have you been doing all morning?”

“Marcy and I went snorkeling at the reef.”

I pulled out the pictures to back up my story. Jack latched on to the first shot Marcy had taken, the one of me being greeted by a fishy welcoming committee. “This is a good picture of you. You look like The Little Mermaid.” He rifled through a few more pictures. “Why haven’t we ever done this?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug as I gathered the scattered photos. “Timing, I guess.”

“Maybe tomorrow?”

I wanted to make another trip out to the reef, but venturing there with someone other than Marcy or Ana would have felt somehow dishonest. In order to make the trip with Jack, I would have to use another charter company. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He pulled me into his arms for a crushing hug and a delayed hello kiss that was only slightly less bruising. “God, I missed you.”

“I haven’t been gone that long.” The arms around me were strong and sure. I tried to recall how I was supposed to feel when I was in them.

Jack was as handsome in person as he was in the picture I’d found in my wallet. Despite being a bit presumptuous, he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. I should have been overjoyed to discover that a man that perfect belonged to me. Instead, I was wondering why I didn’t feel a spark between us. My heart should have skipped a beat when I’d seen him, not stopped altogether.

He’d just arrived and I couldn’t wait for him to leave.

He’s your husband
, I reminded myself.
Just relax and let it happen
.

“Last night was the first night we’ve spent apart since we got married,” he said. “I didn’t handle it very well.” He laced his fingers around my waist and pressed his hips against mine. His semi-erection poked against my stomach. “Have you gone to your favorite place yet?”

Assuming he meant Sloppy Joe’s, I tried to think of an appropriate response. “I didn’t want to go without you.”

He frowned and I wondered if I’d given myself away. “That’s never stopped you before. You make a beeline for that place every time you come down here. The only company you require there is Mr. Hemingway’s, not Dr. Stanton’s.” He kissed me on my forehead and let me go. I was grateful for the reprieve. The bulge pressing against my navel was distracting. “You know something?” he said, taking another sip of his beer. “I think your friend the pedi-cab driver would be perfect for Jennifer. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying not to appear as shocked as I felt. He made it sound like Jennifer was into women. Nothing I had seen or heard in the previous two days had led me in that direction. If Jennifer were gay, why was she living with Marcus? Was he not, as I’d assumed, her husband? Was he simply what he’d claimed to be when I’d talked to him on the phone—a sidekick? A roommate and nothing more?

I quickly re-examined the videotaped images I’d seen the night before. I thought back to the smile Jennifer and Marcus had shared. They had smiled at each other not like they were the only two people in the room, but the only two people
like them
. And when I’d teased Jennifer about her and Patrick having feelings for each other, I’d known then why that wasn’t the case. He might have had feelings for her, but she hadn’t felt the same way.

Why had I blocked out something so important? What other secrets had I forgotten? What else was I supposed to know?

“You more than anyone knows how much Jennifer loves the athletic type,” Jack said. “Your new friend definitely fits the bill. Not that I was looking.”

“No, heaven forbid,” I said, pretending to be jealous. I was so accomplished at doing what was expected of me that I wondered how good I was at doing what came naturally.

“Have you talked to her?”

“Who?” I didn’t know if he meant my old friend or my new one.

“Jen.”

I borrowed one of Marcus’s lines in order to save my ass. “She’s off saving the world again. I couldn’t get through to her.”

“I can’t believe she agreed to another stint so soon after the last one. I thought she would have taken some time to get all that madness out of her head before she subjected herself to another round of it. She was home only a week, if that long. Where is she this time? She’s not back in the Sudan, is she?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. Was I supposed to know?

Jack nodded sympathetically. “I have a couple of contacts with Doctors Without Borders. I could give one of them a call and find out. Not that it would make much difference—one war is as deadly as another once the bullets start flying—but I’m sure it would ease your mind to know exactly where she is. I remember how upset you were when she volunteered to go to Liberia after the violence there began to spin out of control. You barely slept for almost a week. Is that why you’re here now, so you can walk the floor at night without keeping me awake?”

It sounded like a reasonable explanation as any. “You found me out.”

“She’ll be fine,” he said. “She always is. Remember her motto? ‘I might not know much, but one thing I know how to do is stay alive.’”

Jennifer was as lost to me as Jack was, but I somehow felt her absence more. Probably because I had seen how happy and how close we used to be. Dancing goofily in our prom dresses. Ganging up on my brother. We didn’t just look like sisters. We had acted like them as well.

“What am I supposed to do if she forgets how to stay alive?” I asked.

“She won’t.” Jack held my face in his hands and peered into my eyes. “Why don’t you ever worry about me like that?”

“Have you ever given me reason to?”

I doubted it. He seemed too staid to do anything that would cause me to lose sleep over him. He would be home when he said he would. He would call if he had to work late. He wouldn’t forget birthdays or anniversaries. He was a romance novelist’s dream. So why didn’t he feel like mine?

“I am the antithesis of all those bad boys you dated in high school and college,” he said. “I try to be as dull and boring as possible. It’s why you married me, isn’t it? That and the fact that I’m hung like a horse.”

“If you say so.”

Why
had
I married him? Had it been love at first sight or had friendship blossomed into more? Had he swept me off my feet or had I needed convincing? Had he chased me or had I gone after him?

“Tell me our story.”

“Don’t you remember it?” He asked the question so seriously that I thought he might finally be on to me.

“I want to make sure that
you
do.”

“If you’re putting me on the spot after less than two years, I can’t imagine what you’re going to do after fifty.”

“More of the same, only worse.”

Despite his mild protest, he granted my request. We made ourselves comfortable on the couch and he told me how we came to be.

“I suppose you could say Jennifer is the reason we’re together. She and I fought tooth-and-nail all through med school to see who could get the best grades and the best girls. If she and I weren’t so competitive, I never would have met you,” he said, still nursing his beer. Out of sorts, I was already on my second. “My shift was over. I should have been on my way home. With nothing better to do, I decided to challenge Jennifer to a little one-on-one.”

An image of a basketball court with faded paint and rotting nets popped into my head, but I didn’t know if it was the one from Jack’s story or something I’d seen on TV. Still, I felt a spark of hope. Perhaps Jack was the missing link. The piece of the puzzle I needed to make the rest fall into place.

“She and I were in the middle of the game when you showed up to take her out for your regular Friday let-me-tell-you-what-a-shitty-week-I-had get-together,” Jack continued. “Before that night, I had come close to beating her—if losing by single digits instead of double counts as close—but I had never taken a game off of her. I looked so hapless that night I managed to make you feel sorry for me. You gave me some pointers on my form and my defense. With your help, I was finally able to take her down. When my final shot swished through the net, I think you celebrated even more than I did.”

He chuckled at the memory.

“Jennifer was so angry with you for ‘turning on her,’ as she put it, that she bailed on dinner. You, however, graciously allowed me to serve as her stand-in. I spent the next two hours trying to convince you not to judge me solely on my athletic ability—or lack thereof. It must have worked because you agreed to see me again. We moved in together three months later. Six months after that, we were married. I’ve never been certain if you said yes to me or to the opportunity to watch eighty-one free Cubs games from the roof of my apartment building. You said it was me, but I have my doubts.”

“Let me ease your mind,” I said. “It was the Cubs.”

He nodded as if he’d been expecting the joke. My memory might have been faulty, but my personality seemed to be intact. Despite everything, I was still the same person.