Subject: Why . . .
I think maybe I expect me to be.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Why . . .
You can’t be in our traveling band, Fuckups in Training, if you’re perfect.
Look, I know you’ll probably shoot me for saying this, but when we got back together, ten years later, when we were older and ready for that commitment, I felt like everything had worked out as it was supposed to.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Why . . .
Everything will turn out fine.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Why . . .
In this instance, yeah.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Why . . .
You still believe that?
From: [email protected]
Subject: Why . . .
That depends.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Why . . .
On what?
From: [email protected]
Subject: Why . . .
Whether you do.
67
The day Stephen was due to leave for California, he called Maribeth with an offer. “I know it’s last minute but I thought you could use my car while I’m gone,” he said. “You could even stay at the house if you like.”
Maribeth had no interest in living in his house, no matter how sweet a piece of real estate it might be. As for the car, she wasn’t sure. She’d gotten used to the bus. To life without a laptop, a smart phone. It was amazing, really, how little one needed.
“It’ll just be sitting there,” he added. “And you’ll save me the cost of parking at the airport.”
“So this is about the parking?”
“No. This is about me wanting to see you before I leave.”
“Then see me before you leave.”
IT WAS LIGHTLY snowing when he picked her up that afternoon. “Are you okay to drive in this?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Maribeth said. Then she caught the look of concern on his face. “How about if it gets heavier, we can leave your car at the airport, but I know how to drive in snow.”
“You do?”
“I grew up in the suburbs of New York.”
“Add another piece to the puzzle.”
“Am I really such a puzzle?”
“Yes, but I’ve always enjoyed puzzles.”
They were in the Fort Pitt Tunnel now. Coming back from Janice’s yesterday was the first time Maribeth had driven into the city this way.
“I see what the fuss is about,” she’d told Janice when they’d emerged onto the dramatic cityscape, the buildings, the slate river, the iron bridges.
“It’s a very impressive skyline,” Janice had said.
It was. But it was the surprise factor Maribeth had liked best. Coming into the tunnel through rolling Pennsylvania hills, with no hint of what was awaiting you on the other end.
You never knew, did you? Maybe not knowing didn’t have to be so terrifying. Maybe it could just be life.
“When do you get back?” Maribeth asked Stephen.
“January 3, though Mallory is angling for me to stay longer.”
“How much longer?”
“Why? Are you going to miss me?”
From the tug deep inside her stomach, she knew that she was.
“She’s on my case to move there. She says I need a fresh start. Too many ghosts here.”
“Ghosts have a way of following you,” Maribeth said. She was thinking of her birth mother, the silent ghost who had followed her around her entire life. It had been two days since she’d read the report. Janice had asked her if she wanted to take the next step, to ask the agency to send a letter to her birth mother. But Maribeth wasn’t ready for that.
“I suspect you’re right,” he said. “But it means a lot that Mal wants me to move closer to her. And so I have arranged to meet with a colleague of mine who’s now the dean at the UCSF Medical School.” He snuck a glance at her. “So how much do you hate San Francisco?”
“It’s your basic death-wish loathing.”
“That’s too bad. Because you know how I bought Mallory tickets for The Book of Mormon?”
“For New Year’s Eve, right?”
He nodded. “I bought a third ticket.” He fiddled with the heater buttons, even though the temperature was fine.
“Oh,” she said.
“I know it’s a long shot,” Stephen said when Maribeth didn’t answer. “Given how you feel about the city.”
They had arrived at the airport. He headed straight for departures, not the parking garage. “Don’t you want me to come in?” she asked.
“You can leave me at the curb,” he said. “I’d rather you get back before the snow gets worse.”
He pulled over and popped the trunk. Inside was a large suitcase.
“Looks like you might be gone a while.”