The Wild Zone (26 page)

Reluctant footsteps approached. “What’s the matter?” a woman’s voice snarled from inside. “You forget your keys at your girlfriend’s?” The door opened. His stepmother stood on the other side, her expression modulating from anger to surprise to dismay and then to outright horror. “Oh, my God,” she said, collapsing against the side of the door as if Jeff had surprised her with a sucker punch. “My son . . . ,” she cried out.

Jeff was about to reach for her, to take her in his grateful arms, hug her to his chest, tell her all was forgiven, that there was still time to make things right between them.

“Oh, God. What’s happened?” his stepmother demanded. “Was there an accident? Is he all right?”

It took Jeff a few seconds to digest that the son she was referring to was not him but Will. Of course, he thought, his arms withdrawing, his body stiffening as it turned to ice. “There’s nothing wrong with Will,” he told her, his voice flat. “He’s fine, having the time of his life, in fact.”

His stepmother pulled herself up to her full height, cool blue eyes narrowing. She was almost five feet ten inches tall, even in the ratty pink slippers she was wearing. An imposing presence no matter how casually she was dressed, Jeff thought, noting that her raven hair was streaked with gray at the temples, giving her a vaguely skunk-like appearance, not helped by her narrow face and almost nonexistent upper lip. Not the most generous of assessments, Jeff knew, aware she’d been considered something of a beauty in her prime, but then, what the hell? His moment of generosity had passed. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?” she asked, tugging the sides of her pale green terry-cloth housecoat tight around her.

“My mother’s dying,” Jeff said simply. “Ellie says she only has a few days left.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” his stepmother said, managing to sound as if she meant it. “Did you want to come in? I’m afraid your father’s not here. . . .”

Jeff’s lips curled into a smile as he recalled her greeting from the other side of the door.
What’s the matter? You forget your keys at your girlfriend’s?
“Nice to see some things never change.”

“You look just like him, you know. It’s really quite uncanny.”

“So I’ve been told.” Jeff bristled and turned away. “You ever hear from Kathy?” he heard himself ask, his eyes returning to the house two doors down.

“Kathy? You mean Kathy Chapin? Why on earth would you ask about her?”

“Just curious.”

“We lost touch years ago. Why?” she asked again.

“No reason.”

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds. “Why don’t you come inside?” she suggested again. “I could put on a pot of coffee. Who knows—your father might just surprise us and come home early.”

“Not much chance of that.” Jeff retreated down the front steps, wondering if his stepmother’s newfound compassion was the result of genuine concern or if she was simply tired of being alone.

“Tell Will to phone his mother every now and then,” she called after him.

“I’ll do that,” Jeff said without looking back.

TWENTY-SIX

W
HAT
A STRANGE DAY
this has turned out to be, Kristin was thinking as she stripped off the last of her clothes and pulled the covers from her bed. It had started with one phone call and ended with another, a series of lies uneasily filling the space in between. Was Jeff really in Buffalo, as he’d claimed, or was this yet another falsehood? He’d been so adamant about not going home to see his mother. What had happened to change his mind?

Kristin crawled between the cool white sheets, quickly flipping from her right side to her left, replaying their earlier conversation in her head. “I’ll explain everything as soon as I get back,” he’d said.

Explain what exactly?

And that cryptic message regarding Suzy.
If Suzy shows up at the bar, just get Will to take her to the apartment, and don’t tell anyone where
she is.
What was that all about? Had Suzy contacted him yet again? Had something happened to make Jeff fear for her immediate safety? Whatever it was, Kristin decided, settling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling, Suzy hadn’t come by the bar. Nor had she called. So what was really going on? And should she call Suzy, demand to know exactly what was happening? She didn’t like being kept in the dark. She didn’t like not knowing where things stood.

One thing she knew for sure: Jeff had won his bet. He and Suzy were now lovers; of that she was certain. She’d known it was a done deal the moment *69 had informed her it was Suzy who’d called their apartment at six thirty yesterday morning.

Something else she knew: Jeff might have won his bet, but he’d lost his heart.

More like his mind, Kristin decided with a laugh, thinking it was unlike her to be so melodramatic. She flipped back onto her right side, brought her knees to her chest, unable to find a comfortable position.

So how did she really feel about this latest development? Was she upset or hurt? Was she afraid of being abandoned? She sighed, long and deep. The truth was that she’d known almost from the minute she and Jeff had said hello that it was only a matter of time before he said good-bye. Even as she was moving in, she’d felt him starting to mentally move out, and she’d been okay with that. She understood the instinct for self-preservation that made him keep her—keep all women—at an emotional arm’s length, just as she understood instinctively that no matter how good she was to him or how much freedom she allowed him, eventually he’d grow restless and seek out new challenges, and that sooner or later, he’d find someone to replace her. Especially if that someone played her cards right, if she was vaguely mysterious, made him work hard to get her attention while simultaneously appealing to his masculine ego by making him feel needed.

Kristin had never been especially mysterious or challenging. She’d certainly never been very good at making men feel needed.

Amazing the power of the damsel in distress, she thought now, knowing intuitively that it was the men with the most tarnished self-images who made the best knights in shining armor. But smart as she was, she’d never considered the possibility Jeff might actually fall in love.

Or that his feelings might be reciprocated.

This was something she hadn’t considered.

Is it possible? Kristin wondered, her eyes opening wide, penetrating the surrounding darkness.

Where exactly would that leave her?

She heard footsteps in the hall outside her door, the creak of the bathroom door as Will opened and closed it after him. Seconds later, she heard the flush of the toilet and the sound of water running in the sink. She imagined Will, his hair falling into the half-closed eyes of his tired, puzzled face, as he washed his hands and brushed his teeth. When she’d told him of Jeff’s phone call—the fact that he’d gone to Buffalo, his instructions regarding Suzy—he’d simply shrugged and ordered another beer. He’d said nothing, although she’d noted his eyes were glued to the bar’s front door all night, as if he was waiting for Suzy to walk through. She wondered how he really felt about his brother and Suzy. Kristin suspected he was as confused by what was happening as she was.

Whatever was going on inside him, he wasn’t sharing any of those feelings with her. Will had feigned sleep in the car on the drive back from the bar and collapsed on the sofa bed fully clothed as soon as they’d entered the apartment. When she’d asked him if he felt like some hot chocolate or a piece of the apple pie she’d picked up at Publix that afternoon, he hadn’t even bothered to grunt out a reply, although she could tell by the stiff arc of his shoulders that he wasn’t asleep.

She doubted that either of them would get much sleep tonight.

Seconds later, Kristin heard the bathroom door open, and she lay there, waiting for the sound of Will’s retreating footsteps. But it never came. She sat up in bed. “Will?” she called through the closed bedroom door.

Nothing.

“Will,” she called again, gathering her sheets around her as the bedroom door slowly opened.

“Did I wake you?” he asked from the hallway.

“No.”

“Having trouble sleeping?”

“Having trouble
falling
asleep,” she corrected him.

“Me, too.”

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” she asked, as she’d asked earlier.

“No.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. Just can’t sleep. Too many thoughts.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

“I don’t know. They’re all pretty vague,” she lied.

“Maybe you’re just not used to sleeping alone,” Will said.

“Maybe.”

A moment’s silence, then, “Can I come in a minute?”

“Sure. Just give me a second to put something on.” Kristin reached for the pink silk robe that lay at the foot of the bed and quickly wrapped it around her. “Okay. You can come in now.”

Will pushed open the bedroom door and took several tentative steps inside the room. “It’s freezing in here,” he remarked, hugging his arms to his sides.

“Jeff likes it pretty cold when he sleeps.” Kristin noted that Will was still wearing the blue button-down shirt and khaki slacks he’d had on earlier, although his feet were bare.

“What about what
you
like?” he asked.

“I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

Will moved cautiously into the room, his eyes still not adjusted to the dark. “Uh-oh. I just stepped on something.” He bent down, scooped up several items of discarded clothing. Kristin’s black push-up bra dangled limply from his right hand. “Sorry. I think I may have killed it.”

Kristin laughed. “That’s all right. I don’t need it anyway. One of the benefits of having plastic breasts.” She patted the space beside her on the bed. “Come sit down.”

“Should I turn on a light?”

“If you want.”

“I don’t, really.”

“Good. I washed my face. Definitely not a pretty sight.”

“You’re crazy. I already told you I think you look better without makeup.” He perched at the edge of the bed.

Kristin felt the bed sag to accommodate him. She saw his eyes reach through the darkness toward hers. “Thank you. You’re very sweet.”

“It’s the truth. And I’m not sweet.”

“I think you are.”

“Maybe in comparison to Jeff. . . .”

They were silent for several seconds.

“You want to talk about it?” Kristin asked.

“About what?”

“About what’s happening with Jeff and Suzy.”

“What’s happening with Jeff and Suzy?” Will repeated, turning the statement into a question.

“I’m not sure.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Yes, I am,” Kristin agreed.

“You think they’re sleeping together,” Will stated.

“Yes.”

“You weren’t sure this afternoon.”

“I’m sure now,” she told him.

“Why? What’s changed?”

“Jeff.”

“I don’t understand. Did he tell you they were sleeping together?”

“No.”

“So, how—”

“I just know.”

“Female intuition?”

“It was his voice,” Kristin said after a brief pause.

“His voice?” Will repeated.

“On the phone. The way he said Suzy’s name. It was just . . . different.”

“Different?”

“They’re sleeping together, Will,” Kristin said.

Will leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, his chin in the palms of his hands. “Yeah,” he agreed.

“Try not to take it personally,” she advised him after another moment’s pause. “I don’t.”

Will swiveled his head toward her. “How can you not take it personally? Your boyfriend is sleeping with another woman.”

“It’s really no big deal.”

“I
really
don’t believe you.”

This time it was Kristin who shrugged. “Fine. Don’t believe me.”

“I think he’s crazy,” Will said. “To cheat on someone like you.”

“He’s Jeff,” Kristin said. He’s a man, she thought.

“I’d never do something like that.”

“No?”

“Not if I had somebody like you.”

“You don’t know me very well, Will.”

“I think I do.”

“What do you know?”

“I know what I see.”

“And just what is it you see when you look at me?” Kristin asked, suddenly needing to know. “Beyond the fake boobs and the dyed blond hair and the false eyelashes? Tell me what you see.” She saw Will’s eyes travel across the planes of her face.

“I see a woman with a beautiful soul,” Will said.

“You see my soul?” Kristin tried to laugh, but the laugh caught in her throat and her eyes stung with tears.

“I’ve upset you.” Will’s fingers fluttered toward her face, stopping when they got close. “I’m sorry.”

Kristin covered her mouth with her hand. “I think that’s probably the sweetest thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“Sweet,” Will repeated, his hand dropping into his lap. “That word again.”

“Nothing wrong with being sweet, Will.”

“Except I’m not.”

“And I don’t have a beautiful soul.”

“I think you do.”

“Then like I said, you don’t know me very well.”

“I know all I have to know,” Will insisted.

“No,” Kristin said, taking his right hand in hers and lifting it to her breasts. “I’m a human Barbie doll, Will. Plastic from the toes up.”

“No,” he said, his fingers trembling.

“They’re fake, Will. I’m fake.”

“I can feel your heart pounding. Don’t tell me that isn’t real.”

She shook her head. “It isn’t important,” she said.

“You don’t believe that.”

Kristin loosened her silk robe, took Will’s hand, moved it across her bare breasts. “You want to know what I feel when you touch me here?” she asked, guiding his fingers from one nipple to the other. “Nothing,” she answered before he could respond. “I don’t feel anything. You know why? Because all the nerves were damaged by the surgery. So my breasts look great—hell, they look fantastic—but I don’t feel a whole lot. Don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “I’m not complaining. It’s fine by me. I consider it more than a fair trade. I learned a long time ago that feelings are way overrated.”

“You don’t feel anything when I touch you?” Will asked, his hand now moving on its own, gently massaging first one breast, then the other.

“Not really,” Kristin said, trying to ignore the slight stirring between her legs.

“How about here?” Will leaned forward to kiss the side of her neck.

Kristin heard a moan escape her lips as Will’s tongue brushed against her ear.

“Or here?” His lips touched down tenderly on hers.

“Remind me to get my lips done,” she said hoarsely.

“Don’t you dare do anything to these lips. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not,” she insisted.

“Tell me you don’t feel anything now,” he said, pushing her robe away from her shoulders, his mouth replacing his hands on her breasts.

“I don’t feel anything,” she whispered, unconvincing even to her own ears, as she arched her back to accommodate his lips.

“What about now?” His fingers traced a line from her belly button to her pubis, disappearing between her legs.

Kristin groaned, a mixture of both pleasure and recognition. Despite her best efforts, she found herself comparing Will’s tentative advances to his brother’s more assured touch. And soon, an unwanted image began tugging at her brain. In her mind’s eye, she saw Jeff with Suzy, felt his deft hands on her bruised flesh, his expert tongue seeking out the folds of her most tender places even as she felt Will’s tongue teasing at her own. No, she thought, shaking her head from side to side in an effort to rid her mind of such images, the thought taking shape and acquiring sound, becoming a word. “No,” she said as she felt Will fumbling with his zipper. “No,” she said louder as she pushed him away. “No,” she said, crying as she gathered her robe around her and sobbed into the palms of her hands. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“It’s okay,” she heard Will say, his voice small, as unsteady as her own. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”

“No. I’m the one who—”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I tried to seduce you,” she admitted.

“Why do you think I came in here?” he asked.

They laughed, although the laugh was one of shared recognition rather than of joy. “I just kept picturing the two of them together,” she said, pushing her hair away from her face, digging her long fingernails into her scalp, as if trying to physically remove all such images.

“My brother’s an idiot,” Will said, pushing himself to his feet.

“Agreed.”

“Guess we have that in common, at least.”

“You’re not an idiot, Will.”

“And I’m not my brother,” Will acknowledged sadly.

You’re better than he is,
Kristin was about to say. But before she could form the words, Will was gone.

HE WALKED INTO
the kitchen, made himself a cup of instant coffee. What the hell? He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight anyway. Will sucked the aromatic steam into his nostrils as his fingers wrapped around the cheap ceramic mug, a pink flamingo emblazoned on its side, its handle the crooked leg of the ungainly, yet beautiful, bird.
WELCOME TO MIAMI
was scrawled in bold black cursive lettering across the bottom.