Afterlife. Part 3

3.

She lugged her laptop to bed, and plugged it in and then went online. She checked her email. One email from Hut, sent early in the day. She tried to open it but it was marked as "unavailable." It bugged her that her email service did that sometimes-or Hut might've even done it if he had unsent the email. She wondered what it said. Maybe he had sent a note about what time he'd get home, and then had to change it. Or maybe one of the a.s.sistants had sent it. She could've called the clinic, but decided against it. No need to be paranoid. No more Clinging Julie, as Hut had sharply called her when she'd shown up a little too much, too often, unannounced at the clinic. She'd heard enough stories about his first wife and how she'd never given him any s.p.a.ce for his work.

That won't be me. I wouldn't want him hanging around the ER, either.

She saw her sister's name come up on her computer screen-a instant message.

"Want to Scrabble?" her sister asked.

"Sure. What a day."

"Let's phone," her sister's words appeared in a instant message box on her computer screen.

Julie picked up the phone and pressed speed dial on her sister's number. The click on the other end. "Mel. Melly. Melanie. How'd you know I'd be up?"

"Telepathy," Mel said, her voice upbeat, as usual. "Naw, just a guess. Julie, I've got to tell you. There's a new hot guy at work. I know I'm too old to chase teenagers, but he's in his twenties, and I just want to do him."

"Mel."

"Oh. Sorry. I forgot. You're married. You're not allowed to look at the menu anymore."

"He isn't home yet. It p.i.s.ses me off. And drives me nuts."

"You marry a doc, you marry a G.o.d. And G.o.d does what G.o.d wants."

"Enough."

"I'm sorry. You married him, not me. You could've had my life. The revolving door of men."

The Scrabble board appeared on the computer monitor's screen. Mel had already begun putting letters on it. The word "round" came up.

"What if he's had an accident?" Then, Julie added, "I can't believe you got all five letters for 'round.' You must be cheating."

"Luck of the draw," Mel said.

Julie figured out her word for the online Scrabble board: she just added a "g" to "round" to make it "ground." A genuine coup in Scrabble, as far as she was concerned.

"He hasn't had an accident," Mel said. "It's not like this is the first time. Shall I remind you of the other nights he's been late?"

A slight pause on the line. Something left unsaid. Better left that way, Julie thought. Don't think about the phone number you found in his jacket. Don't think about it. Don't think about the phone number you found in his jacket. Don't think about it.

"He's fine," Mel said. "You work long hours, too. You know the life. Maybe it's completely innocent." Mel had that edge to her voice, and Julie hated hearing it. It meant that her sister was just saying what she thought Julie wanted to hear.

"You think everybody cheats on everybody," Julie said.

"Maybe Hut's different." Mel said it with her liar voice that was a little too cutesy.

On the online Scrabble board, Mel added the word "under" to "ground."

"You are too lucky to get those five letters. It almost feels like cheating," Julie said.

"The luck of the draw."

"Okay, I'll trust you. Cheater." Julie chuckled, glancing through the letters she had to see how she could score triple points.

"Look, Julie, if you and Hut are still having problems..."

"You know," Julie said. "When we met, I thought I'd be working beside him. The way mom and dad did."

"And that would lead to a fast divorce. Just like mom and dad." Mel quickly changed the subject. "Hey, is Matty over his fever?"

Suddenly, on the monitor's screen, Mel had just put the word "nod," adding an "od" to the first "n" of "underground." This really screwed with Julie's plans to use the same squares.

"Over one obstacle and on to another. He's not doing great. A bad episode today."

"You sound like a wicked stepmother."

"I am. I am. I love that kid. I just feel at a loss sometimes. I don't understand so much about him. What he goes through. He was drawing things on his arms...in cla.s.s...with his pen."

Julie put in the letter "s" under the "u" of "underground."

"Kids do that, I guess," Mel said, although her voice had s.h.i.+fted slightly as if she were hiding her alarm.

Then Julie closed down her browser so that the Scrabble board disappeared.

"Hey, did you just destroy our game?" Mel asked.

"Let's not play anymore. Too many things going on. Look, here's the thing, Mel. He carved it into his skin. I mean gouged. These weird little drawings."

"Jesus. Is he okay?"

"They cleaned him up, and he seems okay. I guess."

"What'd the psych say?"

"Not much. The usual."

"More meds?"

"I hate that stuff. But yes."

"What were they of?"

"What do you mean?"

"The drawings? On his arms?"

"I'm not sure. He wouldn't tell me. Looked like a sun maybe with sunbeams coming out of it, and then one of them looked like a bunch of circles. He talked about someone named Jeannie or Gina and something about his hand and how it was bad. I guess it was just one of his moments."

"Aw. Poor kid. He's been through a lot. You got to give him credit. And you, too. Hang in there, wicked stepmommy. How's my darling niece?"

"Fine. Wonderful. She sat up with Matt and read him a bedtime story. He loved it. He was like a different kid than the one who cut into himself today. I wish the psychiatrist could...well, wis.h.i.+ng won't get me anywhere."

"Aw, you're quite a mommy. You give those kids extra b.u.t.terfly kisses from Aunt Melanie."

"Oh, I almost forgot. Livy told me to tell you that she expects to see more of you in the next few days."

"She threatening me?" Mel laughed. "You know, she's a lot like her gramma. Did I tell you about mom's new hobby?" Mel always knew how to pull Julie off her worries and into funny anecdotes about their mother's life. Mel regaled her with a long involved tale with a funny punch line about her mother wanting to open a used bookshop that only sold self-help books. "She said it's because everyone needs to help themselves. She thinks it's what changed her life. All those books on codependency and her diet books and that Dr. Phil book. And now she's getting into ESP. I think she'll end up being a witch." They both laughed.

When they finally got off the phone, it was nearly midnight, and Mel signed off with her usual, "When you were born, you know what I told mom? I told her that you were going to be my favorite sister in the whole world. And you still are, thirty-four years later."

"And it's still easy, because I'm your only sister," Julie chuckled. "Say goodnight, Gracie."

"Good night, Gracie."

After she'd hung up the phone, Julie drew out the previous Sunday's New York Times New York Times magazine section and opened the page to the crossword puzzle. Puzzles helped her relax a bit, and although she had trouble with this one (nearly forgetting the name of the state bird of Hawaii-"Nene"-a crossword puzzle staple), it seemed to turn off some awful buzzing in the back of her head. She took a half-dose of Ambien to help get her to the sleeping point. magazine section and opened the page to the crossword puzzle. Puzzles helped her relax a bit, and although she had trouble with this one (nearly forgetting the name of the state bird of Hawaii-"Nene"-a crossword puzzle staple), it seemed to turn off some awful buzzing in the back of her head. She took a half-dose of Ambien to help get her to the sleeping point.

When sleep came, not long after, she thought she heard the phone ring, but it seemed to be in the wonderful dream she was having, so she didn't try to answer it.

4.

A feeling of intense physical excitement overcame her body, and he touched her hand, lightly, and held her wrist as if to restrain her. Then, she felt a tender s.h.i.+ver go through her, a distinct s.e.xual charge. Hut was there, rubbing her, licking her nipples, but she couldn't move at all-somehow she was tied to the mattress. She felt wave after wave of delicious sensation and his hand moved down her stomach, and crept between her legs.

She gasped. Something about his face had changed. It seemed to fade in and out of focus.

5.

She woke to sweat-soaked sheets, in the dark of her bedroom.

Livy had crawled into bed beside her, in the night. Julie felt embarra.s.sed to have had such an erotic dream with her daughter sleeping beside her.

She watched Livy's face, as she slept, and waited for the sun to come up.

6.

The next morning, Julie checked the machine for messages, but there were none. Hut had not come home at all. She called his cell phone, but got the recording. She called the clinic; got his voice mail.

I hate you Hut Hutchinson. I hate you for doing this to me. For making me suspicious. For making me call hospitals in case you had accidents and then finding out you had just worked too late and hadn't thought it important enough to call me. Or your kids. I hate you for being this cold to me.

Julie you are nuts. He loves you. He is working on important things. He loves the kids. He probably just pulled an all-nighter working on some emergency or other and is still asleep in that little cot in the filing cabinet room at the clinic.

7.

Matt had been up by six. He had his Sony camcorder out and was making a movie of birds in the backyard at the birdfeeder. When he saw Julie at the kitchen window, he turned the camcorder on her and waved. She waved back, opening the window to tell him that she had some oatmeal and toast with raspberry jam for him for breakfast. He lowered the camcorder from his face, and scowled a bit. "Oatmeal? What about Pop Tarts?"

"I'll pick some up tomorrow at Shop Rite," she said. "In fact, if you want anything else special, let me know."

"Maybe some Dr. Pepper?"

There was an everydayness about the two of them talking through the open window that made her smile and forget the bad day that Matt had, and nearly forget the little scratches and scars on his arms.

She had to rouse Livy from what must've been a fantastic dream, because even as she hustled her into the shower, Livy kept talking about the wondrous things she saw the previous night, including flying horses.

"And in my dream, Daddy kept asking me if I could get up, and I said, of course I can daddy, I just want to keep sleeping. But you know what? I did get up. I thought I heard him say something."

"Daddy had to work all night," Julie said, kissing her on the forehead, smelling Livy's hair-the Johnson's Baby Shampoo of it, the little tiny last bit of babyness in her six year old daughter.

"You never work all night," Livy said. "Daddy works all the time, but you don't."

"I know. I have a perfect job."

"Like on ER ER."

"Just like that," Julie grinned. "Plus, I get to be Mommy."

"Poor Daddy," Livy said. "He never gets to be Daddy anymore."

"Poor Daddy is right," Julie said, and tried not to think of the slip of paper with a phone number on it that smelled of perfume that she'd found in Hut's overcoat, a number she had never called, a woman whose name she didn't know, a woman who might not even exist except in a jealous, insecure wife's imagination.