afternoon, she had taken a nap. I suppose I should have done the same.
Still, the reality was that we’d probably have gotten to bed earlier had it not been for the fact that we were both worried about Ben. Before his harried departure, he had made it a point to ask if we would be available later. Felicity had been gone less than four hours, and I hadn’t left at all, making sure to hang loose in anticipation of his return or at the very least, his call.
However, later came and went without so much as a word from him, and in our minds that was troublesome.
After what I considered to be a reasonable wait, I had tried contacting him myself-several times in fact. I had alternated between his cell, his apartment, and his work number. From the cellular, I was greeted only with a full voice mailbox, which wasn’t a big surprise considering his disdain for all things computerized. To be honest, I was still amazed he even had the mailbox set up at all.
His work number at the homicide division had shifted almost immediately to voice mail itself, and his home phone hadn't been any better. There, the answering machine had provided a terse, recorded demand to “leave a freakin’ message if ya’ feel like ya’ gotta.” At least neither of them told me they were full, and after a number of aborted attempts, I did as they instructed, leaving messages in both places. It was pretty much all that I could do.
I’m sure that the worry over our friend combined with the overtiredness hadn’t been helping matters for either of us. And of course, in my case I still had the nagging throb inside my skull to contend with as well. Still, I’d finally managed to ignore it for just long enough to actually feel sleep coming my way. That is, until Felicity put a halt to that idea.
Since there didn’t seem to be a follow up question forthcoming, I tried to relax again and let my mind drift. Unfortunately, like it had earlier, it kept coming back around to the crime scene, the heart shape, and then the pain. I flashed on a memory of watching a program about neurosurgery, probably all because of that unrelenting thud inside my head. It had been some years back on one of the educational cable channels, and I recalled that something was mentioned about the grey matter itself not feeling pain.
I considered the memory for a moment then decided that while it may well be true, you certainly weren’t going to be able to convince me of the fact. Not right now, anyway.
As if reading my thoughts, Felicity broke the dark silence once again. “Is it getting worse?”
I was still awake enough to catch it on the first go around.
“Not yet,” I told her.
“Did you take anything for it?”
“It’s not that kind of headache. You know that.”
“That’s not what I asked,” she pressed.
“Yeah,” I murmured. “I took something.”
She paused for a long while, and once again, thinking the impromptu interrogation was over, I started trying to relax.
My wife, however, decided to prove my assumption wrong again and suddenly asked, “What did you take?”
I grumbled, “Does it really matter?”
“No. Not really I guess.”
“Okay then.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“So, what did you take?”
I sighed heavily then rolled to the side and fumbled for the switch on the reading lamp next to the bed. After a quick grope, I located the thumbwheel and flicked it on then rolled the opposite direction to face the redheaded chatterbox curled up next to me.
“Okay, what’s up?” I asked.
She twisted beneath the covers and snuggled in close. “I can’t sleep.”
“No kidding,” I replied with exaggerated sarcasm. “So I guess if you can’t sleep, nobody else is going to either?”
“You weren’t asleep,” she told me.
“I almost was.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Sure I was.”
“No. You weren’t.”
“How do you know?”
“When you’re asleep you snore. You weren’t snoring.”
“You didn’t give me a chance.”
“Aye, what’s it matter? You’re awake now.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So… Do you think Ben is all right?” she asked.
“Probably,” I told her, not wanting to let on that I was probably even more worried than she. “He’s a big boy. And besides, he’s got a gun.”
“He just seemed a bit…” She hesitated. “I don’t know… Scattered, when he left.”
“Yeah,” I agreed then added, “But he did say it was something personal.”
“I hope nothing’s wrong, then,” she said.
“Me too,” I replied.
“You don’t think something happened to Ben Junior, do you?” she asked with a mild urgency suddenly overtaking her voice.
“I doubt it,” I returned. “He would have told us if it was something like that.”
“Aye, I suppose he would have.”
She grew quiet again, and I contemplated her spate of concern over our friend. Considering how calm she usually remained, with the exception of her occasional display of stereotypical Irish temper, I found her change in demeanor to be somewhat out of character. The more I dwelled on it, the more I wondered why.
“You’re awfully concerned about Ben all of a sudden,” I stated.
“Shouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Just doesn’t seem like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, then?”
“Just making an observation.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Do I need to be?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you answered your own question, didn’t you?”
“I’m just worried,” she said after a moment. “That’s all.”
Something in the back of my head told me that while I knew she had a genuine concern for Ben’s well being, vocalizing it was just a smokescreen. It was a surrogate for what was truly worrying her. And, I was pretty sure I knew what it was that had her in its grip. While it was something she’d never had a problem talking about before, the fact that she was hiding from it told me her concern had grown and now went even deeper than it ever had in the past.
I took a chance that I was correct and slipped my arm around her as I said, “It’s okay, Felicity. I’m going to be okay.”
I felt her shoulders fall as she slowly let out a heavy breath, confirming my suspicion.
“How did you know?” she finally asked.
“What? That I’m the one you’re really worried about, you mean?”
“Aye.”
“Just a feeling.”
She sighed heavily again and then snuggled in even closer. “I don’t want this to start again, Row.”
“I don’t want it to either, but I don’t really think we have a choice, honey.”
