Chapter 18
Mid-March
Josie woke in a cold sweat in the dead of night, the streetlights outside her little apartment casting an unnatural glow.
Moments before, she had been on the terrace of her and Rob’s home, the sun setting in violent colors over the city.
At the far end of the terrace, a couple embraced, indistinguishable in the fading light.
They were kissing by the railing, their lovely figures creating a silhouette against the red sky.
As she got closer, she saw the couple was Rob and Surin.
They turned to her and smiled, smug in their happiness.
They kissed again, and Surin’s face blended into Rob’s, her face morphing, shifting form to become Josie’s.
But the Other Josie. Kissing Rob. They turned to Josie again and laughed.
Laughed and laughed at her. She fled inside, tripping, falling, smashing her face, crimson blood seeping onto the white tile.
But in truth, it wasn’t Surin that Josie was picturing being with Rob. After their coffee chat, and the realization he didn’t know her, and really did have a girlfriend, Josie acknowledged that this guy wasn’t her Rob. Her own Rob, her husband, already loved her — and this man didn’t.
No, since Valentine’s Day, what was overwhelming her was the sense of the Other Josie being with her husband in the life she’d left behind.
What were they doing? Were they also having a party, in which She was the hostess? Were they a couple now, even though Other Josie knew Rob wasn’t really her husband?
Sleep was no relief: the nightmares had begun that same night. Always the two of them, kissing, laughing at her. Other Josie, knowing she’d stolen Josie’s husband, but doing it anyway. And Rob, knowing the woman in his arms wasn’t his true wife, still choosing her.
The sleep meds kicked in and she got a few more hours of rest before rising for work, tired and irritable, her back sore.
She’d forgotten how not having a super-expensive mattress hurt her back.
Josie resolved to save for an upgrade, but she was still paying off her month-long Christmas trip to the UK, as well as Jean Grey, her other major indulgence, the bike she’d bought to replace Electra.
Under the tiny but hot shower, Josie’s thoughts turned to the theory she’d been pondering since her stay at Suzie’s after the accident.
The idea that the intersection at Third and 25th, where she’d nearly hit those college students on the way to the conference at which she’d first met Rob, was some kind of parallel timeline soft spot, a tear in the fabric of the universe, created by that near-miss accident three years ago.
A moment in which her life had split, where in another reality, she had hit those students and never made it to the conference, and therefore missed meeting Rob.
One life path had forked into two possibilities in that instant. So when both Josies crashed on the same day at the exact same spot, on her birthday, it was enough to merge the universes for a second, and each Josie had ended up in the wrong life. Of course, the idea was preposterous . . .
But if it were true, it also meant that same intersection was the key to Josie getting back to her own life. If returning to her reality was what she wanted, of course. Yes, she could maybe get back to her Rob — but she would lose David again.
At the radio station, she tried to let the routine of work distract from the memory of her nightmares, which still clung to her like a bad smell. But even lunch with Abby did little to improve her mood. It was only when her phone dinged around 4 p.m. that she felt a tiny hit of endorphin.
David
Hey kiddo, hope you’re good. Wanted to let you know Anna and I have booked our flights!
We’re arriving JFK April 12, give us a chance to get over jet lag before the big celebration.
Can’t believe I’m getting old!! 40 is the new 30, I guess.
:O Mum and Laura etc. have already booked flights and I’ve sorted their hotel.
Glad you’ll be putting me and Anna up, it’s pricey enough paying for their accomms. ’:O Gonna be fun, NYC here we come! :D
Josie smiled. Anna, the redhead David had met on New Year’s Eve, seemed to be quite the fixture in his life these days. Perhaps they were getting serious — a first for David. It was certainly a big step for Anna to be part of this family visit next month.
She typed back:
Look out, Brooklyn, the Cavendish clan is descending en masse! Looking forward to it, old man. Got your pressie already, don’t expect anything fancy just cos it’s your 40th — I’m broke right now. Your presents will have to be our presence! Ha, maybe not completely. Jx
The prospect of having her whole family stay in Brooklyn for David’s 40th was just the uplift Josie needed.
David had insisted on them all being together for the big day and had even offered to pay for the others’ hotel in Williamsburg.
Laura and Adam, who hadn’t been to New York since before Theo, and were always keen on a good deal, had jumped at the chance.
Of course, that meant their mother was easily persuaded.
Josie’s spirit was a little brighter riding down to the Lower East Side for rehearsal.
At least it wasn’t dark and cold, as it had been for months.
The evening was warmer than usual, and it was nice to be arriving at the church in daylight.
Josie fastened Jean Grey to the railings and went inside. Singing would make her feel better.
She was a little early. The basses were running through their comedic take on “All About That Bass” when she arrived.
She sat in a corner, watching them, enjoying it.
Peter, by far the tallest, was in the middle, and revved up his performance when he saw her.
He grinned during the line, “And I can make you swoon, like I’m supposed to do,” and pointed at her.
The other basses nudged each other and waggled their eyebrows.
Sure, it was all part of the skit that they’d do that to some other woman in the audience in the real performance.
But it made her laugh. Peter was good at making her laugh.
Throughout the rehearsal, he was in fine form, making frequent wisecracks.
At one point, when he was being reprimanded for talking, he gave Josie a conspiratorial wink when the director’s back was turned.
Josie laughed out loud, and the director whipped around to glare at her too.
Josie made a face at Peter for getting her into trouble, and they both grinned.
With Josie still catching up on their duet, the two of them stayed behind afterward, along with the director, to rehearse “Can’t Sleep Love” for the summer show.
Emboldened by their earlier camaraderie, Peter took Josie’s hands in both of his and sang words of love and passion right to her face, making her blush and stumble over her lyrics.
By the time they were done, it was after ten, and though tired, Josie was more cheerful than she had been in weeks. She slipped outside while Peter was helping the director close up and went to unlock Jean Grey from the railings.
Oh, crap.
The wheels had been stolen.
Josie was so accustomed to locking Electra anywhere, always safe because of her security locks, she’d forgotten to be careful with the new bike until she had the same locks added.
“Fuck!” Josie cursed out loud.
“Now, now, young lady. You realize this is a place of worship?” Peter’s voice came from behind her.
“Sorry. My wheels have been nicked.”
“Oh shit. They have, as you say, been ‘nicked’. That’s too bad.” He looked around. “How will you get home? I’d offer you a ride, but my car’s in the shop, so I’m walking.”
“I could walk too. It’s not too far, and it’s not cold. I’ll have to leave Jean Grey here until I can take her to a shop. There’s one nearby, I think.”
“And one by your place, right? On Bedford? That’d be easier.”
“Yeah, but I can’t get her there,” Josie pointed out. “No wheels. I don’t think I can get her inside a cab.”
“She’s pretty light, I can carry her to yours, if you want.”
“Really? Yes, thank you.” Josie didn’t bother to mask her relief.
She unlocked the bike. Peter took the frame, hooking it over his shoulder, carrying it as if it weighed nothing. They started walking.
“So . . . Jean Grey? Your bike is a she and has a name?”
“Yes. They’re always Marvel superheroes. In London, there was Lady Sif, who now belongs to my sister and is sorely neglected, and then when I got to New York, there was Electra, who died in my accident a few months ago. And now Jean Grey.”
“Right. How’s it going, with your amnesia?”
“It’s . . . tough. There are lots of people I don’t remember.
I didn’t even know my job, or my apartment.
I lost memories from around fall 2014. All the people I’ve worked with, or met since then, I don’t recognize.
Even though I’ve told people I have amnesia, they still feel hurt I don’t remember them.
Like they should have left some indelible mark. ”
“You mean, like me.” He smiled, hitching the bike farther onto his shoulder.
Josie grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“I know. No offense taken.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that bike?” she asked. “We’ve got the whole bridge to cross.”
“I’m great,” he insisted. “Couldn’t leave Jean Grey alone and naked on the Lower East Side, could we?”
On the walk home, Peter proved a warm companion, asking thoughtful questions about the effects of Josie’s supposed amnesia but also teasing her about her memory.
In rehearsals, Peter had emerged as the charismatic class clown — but in their duet rehearsals and one-on-one, he was considerate and kind, even nurturing, while still often a bit silly.
Josie was beginning to realize she liked him, as a person, very much.
At the apex of the bridge, they stopped for a moment, looking north over the city lights. “I need to switch arms. Walk on the other side of me.”