he’d call.
Irene had warned me clearly, while ignoring Jonathan, that there was to be nothing going on behind the closed door that might bring a heart rate up. But, just in case I didn’t know, he was being monitored from the nurse’s station. So no quote, funny business, unquote.
We laughed when the door closed. I wanted to lie on top of him, press my thighs to his, and tuck my head into the crook of his neck, but that was impossible. I leaned over, sitting in the adjacent chair, and kissed his cheek.
“Do you regret it?” I said.
“I feel relieved.”
“I’m glad.”
“I wish I could give you a wedding night. Throw you over my shoulder, dress and all, and carry you over the threshold. We wouldn’t even make it up the stairs.”
I made a satisfied purr. “I can just imagine it. Who’s house?
“Our house.”
“Is there a porch?”
“More than one, and I’ll have you on all of them, regularly. Breakfast in the back. Lunch on the side, and after dinner, we’ll drink wine on the front porch and I’ll make love to you in the night air.”
“Can I still call you sir?”
“I expect no less.”
“Thank you, sir.” I kissed his hand, letting my lips linger on his skin.
“And here we are,” he said, “married, and we never even talked about children.”
“Can we pretend we had them?”
“Four,” he said with a slight smile.
“Don’t be greedy.”
“Three. Can we settle on three?”
I should have agreed to ten children, because there were going to be exactly none. There was going to be no house, no porches, no family.
“Can I admit something to you, my beautiful wife?”
“Yes.”
“I’m scared.”
I squeezed his hand and laid my head next to him. That was when the machine’s beeping was replaced with a high, constant whine.
CHAPTER 29.
MONICA
I stood in the hall, staring at his door.
They’d just done CPR. Changed the tube. Pumped more drugs into him. Assured me there wasn’t a spare heart with his blood type anywhere but Paulie Patalano’s chest.
What the hell were we made of? Sausage casings and prime cuts to be wrapped up and swapped out as needed. I felt ill. The twisting in my gut told me to run into the bathroom and bend over the toilet. But nothing came, because I hadn’t eaten in Lord knew how long. When I returned, panicking , he was alive, stable and unconscious.
All the wrong things seemed definite and secure. I knew he loved me. I knew he was right in my life. But the very life that fit mine so perfectly, was going to end. Soon. Tomorrow. The next day. Didn’t matter. Too soon. And the house of our love would crumble under a cracked foundation.
I found myself outside Dr. Thorensen’s office. He’d have answers, or at least different questions.
“You’re here,” I said.
He was in the dark again, shades drawn, screens flashing. “Come in. Wanna play?”
“I can’t believe you get away with this.”
“I’m waiting to hear about something.”
“Jonathan?”
“Sit.”
“Is there a heart somewhere?”
He sighed. “I’m getting him put on the emergency list. I’m pretty sure it’ll go through in an hour, but I don’t want to leave until I see it. Come on. Sit. Your avatar’s on the cloud. We can start you from the beginning.”
I hesitated. He patted the seat of the couch behind him. “Come.”
“Fine.”
I sat, kicking off my shoes and tucking my feet under me. He rolled his chair back until the back of it pressed against the couch, where it was already indented from hours of play.
“You ready? There you are. I made you look like you.”
“Jesus, I don’t look like that.” My avatar was ravishing.
“Yeah, you do. Okay, so we start out in the wood. Forest all over, and we’re lost. We have to solve this puzzle before our guide comes, hold on there! Get them!”
We shot down a leopard, a lion, and a wolf. We avoided shooting a blind guy. As a reward he set us a puzzle to solve. We had that sorted out in no time, and I saw something I recognized.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE
“Such a cheerful game, Brad. Don’t you have something with bunnies?”
“You can come over and play that next week.”
I had no time to make that into a joke. We had to navigate a parade, and a flag, right, left, left, right and still get to our destination, a boat on a black river.
“Tell me something,” I said. “What are the odds of him getting a heart in time?”
“Can’t say. Hit left, left. Nice.”
“Do I duck the guy in the Pope hat?”
“God, yes.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t or won’t what? Just don’t let him touch you.”
“Can’t or won’t say about the heart. Fuck.”
“Oh! Nice move. Both. His blood type’s rare, so a good heart is hard enough but…okay, see that opening right there? Hit your blue button and the joystick at the same time.”
“Is there any way to speed it up? The heart thing? Shit! Wait…”
“You got it…no. Only what I’m doing. Pushing him up the list.” His shoulders slumped. “We’re in. River Acheron. Good job. You earned the coins so give one to the guy in the hood.”
I clicked my buttons. “He won’t take it.”
“That’s weird.” He took the controller from me.
“What about the mafia guy? The brain dead one. If he died, would Jonathan get his heart?”
Brad was focused on the controls. “I can’t promise anything. Crap. I heard this happens sometimes.”
“What?”
“You’re stuck in the vestibule. That’s your sin. Wow. I guess we can make you a new avatar.”
“My sin?” I asked. “Which one?”
He threw the controller down and kicked his feet up on the couch. “The vestibule is where you go when you don’t take sides on an issue. Like when you could have taken action, but didn’t. Or, look. I’m not going to pretend to be a philosopher. But you were probably just feeling passive when you answered the questions. Wanna do it again?”
I thought for a second. Did I want to sit in Brad’s tiny office until sunrise, waiting for Jonathan to get bumped up a list, or did I want to make a decision, one way or the other, about helping him?
