A Shiver of Wonder (5 page)

“So what happened last night?”

Genevieve groaned as her arm detached from
his. “Jill and Joan, the couple that joined just last month? They
object to the I and the A.
They
think it should be
LGBTQIDK.”

“What the hell is IDK?”

“I don’t know.”

“
What?
How can they possibly – ”

But Genevieve had turned toward him,
beaming, and with a glimmer in her eyes. “Literally, it’s ‘I don’t
know.’ IDK, see?”

This time it was David who groaned. “I
thought the Q covered all those who weren’t sure what type of ice
cream they liked.”

He received a playful slap on his arm as
they began to cross Third. Johnson was digging his paws into the
street, head low as he stretched the leash to its limit.

“The Q earned its own fifteen minutes last
night. Lydia had read online that some groups consider it queer,
not questioning. So of course she brought this up, but while most
of us were fine with either, some people detest the negativity the
word ‘queer’ connotes, and others want to embrace it.”

“Johnson! We’ll walk first!” David attempted
to guide Johnson back onto the pathway that circumnavigated the
square. And then to Genevieve, “Is that it for your hosting duties
for a while?”

“Yep. Next month, it’s ‘Lez Hang Out’ right
here in the park, and for July we’re going to advertise a gender
chat, probably in a room at the library. Lydia suggested an LGBT
dog owner social group, but I suspect that she’d want the
membership to consist of just you and her.”

“And Johnson. And Isabel. And wouldn’t that
totally defeat the purpose? An LGBT subset with a hetero
couple?”

“Oh, Lydia’s
so
not hetero.”

David grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Just when she
wants to be.”

They walked for a few minutes in silence
then, passing the Moose Lodge and jogging right on Second, making
an uphill approach to The Restful Nook before turning onto Willow.
The graceful stone Episcopal Church was on their left, the lowering
sun framing it perfectly atop the rising hills behind it.

“So did she do it?” Genevieve asked.

“Did who… Oh, Janice? No. She was out of
town when it happened. You didn’t see the Courier?”

“I did. I just didn’t read it. They lived
together, right?”

“I’m not sure. He was certainly there often
enough, but Ormsby – the detective – told me that only Janice’s
name was on the lease.”

Genevieve had stopped walking. David pulled
up as well, tugging the leash twice so Johnson wouldn’t throttle
himself.

“Ormsby?” she asked, disbelief in her
voice.

“Yeah. He managed to get himself quoted
about a hundred times in the paper today. I told you about him
yesterday, he’s the jerk who – ”

“You never mentioned his
name
, David.
Not once.” Her face was tense, her words edged with what almost
sounded to David like anger.

“So? Do you know him?” David was confused;
what difference could his name possibly make?

“He was a friend of Todd’s,” Genevieve said
tightly, and then she began to walk again, striding toward Third
with efficiently determined steps.

For the second time in one evening, David
scurried to catch up with her. “Really? Is that why he acted the
way he did? Because of Todd?”

She didn’t respond, but kept walking.

“Hey!”

Nothing.

“
Hey!
Seriously, what’s the deal
here?”

In a flash, she’d whirled and halted. “I
just can’t get into it with you. Not again. I’m tired of it!”

“Wha –? But I didn’t bring it up, I didn’t
even
think
of it that way!”

Her hands found her hips. “David, for
something like eighteen months, it’s been Todd, Todd, Todd. Over
and over! Do you even have the tiniest clue how many times you’ve
brought him up?”

“But… That’s not fair! You wanted to talk
about him, you wanted to tell me about it so I’d understand!
Understand what you’d gone through, how you… How we – ”

Genevieve’s head was shaking back and forth,
her lips mere slivers of whiteness amid the greater paleness of her
face. David was glad he couldn’t smell the usual sweetness that
wafted off of her. Cinnamon and brown sugar had no business in this
very awkward, very public confrontation.

“I
texted
you to let you know I
wanted some time to myself before I saw you tonight,” she
enunciated rigidly. “I actually texted
twice
, the second
time to see if you’d received the first.”

David’s hand fumbled toward a pocket. “I…
er, I don’t even know if I have my phone on me.”

“You
never
have it on you! I get it,
I get the whole unplugged thing you’re doing, but seriously, David.
It’s annoying.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to – ”

“I know you don’t.” Genevieve stamped her
foot, though not angrily. “But I wanted to call Jess, and she’s in
a later time zone, as you know. And I’d hoped that after I talked
to her a bit, I would have been calmer, ready to see you… and ready
to be… nicer.”

David didn’t respond. Jess had been
Genevieve’s best friend for years, though he’d never met her. They
talked at least twice a week, usually for hours.

“I’m sorry, David. Can we just call it a
night? Do you mind?”

YES
he minded, but what was he going
to do, protest and piss her off even more? “Is Jess ever going to
visit?” he heard himself ask. “So I can meet her? So she can meet…
me?” Genevieve had disclosed that Jess was her sounding board
regarding all things David, and he was understandably concerned
about all of the late night dissections at which he’d no doubt been
present, despite the fact that one of the surgeons had never laid
eyes on him.

Genevieve looked away, toward the Episcopal
Church on the opposite side of the street. “One day. Maybe. We’ll
have to see.”

David looked off to the side as well. Same
answer as always. The enigmatic Jess held more sway over Genevieve
in absentia than David had ever managed in person, even during the
best periods of their relationship.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, trying to
keep the plaintiveness out of his voice.

She nodded. “Yes. I can’t visit Abby until
Sunday, can you tell her? Assuming you’re going, as always?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going. It’s a nice
change to have a male berate me once in a while.”

And at that, Genevieve laughed lightly. She
stepped forward to place a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, David. Tell
Grandpa hi from me. And let’s have dinner. Tomorrow night, okay?
You have fun in the square with Johnson, and I’ll… I’ll pull myself
together. I promise.”

And then she was striding away down Willow
as Johnson began pulling toward the center of the park, where
squirrels and hillocks and other frolicsome canines awaited.

David sighed, and followed his dog.

The living room of David’s apartment
appeared dim and dismal. It was 8:30 on a Friday night, and he knew
that how he perceived his home was entirely due to his melancholy
in regards to Genevieve. Up, down. On, off. Together, apart. This
was the one clear constant in their relationship, the inconstancy
regarding what their relationship
was
.

His eyes kept being drawn to his computer
workstation: three large screens in a semicircle, with trios of
keyboards and mice ready to grant him access to any electronic
portal in the world. Why was he lying on a scratchy, secondhand
couch, petting his dog and moping, when he could instantly energize
himself with news, music, movies, erotica,
anything
at all
that he desired?

But David knew why. And he understood that
being drawn into that world again, with its easy amusements and
false comforts, was an incredibly horrible idea.

There were reasons why his walls were lined
with books, and why his was the only apartment at the Rainbow Arms
lacking that most essential of modern devices, a television.

David’s eyes closed, though he continued to
stroke Johnson. He hadn’t the least desire to start a new novel
tonight. Bill Lopes was probably six sheets to the wind already, so
stopping by the caretaker’s cottage for another chat wasn’t an
option. He’d wanted to spend time with
Genevieve
tonight!
She was so busy with Gâteaupia most of the week that they already
saw each other less than most couples did.

When they were together, that is.

If only he’d checked his phone earlier, he
could have been at her house right now, sipping a glass of Merlot
while the two of them prepared dinner together. Perhaps he would
have spent the night, always a delight except for poor Johnson,
who’d be relegated to sleeping on an old blanket in her spare
room.

David rose. Where
was
his phone,
anyway? Not at its charging station by the computers; that would
have been too obvious.

He checked his tiny kitchen, and then the
bedroom. Nothing. Had he left it in the courtyard or at Bill’s?

But he hadn’t used it since… since…

Oh. The bathroom, on the counter by the
sink. He had texted his Culpepper Mills contact earlier, to let her
know that he would finish some linking from home over the
weekend.

He retrieved his phone, and as he grasped it
the screen lit up, vividly fulgid in the dark room. An unknown
number flashed again and again. The sound was muted, and David
found himself mesmerized by the lights pulsing in utter
silence.

He decided to chance it. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this David?” A singsong female
voice, fake and overly pleasant.

He sighed. “It is. Seriously, Friday night?
What are you trying to sell me?”

She laughed. “I’m not trying to sell you
anything. Unless you want me to. This is Jess, Genevieve’s old
housemate. She… she suggested I call you, so we could talk. You
don’t mind, do you?”

“No! Not at all!” David made his way back to
the couch, his head spinning. Jess, calling him? And at Genevieve’s
prompting?

“She
has
mentioned me, right?” was
then dryly tossed out.

David barked a laugh himself. “Oh, yes.
Many, many times.”

“I would hope so!” was her reply. “I’d hate
to think she’d partitioned me off just because I don’t live in
Shady Grove anymore. Genevieve’s fabulous with partitions. But you
probably know that all too well by now, don’t you?”

David practically fell back onto the couch.
Johnson jumped up, but then quickly made himself comfortable again.
Jess’s voice was nothing like David had imagined, but then again,
he’d never actually seen a
picture
of her! Not that this was
unusual. Genevieve didn’t have pictures of anybody up in her home,
just artwork and a few framed posters.

“So…” began David, unsure of what he should
say.

“So…” echoed Jess in an exact imitation of
David. “Why don’t we talk? You can ask me some questions, I can ask
you some. Perhaps we can both clear up some minor issues, and I can
try to help you understand why Genevieve is so… well, so much like
Genevieve can be.”

David had to stifle a giggle. Of all the
things the mysterious Jess could have said, this was about the
least expected.

“Okay. First off, why… um, why is it so hard
for me to keep her… close to me? And no,” David interrupted
himself, “that didn’t come out right. Let me try again. Why is it
that whenever she and I reach a certain level of intimacy, it
always feels as if the rug gets pulled out from under me? From
under both of us?”

“Physical intimacy? Or emotional?”

David felt a blush strike his cheeks.
“Emotional.
Some
times tied in with the physical.” He
couldn’t believe he was saying all this to someone he’d never met.
“It just seems as if every time we bond, a day later, or even the
next morning, she’s pulled away. Purposely distanced herself.”

“She was hurt, David. Badly. It’s hard for
her, to trust anyone.”

“You mean Todd.”

“Yes. I mean Todd.”

Silence then for a few long seconds. David
could hear Jess breathing: slow, careful intakes as she assessed
his responses.

“She’s older than you too, David. That can
make for a divide.”

“She’s not
that
much older.”

“She’s thirty-six, you’re thirty-one. That
age gap can create differences, all on its own.”

“I never feel that she’s older than me, or
that I’m younger. I don’t see her as anyone other than who she
is.”

“That’s one of the things she likes about
you. A lot, as a matter of fact. That you don’t classify her, or
stereotype her.”

“I do feel sometimes that I’m not good
enough for her. That I can’t measure up to… To…”

“To your own image of who you should be? Or
to Todd?”

David sighed. “Either. Both.”

Jess laughed, a low-pitched ripple of
amusement. “Define ‘good enough,’ David. Or maybe don’t even try.
Genevieve’s better than most of us. She always has been. Neither
you nor I – nor Todd – can ever measure up.”

“Why did they break up? Why did he leave
Shady Grove?”

A clearing of her throat. The singsong
returned. “I’m sure that you’ve gone over that with her. Too many
times, at least from what I’ve been told.”

“She wanted to talk about it!” David tried
not to sound defensive. “She wanted to explore things, let me in on
the reasons why she acted certain ways. I know I’ve gone… overboard
at times, for lack of a better adjective, but she kept bringing it
up, she kept bringing
him
up!”

“And you feel that Todd was the love of her
life? And you’re the rebound-style leftovers?”

“No! Or yes. Or maybe sometimes. They were
together for seven years. I know she lived with you for a good part
of that, but no matter what she tells me, she always clamps down on
why it ended. I know they never lived together, and may God help me
for saying this, I totally get that – even after eighteen months, I
still feel like a guest at her house! But aside from that, I sense
that while part of her despises Todd, I also sense that she hasn’t
gotten over him. That she loves him still, and
that’s
who
I’m competing against. This hunky, goodtime ex-football player who
exists in her mind, and never ages, or says the wrong thing, or
forgets to bring his phone with him everywhere he goes.”