Chapter 31
Now he was at loose ends. Early in the morning he'd called to line up the psychiatry appointment. No one had been in the office yet, and he'd left a message, asking for the earliest possible slot and mentioning the neurologist's referral. He wanted to get started, get something moving, and he had his cell phone with him in case they called back.
He sat in his car and listened through his messages before deleting them. There had been another call from Katherine since he'd seen her yesterday, in the afternoon. He'd forgotten to check them, or maybe he hadn't wanted to.
"I don't know why you're doing this to me. I'm the one who loves you, not Carrie. Is Carrie making you do it? She's a selfish bitch. She just wants to keep you for herself, and she doesn't even love you. I wish she'd just disappear so we can be together." The phone clicked off abruptly.
She was escalating. The memory of her tone of voice when he turned his back on her in the office gave him a chill. Her refusal to accept that the relationship was over was unnerving, and he didn't like these references to Carrie, either. It was so obvious now that Katherine was disturbed, unbalanced. God, if only he hadn't gotten mixed up with her! He must have been in an unbalanced state himself to let it happen. Okay, she said they'd been drinking, but why had he let it continue after that first time? Getting even with Carrie for banishing him? Because from what Katherine said, it sounded like the separate bedrooms came before the beginning of the affair. If it was an affair.
It might be time for him to ask Carrie to tell him what had gone wrong between them. He'd like to believe he was just being considerate of her, the way he'd explained staying in the guest room to his mother. But if that explanation had been true, Carrie would have told him from the beginning. How serious was it, and could the rift be mended? She seemed to have become easier with him since that first meeting, not resentful. How bad could it be? Of course now he'd given her a real reason to reject him. And he would have to tell her eventually, clear out the deception. From what he knew of her by now, truth was a primary value. She'd been upset about deceiving his mother, for example, even though it was for her own good. So if he asked, she would tell him the truth now. And he would have to get up the courage to tell her about Katherine.
He should spend some time with his mother, now that the dust had settled and his way forward was a little clearer. Forward to what destination, though, he wasn't sure. He thought maybe he could get the family photographs down for her and they could look at them together. It could do them both good. And if it turned out his memory never came back, he needed to construct a new mother-son relationship. With his father gone, she probably needed him.
This was an interesting thing, to be needed by people who were strangers to him. He had such lopsided relationships. He was the dummy hand, and his partner had to do all the work, while he sat by passively and watched it play out. Except in the case of Katherine, where he refused to play. But his mother needed her son, and the office needed its lawyer. The irony was that he needed Carrie, increasingly, and she didn't seem to need him. She was so self-contained. There was something, though, something tentative tinged with sadness. It was in her eyes when he found her looking at him-those few moments when she wasn't reading something. He could be imagining it. It could be wishful thinking on his part, and anyway, if it was really there it was probably just pity.
He needed to do something to satisfy this aimlessness. He needed something on his calendar, a full schedule to distract him from an emptiness that was starting to swallow him up. Carrie was tied up for the day. She'd said she was almost through with writing up the first draft that would be then be edited into her dissertation.
He could go home and fix them some lunch. Or he could drive around and explore his town for a while. He put the car in gear and backed out of his parking place, uncertain what to do. When he saw the natural foods coop it decided him. Food was what he needed. Concentrate on the essentials. He waited for a parking spot in the crowded lot and went into the store. The produce department beckoned and he shopped for ingredients for a stir-fry, ginger and garlic and bok choy, onions, carrots, a bright yellow pepper, broccoli and cilantro. He filled a plastic bag with noodles. He thought he must shop here regularly, because it was easy to find things, so he checked in his wallet and found the coop membership card. In the fresh meat department he asked for a chicken breast. He could make them a feast.
The conviction was growing in him that he had no choice but to tell Carrie about Katherine, that he couldn't keep it to himself any longer. If he lost her for good over it, it wouldn't be so different from having the secret barring his way to her. It was ugly, but it would be uglier if Katherine got to her first. And he wouldn't be surprised if that's she would do next.
It was past noon by the time he got home. Carrie's car wasn't in the driveway. He called to her up the stairs but she didn't answer, so he went to the kitchen and unloaded the groceries. He pulled out the big frying pan and the cutting board and started slicing and chopping. He put the vegetables in a plastic bag in the refrigerator for later. Then he settled on the couch and tried to lose himself in the mystery novel he'd started on Sunday.
It was almost 5:00 when he heard the distinctive put-put-put and the little backfire of the VW on the driveway. Brian went out to meet her and she already had the car door open, and was stretching clumsily to reach into the back seat for a cardboard file box. She stood back and let him get it for her.
"Thanks, it's awkward. I'll be glad when I have my real body back."
She had her back to the street and he was facing her, the box full of papers in his arms, when he saw a car move slowly past their house, a shiny little yellow Mazda. The young blond woman driving was looking straight at them. When she saw that he'd recognized her, she pointed a finger at them and accelerated down the block. Carrie turned at the sound of the car, and maybe at the look on Brian's face as he stared after her. He didn't know if his anger showed or not.
"Who was that? Someone you recognize?"
Brian managed to shrug, in spite of having gone rigid when he saw Katherine. This was moving way out of his control. Had he really imagined it was going to be that simple; that the woman who had left those emotional messages would just let go of him because he said so?
"This is really heavy! How did you get it to the car? I don't think you should be lifting something like this."
"Don't worry, a student hauled it for me. Pregnant women can always count on the few remnants of chivalry left in this society. I think it's instinctual. Look how quickly you got out here."
"And if I hadn't, you would have carried it yourself, right? Don't do that, okay? It's all right to be a little helpless right now. Even if it's not your nature."
Carrie opened the porch door for him. "How would you know what my nature is? You hardly know me." She was smiling. The way she could joke about his mental state amazed him.
"It's intuition. I still have my intuition. You know how the blind develop more acute hearing? Well, without my memory my intuition is getting very robust. So don't think you can put anything over on me."
He thought he saw the sunshine go out of her face, just for a second, but it was so fast he wasn't sure.
He lugged the box upstairs and set it on her worktable, and announced he was fixing dinner.
"Lots of vegetables and a little chicken. Do we have any sesame oil? I didn't buy any. I found the Coop, by the way."
"It's in the spice cupboard. Are you using a recipe, or do you just remember how to cook? Maybe that can be your new career if you can't remember your old one." Then she suddenly remembered. "Oh! How did it go this morning with Andrea? What happened?"
"It was fine. I'm officially on sick leave. I'll tell you about it at dinner. Half an hour from now okay with you?"