There was something loving about the way itwas displayed. The movie hadn’t had much success but there it was, in frontwith current and classic hits, a whole stack of them with one copy facing out. HadCharlie Bass frequented this store? Been a friend? Was this a tender monumentto an actor who had lived just doors away?
Liddy went inside and bought a copy. Theowner was out but a young assistant told her yes, Charlie used to come here,hang out. “He was always over there in the corner reading.” The young manpointed to a battered chair. “Really a sweet guy. We miss him.”
Liddy left with the DVD.
Still felt so ebullient that she bought twofat pastrami sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil and walked – a bit painful butgood exercise - the six blocks to Paul’s lab; walked past grad students workingat lines of microscope-studded counters to Paul and Carl’s workstation. Theyhad a long counter to themselves.
“Brought lunch,” she smiled as Paul in hiswhite coat looked up surprised from a mouse cage; then Carl feet away in hiswhite coat turned from talking to a third man not in a white coat.
“Oh,” Liddy said. “Hi Ben.”
Ben Allen, Carl’s friend more than Paul’s, gaveher a quick smile. “Hey, Liddy, congrats! You’re all moved in, I hear.”
She thanked him for the lamp; he gaveanother easy smile that somehow went with his usual outfit: a blazer over anold polo shirt with jeans and scruffy cross trainers, which she saw as herushed from behind the counter to greet her. When was the last time she’d seenhim? May? No – she had a dim memory of him coming to the hospital. With his floppydark hair he looked younger than forty-two. There was something else about himshe was trying to remember…
“I brought sandwiches,” she told himawkwardly, putting them and the lamp package on the counter. Also awkward wasseeing Paul and Carl turned away from her, muttering tensely. “Just two,” shetold Ben, touching her bulging deli bag. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”
He waved a hand as if nothing. “Just heardPaul’s selling his boat. Came to say I’m in pain – I won’t be able to borrow itanymore.”
“Buy your own?” she suggested - and helaughed easily. “Funny you should mention it, the thought crossed my mind.” Heturned. “Just what I need, right Carl? More headaches, upkeep and expense?”
Carl gave a tense smile, went back to hisdiscussion with Paul. They seemed to be arguing about a white mouse in a smallcage with a blue stripe on its fur. The blue stripe meant it had survived itsfirst experiment. Other mice scratched around in cages stacked further down thecounter, some with red stripes, meaning they had survived more than one testand were up for more. Mice with purple stripes were sprawled in their cages stillalive but not for long. Their brains would wind up in cross sections on theresearchers’ office monitors.
Liddy hated what they did and suddenlyregretted having come. Neither Paul nor Carl had mentioned the sandwiches. Shefelt as if she were intruding.
But Ben saved the moment.
“Hey,” he said, chucking her arm. “Thatvideo you took of us doing the Long Island Regatta? You were going to send itto me.” Then he caught himself; looked contrite. “Oh sorry, your memory...”
Liddy assured him with her own apology. Shewas getting better and should have remembered. “Here, I’ll send it to you now.”
Out came their two cell phones, and shesent him the video. “Awesome, thanks,” he said; then turned again to Paul,Carl, and their mice.
“Hey, you geeks, want to take a break? Seesome sailing?”
Liddy grabbed the sandwiches, and minuteslater the four of them were in Paul and Carl’s shared office behind the counter:two desks, screens, monitors showing dissected rodent brains, stacks of papers,science journals, and more mouse cages. The room smelled of mice andantiseptic.
Paul thanked Liddy for the sandwiches,looked at his inside its foil, put it on his desk. Carl gave a brusque, “Yeah,thanks,” and bit into his as Ben Allen hooked his phone up to one of themonitors and turned the light down.
Next, male hoots and hollering as wavessplashed and wind blew and the three of them grinned and struggled with the riggingand bringing her about. “We’re gaining, do not lose this!” Carl Finn yelledin the video; and Ben, standing next to Liddy, said, “Guess you’re done withregattas, huh?”
“Definitely,” she said. “Second time I gotseasick and skinned knees. Just give me a rowboat on a smooth lake.”
Then she thought, funny how I rememberedthat day. It just…came. On the monitor the boat listed wildly, came dizzyingly closeto tipping, and for a moment she even felt seasick; put her hand on a counterto steady herself. It came back to her too that Ben had been thrilled at the nearcapsize. “Adrenalin, adrenalin!” he’d shouted. In a flash Liddy remembered himgetting splashed with freezing water and loving it. She wracked her brain forsomething else that nagged about him. No dice.
Carl and Paul were engrossed in the video.In the dimness Liddy felt suddenly alone in all this maleness…but there wassomething else. Some tension she felt between Paul and Carl, just watchingthem, their body language.
She tugged at the elbow of Paul’s whitecoat and said, “I should go.”
“Okay,” he said, unresponsive, lookingneither at her nor the video.
She left feeling troubled; hurt, actually. Almostforgot the lamp package she’d left on their counter, ran back for it, and heardCarl again.
“Do not lose this!”
23
Sketching helped banishhurt, so back in her studio she googled Charlie, found a photo of him she liked,and lost herself in his sad features. Minutes later his dark, mournful eyesstared out at her from her sketch. She stared at it for long moments; felt him therewith her, with the shelves and cozy-for-reading window seat he had created. He’dbeen a kindred spirit, she realized, and wished she had known him.
Paul was home by eight, but touchy and fretfulthat their deadline was looming. He barely noticed the bouillabaisse Liddy hadmade, but she soothed, reminded him of his favorite line from their poor days:“Without deadlines,
