“What is it, Raef?” I asked again. “Please tell me.”
He took a deep breath, seemed to think one last time if he had made the correct choice to tell me, then spoke softly.
“That day in Paris, here—I should say, here in Paris—do you remember that day?”
“Which day, Raef?”
“The one when Jack and I disappeared for a day. We played it off. We tried to make it mysterious. I think you and Constance went to Notre Dame to see the Mary statues. That’s where she always likes to go.”
“Yes, of course, yes, I remember it. Jack never explained where he went. We didn’t press it, because we thought maybe you were planning a surprise of some sort. We didn’t want to spoil things.”
He nodded. My recollection apparently conformed to his.
“That’s just the thing. That day when Jack and I went off on a mysterious mission and we joked about it and refused to tell you two about what we were up to … that day we went to a hospital.”
“What hospital?” I managed. “What are you saying, Raef?”
“I don’t even remember the name, Heather. Saint Boniface, I think. It was on the outskirts of Paris. Jack didn’t tell me everything, but he has a condition of some sort. Something he needed to check on, I guess. He didn’t explain the details. He wanted me along because my French was better than his.”
“He’s ill? Are you telling me he’s ill?”
Raef looked carefully at me. I saw how much it pained him to break Jack’s confidence, how much it pained him to injure me. Part of me held sympathy for Raef’s position, but another part of me, a wild, feral side, wanted to jump at his mouth and pull it apart and swim down to wherever the words were kept and then dig through them until I found what I required. He could not speak quickly enough; he could not break the news rapidly enough to satisfy me. But I held on and let him speak. I did not want to frighten him off or cut short his explanation by rushing at him.
“I think Jack’s symptoms had reappeared. He was sick before he came to Europe. I think that’s it. He never came right out and explained everything. I can’t say whether or not that was the reason he decided not to go home with you, but I’ve always thought it was. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. I reckon he wanted you to think poorly of him, to let him go, because whatever he found out at the hospital maybe confirmed something he suspected. I don’t know the timing on all this, but he had to wait for some test results to come in. That’s what he told me.”
“But Jack wasn’t sick,” I said, though now doubt had begun to spill into my brain. “He told me about his friend Tom, but he never—”
“It wasn’t Tom. There was no one named Tom, Heather.”
“His friend. A man he worked with. What are saying, Raef?”
“There was no friend named Tom. Sometimes he referred to his condition as ‘old Tom.’ He turned it into a joke. He’d say things like, ‘Old Tom’s not letting me sleep.’ I don’t know where he dreamed that up, but that was the name he used.”
“I can’t understand what you’re saying to me, Raef. I hear the words, but they don’t add up.”
“Tom was something he made up so that he could talk about the need to experience everything without going into the exact reason. He gave the illness to an imaginary friend. Maybe it wasn’t fair. I don’t know. He didn’t want people to pity him. He didn’t want to be treated differently, to answer all the questions his condition would raise. I’m sorry, Heather. I’ve wanted to tell you many times, but I can’t stand by and see you suffer any longer.”
I couldn’t think. A thousand questions flooded into my brain. It was the one explanation that fit all the various questions and objections. Hearing Raef’s confession, tiny pieces began clicking together.
“He’s sick, then?” I asked, remembering, remembering every word, every glance and gesture that shed any light on Jack’s condition. “Is that what you’re telling me, Raef? Please, I need to know.”
Raef nodded, then he made a face to indicate he didn’t know what Jack had intended. He couldn’t say because he truly didn’t know. The music stopped. We stood for a moment facing each other.
“I don’t know if it’s true or not. I don’t know if he’s sick,” Raef said. “I don’t know what it means, even, but it was important to Jack. That day, I mean, and the visit to the hospital. It would explain why he disappeared. He didn’t want to be a burden to you, and the only way he could get a distance, so to speak, was to disappear entirely. And probably to make you hate him in the bargain.”
“Are you serious, Raef? Are you kidding me? This is just too much.”
“Please forgive me, Heather. I don’t even know if I should be saying anything now. I have divided loyalty on this. Jack made me give him my word, and I did, and now I’m violating that. I couldn’t hold it as a secret anymore and watch you go through it over and over.”
We stood looking at each other. He reached and took my hands in his.
“You have suffered, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, I have.”
“I’m sorry, Heather. I wish I had more to tell you.”
“Was it cancer? Did his symptoms return? Is that why he went to the hospital? Was he Tom all this time?”
“I don’t know. I think it was leukemia. Probably whatever symptoms he attributed to Tom actually belonged to him. Yes, probably that.”
Then he was called away by one of Constance’s cousins. Cake to cut, something. Raef dropped my hands slowly, still holding my eyes with his. He didn’t leave, though.
“Let me find Amy,” he said. “Let her sit with you awhile until you’ve had a chance to digest all this.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t stand to think of talking with anyone. Not now.
“You should take a minute to absorb this. A lot of minutes, actually. I’m sorry, Heather. I hope you don’t think I was cruel to withhold this information. It was Jack’s story to tell, not mine. That’s what I told myself. Then I saw you dancing with Xavier, and I saw that you were unhappy, and I knew I had to say something.”
“I’m glad you did. Thank you.”
“I know Jack pretty well, Heather. He loved you. He told me that more than once. He refused to be the sick invalid with you. He wouldn’t want to put that on you. That’s how I put it together, anyway.”
“No,” I agreed, “Jack wouldn’t want that.”
Raef reached over and hugged me. He hugged me hard. Then he held me by the shoulders and looked directly at me.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t believe you. Take a minute, though, please. Take some time to get your mind around it. I feel terrible springing it on you like this.”
“It’s okay, Raef. Go ahead. You need to cut some cake. I’m all right. In some ways, I’m better now. You were right to tell me.”
“I don’t know, Heather. I hope I didn’t make a mistake in telling you,” he said, and then one of his cousins came over and insisted he come along. She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him away. I stood and watched and felt that I might lift and float away like the smoke of a candle drifting upward a moment after it dies as a flame.