Chapter 18 #2
They continued down the other side of the bridge, walking more slowly, enjoying each other’s company. Peter was talking about the funk band he played guitar with on weekends, when he suddenly changed topic.
“Hey, remember that first rehearsal. I gave you a ride home and asked if you wanted to see a gig with me, and you said you weren’t in the right place to date?”
“Yes . . .”
Where was this going?
“Was that because you were feeling messed up by your amnesia? I guess it wasn’t long after your accident.”
Josie wanted to confide in him — but she couldn’t tell him the truth, of course.
“It wasn’t only that,” she admitted, after a moment. “The accident was a big part of it, psychologically. But I also wasn’t feeling emotionally ready to date anyone. I was . . . involved with someone. I’m still not over that.”
“Oh. You mean, you were involved with someone at the time of your last memory?”
Yet one more thing she hadn’t thought through.
“Uh, yes. From before. But to me, it feels like a few months ago. We loved each other, and then I wake up from an accident and he’s no longer in my life. I don’t know what happened. And my friends haven’t been able to help.”
“Man, that would suck. But I guess if he wasn’t still in your life and your friends don’t know about him, he wasn’t a serious boyfriend, right? Wait . . . Was it an affair?”
Josie sighed, wondering what hole she was digging for herself. But it was the best half-truth she could give him. “He was married. But I loved him, and last I knew, he loved me too. Before my amnesia.”
Peter nodded, his face lit by the off-ramp streetlights. “That would suck,” he said again.
At Josie’s building’s side entrance, Peter deposited the bike in the storage unit, then waited as Josie locked the door.
“Thanks for carrying my bike, it was kind of you. Drinks on me next week.”
Peter smiled in the dim light. “I’ll hold you to that, English.
” He turned away but stopped. “You know, that guy? I understand it still feels fresh for you, but he’s long gone out of your life now.
If he’s not kicking down your door to be with you, and only you, then he’s a fool. You deserve way better.”
Peter hesitated, placed his hand on top of Josie’s head and kissed her forehead.
“See you next week.”
* * *
“Well, enough about the twins. What’s the deal with this Peter dude, then? You keep mentioning him and you’re obviously having fun rehearsing this duet.” Suzie slurped her third post-work martini at the high-top table.
“God, you’re as bad as Lisa. Peter’s a lot of fun and super smart — I like chatting with him.
He lives nearby, so he drives me home sometimes, and once he walked with me, but I’m usually on my bike.
We’re friends. Not even that, really, since we don’t hang out outside choir. Friendly choir buddies.”
Suzie arched a well-plucked eyebrow. “Well, I remember him from your show last year and he is super-fine, so you should get this guy out of the friend zone and into the sack. He clearly likes you. What’s the issue? When was the last time you got laid, girl?”
Josie sighed into the dregs of her mason-jar cocktail.
Suzie had suggested they go out near her SoHo office instead of the usual haunts in Brooklyn, but Josie found herself exhausted by those kinds of places in a way she never used to when she was with Rob — and had money.
She had become accustomed to unlimited room on her credit card for overpriced food and drinks, and getting a seemingly free car home.
A home that had never seemed more than a few blocks away.
“You know what the issue is, Suze. I get that it’s hard for you to hear, as it’s not your version of events, but for me, I’m married. I keep telling you that.”
Suzie nodded slowly. “I do believe you. At least, I believe you believe it, and that’s enough for me.
But sweetie, you told me about Rob coming your radio show, and him not knowing you.
And that he has some hot girlfriend. So, in this life at least, you’re single.
Therefore totally allowed to date whoever you want. ”
Josie pressed her lips together. She didn’t feel single. “I suppose so. I like Peter, but I’m not sure it feels right. Let’s get the check, this place is crappy,” she grumbled, “and I need to go to bed early.”
Back home, Josie fired up her laptop to write her journal for the day. She scrolled back through the file to reread an entry from a couple of weeks back, which documented a moment that had been on her mind ever since. A chance encounter with Rob, on the street.
She’d been on Lexington Avenue, not far from the Chrysler Building, coming out of a restaurant where she had been having lunch with a work contact.
They had shaken hands goodbye, when she had turned and nearly bumped into Rob on the corner.
They were close to his office, but Josie had barely even thought about Rob that day, or the fact he worked nearby.
Rob stopped short. He looked like he was stepping out for some lunch, and seemed as surprised to see Josie as she was.
“Josie. Hey. It’s good to run into you.”
Josie didn’t know whether to expect a handshake, but she was surprised when he took her shoulders and leaned in for a chaste kiss on the cheek. Standard practice, perhaps, with female acquaintances.
She forced herself to sound calm. “Hey, Rob. How are you doing?”
“Fine. I kept meaning to tell you, I read your online piece after our interview. It was great. Very balanced.”
“Oh — thanks. I appreciated the story. We don’t get a lot of exclusives, being a radio station.”
“Glad to help. Were you in there for lunch?”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get back to the station. You going in?”
He nodded, gesturing over his shoulder. “Yeah, Surin and I are grabbing a bite before heading off to the Hamptons.”
It was then Josie realized that one of the two women chatting behind Rob was Surin, chic in a cream skirt suit and huge black sunglasses, inappropriate on a cloudy March day.
Surin had said goodbye to the other woman and walked up to them, removing the shades and linking a proprietary arm through Rob’s.
She examined Josie, waiting for an introduction.
“Honey, this is Josie Cavendish, the radio host who interviewed me a few weeks ago — you remember? Josie, this is my girlfriend, Surin Chan. She’s a realtor, so you guys should connect. I’m sure Surin has a bunch of stories for you.”
Surin had shown no sign of remembering being told about Josie. She offered a hand. “So nice to meet you.”
“Great to meet you,” Josie told her, even though that was far from the truth. “I know who your father is, of course. Let me give you my card . . .” She handed over her business card, which Surin eyed without reading, tightening her lips. Surin turned to Rob.
“Honey, we’ve got to eat if we’re going to beat the traffic.” She tugged his arm a little, and Josie saw him wince. But then he smiled at his girlfriend, then back at Josie.
“Good to see you, Josie. We’ll connect when I’ve got more projects to talk about.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Nice to bump into you.”
Surin put her sunglasses back on. “Awesome to meet you,” she murmured, without a trace of feeling, as she led Rob away.
Even though Josie had been due back at work, she had walked into Grand Central to think about the encounter. She’d felt somehow detached.
Was it possible she was starting to get over Rob?
Josie wondered the same thing now. The nightmares, so acute in January and February, had calmed down. She was obsessing over him and Surin, even the possibility of him with another Josie, much less than before. Maybe she was beginning to move on.
As Josie pondered, her laptop pinged. She checked her emails, hoping for some distraction.
Distraction obliged, in the form of an email from Peter.
Hey. I’ve got two tickets for Lauryn Hill, booked months ago, and I need a date. Say you’ll come with me! It’s next Saturday night. My Easter gift to you. You did say you had no Easter plans . . . :P
Screw it.
She typed a reply, quickly, so she wouldn’t change her mind.
Sure. It’s a date. J