A Lady Under Siege

38

Derek was checking ashtrays for a cigarette butt long enough to smoke. He found one on the kitchen counter; out the window he caught a glimpse of Betsy on the steps of her deck next door. He went out to see her.

She was dressed nicely, for a party or family gathering, he thought. She’d tucked the hem of her skirt into her waistband, and was balancing on the unicycle, riding it back and forth a foot or two, but still keeping hold of the deck railing. “You’re getting it,” he said. “Next step is letting go. What’s with the duds? What’s the occasion?”

“Church.”

“Is it Sunday?”

“According to those who follow the Christian calendar, yes,” she replied, feeling very clever.

“Aha. You believe in God and all that, do you?”

“God created the world. If he didn’t, who did?”

“Well it wasn’t me, I’d have done a better job. You would’ve too. Just think what the world would be like if you could invent it from scratch.”

“There’d be no pollution, everywhere would be a park, and there’d be unicorns.”

“Perfect,” he replied. “I didn’t even know you went to church.”

“My mom says it’s important I learn the Bible so I’ll get all the referrals to it in books and art when I’m older.”

“Good thinking. Planning for tomorrow today, that’s your mother. Only problem is no one’s going to look at books and art by the time you’re twenty, it’ll all just be tweets about pop stars.”

Meghan came out. “C’mon Betsy, we’re late. We gotta go.”

“You’re late. I was ready.”

“Whatever. We are late.”

“No, not we, because you don’t even go to church.” Betsy said. She turned to Derek and added, “She just drops me at Sunday school and goes shopping.”

“Grocery shopping, not fun shopping,” Meghan clarified. “C’mon, move your butt.”

TEN MINUTES LATER DEREK was surprised to find Meghan at his door. “What’s up? What happened to shopping?” he asked.

“Shopping I can do with Betsy. This is the only hour I’ll get all day to do something for myself, so I figured I’d take a break from being Supermom. Can I come in?”

“Of course, of course.”

He led the way to his living room. Once there she didn’t sit down, so he didn’t either. She said, “I need to look into your eyes.”

He let her do it. Her gaze unsettled him. It was unwavering, piercing, probing. “Come closer,” she said. She continued to stare deeply and directly at him. They stood toe to toe, their faces mere inches apart. He had an urge to wrap his arms around her.

“Is this like a staring contest?”

“Shhh.”

After a moment Meghan said doubtfully, “I think I see him. Thomas, I know you’re in there, but it’s like you’re sitting in the back row of the theatre. I wish you’d come down front, where I can be sure it’s you.”

“Tell me—why exactly are you so in my face?” Derek asked.

“Thomas has taken your advice. He’s promised to stop talking to me when he talks to her. And he had something else to say. Before I tell you, don’t get any ideas that it’s going to happen.”

Derek lowered himself down and settled comfortably onto the couch, stretching out his jeans-clad legs. He said, “I think I like where this is going.”

“I wanted to connect with him, through Sylvanne. He wants to connect with me. Through you.”

Derek looked at her blankly for a moment, then suddenly crowed, “Jackpot!” His grin stretched nearly to his earlobes. “Thank you Thomas! Well then, what are we waiting for?” He patted the couch beside him. “Come on—let’s give his Lordship the ride of his life!”

“I told you not to get ideas.”

“Hey, it’s Tom’s idea now.”

“His idea is different than yours.”

“How so? I wasn’t there, I didn’t get to hear him declaim. Spell it out for me.”

“The difference is the difference between falling in love and, well, what you have in mind.”

“I see. He’s all about the mind, I’m all about the body. Which is perfect—if he wants you to use my body to connect with his mind, I am one hundred percent totally okay with that.”

“I knew you would be. I told my therapist you would be.”

“Oh yeah? What’s her take?”

“It turns out that even though I’m paying her, she doesn’t actually believe Thomas is real, and tried to give me drugs to stop me from dreaming. You’re about the only person who does believe me. You do believe me, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“So that’s one point in your favour.”

“I’ll try to think of some more.”

“Believe it or not, Thomas gave me some more. He sang your praises. He’s in your head, don’t forget, so he knows all about you. He likes you—he told me to overlook your many faults and focus on your virtues. He says the only harm you do is to yourself. You’re not wicked, just weak.”

“Not wicked, just weak. That’s good—a nice epitaph. I’ll put it on my tombstone,” Derek smiled.

“Wouldn’t you like something more positive to sum up your life?”

“Thomas likes me, even if you don’t.”

“I want to like you,” she said. “I was thinking about you this morning. I was reading the paper, and there was a story about a doctor who had a tragedy a lot like yours, did you see it?”

“No.”

“He lost his wife and two sons, in a plane crash. And it changed his life—he gave up a very lucrative medical practice, and moved to Africa, and now he devotes himself to helping the poor there. So in a way, a terrible tragedy changed him, and made him a better man. More good.”

“And you’re comparing that to me?” Derek asked. “You try it sometime. See how easy it is.”

“I’m not saying that,” she protested.

He stood up from the couch. “Come here. I want to hug you.”

“Why?”

“For a million reasons. For Thomas, for me, for everything bad that’s ever happened to anyone.”

She came to him, stood before him and held out her hands. He took them and pulled her to him. Tentatively, she laid her head on his shoulder. They held each other close, feeling each other’s warmth, saying nothing for a long time. It was Derek who broke the silence. “Maybe that doctor was bad before, and suffering turned him good. I was good, and it turned me bad. Not bad really, but it made me stop caring about things like good and bad.”

She pulled back to look at his face. “You’re not all bad. You were very nice to Betsy.”

“Until I wasn’t.”

“But then you were again.”

“You’re a very peculiar woman, Meghan,” he said. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s my husband’s anyway, my soon-to-be ex-husband’s. I have to figure out what to do about that.”

“Do you think we could ever have a normal conversation?” he asked. “Think we could just talk to each other, once in a while?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you. I’m not going to get together with you just to please him, but I’m open to getting together with you, if we can find a way of connecting, just we two.”

“Only it’s not just we two,” said Derek. “It’s like a ménage-a-trois where one guy promises just to watch.”

“Don’t even try to describe it,” she said. “Let’s not overthink it right now.”

“Usually men say that to women.”

“I know.”

“Or maybe it’s more like, we’ve got Thomas wooing Sylvanne, and now I need to woo you, is that it?”

“Let’s say I’m open to you,” she replied. “But you’ve got to be open to yourself, to find the best in yourself, and give it to me. That’s what I want to give someone, and that’s what I expect in return. Not all this diversion, and clutter, and jokey sarcasm, and substance abuse.”

“You don’t know what I was like before. Maybe I was like this already.”

“I don’t think you were,” she said.

He didn’t argue. He turned away and sat back down on the couch, looking slightly disoriented. “Let me look at you,” she said, lowering herself to sit beside him. He turned toward her and their eyes met, and he felt an odd tremor in his body, warm like a breeze. Her gaze seemed to pass right through him.

“You’re seeing him, aren’t you?” he said.

“I think so.”

“What would you like to tell him?”

“I want to tell him to go away. Right now I want to get to know Derek. Or I’d like to, except I have to get Betsy from Sunday school in about seven minutes.”

“That’s too bad,” he smiled. “I was going to tell you to put your feet up, make yourself a cup of tea, or roll one up and spark it, for that matter—I was going to zip upstairs and shower and shave, and come back down all smooth-faced, baby fresh, and we’d pick it up from there. I clean up real good. No harsh chemicals—Ivory soap.”

“Clean is always good.” She looked up into his broad, smiling face and, unexpectedly, felt a shock of recognition. That hint of a flinty glare in his eyes—was it Derek, or Thomas? Or was it the light of two hearts? She kissed her finger and touched it to Derek’s lips.

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered. She glanced at her watch. “Why do I always have to be somewhere else?”