I’m heading downtown to meet Teo. When I texted him from the therapist’s parking lot, I wasn’t sure he’d agree to meet me. Not after the way we left things last time. But I have a lure, one I was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to resist, and I was, sadly, right. I use it right off, not wanting to find out if my own request would be sufficient. I can’t take any more rejection right now, not even that of someone who’s rejected me already.
When I get to the coffee shop around the corner from the Compensation Initiative, Teo’s already sitting at a table, though I’m ten minutes early. He’s wearing his trademark outfit, that smooth path he’s created through life.
He stands when I get to our table.
“Let me help you with that.”
He takes my coat and hangs it on a hook on the wall, then returns with a large cup of coffee for me.
“You take it black, right?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“How’ve you been?”
“Fine.”
I take a sip. It’s too hot and scalds my tongue, which seems about right for today.
Teo fiddles nervously with his napkin. He has a muffin in front of him, carrot, I think, but he hasn’t taken a bite.
“How are things with you?” I ask, feeling, like I did weeks ago, as if we’re in some well-mannered drama where we should be wearing period costumes.
“Fine. Busy.”
“How’s the documentary coming?”
“Chugging along. Obviously the news about Franny and Joshua is going to put a different spin on things.”
If only he knew.
“You didn’t see that coming?” I say, thinking of Julia.
“Frankly, no. She was still calling him Mr. Ring half the time in her sessions with me. And he’d skipped our last few appointments claiming he had work conflicts, which, in retrospect, I should’ve realized meant more than that he didn’t want to talk to me.”
He sounds frustrated, defeated.
“Do you ever think about giving it up?”
“What? Filmmaking?”
“Documentaries. I remember reading once about how you can spend years of your life on something and in the end, there’s no story there.”
“That can happen.”
“Not in this case, though.”
“If anything, there’s too much story.”
“Is that even possible?”
He shrugs. “It can be hard to keep three narrative threads balanced. And right now, I have two threads mixing, and though I have no idea what it is you’re about to tell me, I suspect things are going to get more complicated from here.”
“Oh, the tangled webs we weave.”
“Said the spider to the fly.”
“Interesting choice of response.”
“Nah, I just couldn’t remember the rest of that line.”
“Somehow, I highly doubt that.”
I try another sip of coffee. It’s cool enough, but I can’t taste if it’s good or bad given my scalded tongue. When did every little thing in my life start feeling like a metaphor?
“Am I right?” Teo asks.
“About what?”
“About why you wanted to meet.”
“Yes.”
“So what is it?”
“I need to establish some ground rules first.”
He leans back. “Such as?”
“I’m going to tell you something, but you’re going to have to take it on faith that what I’m saying is true. I’m not going to be able to tell you how I know it, and if you try to find out, I’ll get your funding pulled.”
“Whoa, wait. What?”
“I want you to know how serious I am.”
“If I tell you I’m not going to do something, you can trust me.”
“Can I?”
“Of course you can. What have I ever done to make you think you couldn’t?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Make me think you like me, ask me out, then tell me you can’t see me anymore the second it might come out that we’re dating. Or whatever the hell we were doing.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“It’s exactly what happened.”
He looks at his hands. “Okay, factually, yes, maybe. But you’re speaking as if I meant to hurt you, and I didn’t.”
“Maybe not, but you did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, join the club.”
Neither of us speaks for several moments. I’m doubting the wisdom of coming here, asking for his help. But I wanted to see him again and not just in the confines of an interview.
“Is that the only condition?” Teo asks eventually.
“I’ll also need your help.”
“How so?”
“What I’m going to tell you needs to be investigated. It needs to be independently confirmed. I don’t know how to do that, but I think you do.”
“And it’s related to the documentary?”
“Yes.”
“To Franny?”
“Why do you think that?”
“She seems the most likely candidate. I’ll do it. But I want something in return.”
“What?”
“One more interview with you. You’ve been holding back, I’m not sure what, but something. And part of the reason I did what I did was that if I were doing my job properly, I’d be looking into what that is.”
“You want to investigate me?”
“No, I don’t. That’s the problem. I’m more interested in preserving your privacy than in getting to the nitty-gritty. And I shouldn’t be. Not if I want to make the film I think I can.”
“So that’s why.”
“Yes. In part.”
“What would I have to do?”
“One more interview, like I said. But you tell me what it is you don’t want me to know.”
“And, assuming there is something, you’ll include it in the documentary?”
“That depends on what it is, I guess. But probably. That’s the idea.”
“I’m going to have to think about that.”
“I understand. So no agreement today?”
“I guess not.”
He picks a piece off the top of his muffin. “I don’t suppose you could give me a preview of what this is all about?”
“Nope.”
“It was worth a try. But you have to know the suspense is killing me.”
32
THE BIG DIG
KAITLYN
When Kaitlyn woke up in another unfamiliar bed in another basement, she thought she was dreaming. It was later than she usually slept, almost
