Chapters (29)
Jane heard a car pull up in front and looked out the window in time to see Rosemary Boyle emerge from the back seat of a taxi. She was wearing a loose black sheath of a dress with narrow shoulder straps, and when she stood up, it fell into place with remarkable precision. Jane hadn’t much thought about what she was going to wear, certainly not this rumpled pullover she’d worn to Dr. Berman. (The last thing she wanted was to give Berman the idea she paid special attention to what she wore to see him, which meant she usually spent a good half hour trying to pick out something appropriately nondescript.) She went to the closet, rifled through the uninspiring collection of dresses, shirts, and jackets, and emerged holding the blouse she’d just hung up. It would have to do. Good color, went with everything, and, even if she hated to admit it to herself, there was something exciting about wearing an article of clothing that knew so many secrets.
When she turned around, Thomas was standing in the bedroom, T-shirt in his hand, sweat dripping off his pale body. His face was the most peculiar shade of purple-gray she’d ever seen, like a piece of chicken that had been boiled in grape juice, and for one moment, she was so touched by the sight of him, she nearly ruined her outfit by rushing over and embracing him.
“Look at you,” she said. “Where have you been?”
“Two blocks up Beacon, two blocks around, and back. Which is twice as much as I was doing last week.”
“But in this weather, Thomas?” She heard something in her voice she hated, a condescending mothering tone which, ironically, she wouldn’t dare use with Gerald. “What possessed you?”
He looked down at himself and slapped at his stomach, sending out a spray of sweat. “I’m afraid I might be getting a little out of shape.”
He said it with such hushed sincerity, she laughed, and, trying to reassure him, said, “You look the same as always, Thomas. This is your shape.” She went to him and kissed his sweaty shoulder. “If you keep this up, I might have to join you.” He wouldn’t keep it up, she was certain of that, but for a moment, the idea of the two of them jogging together through the neighborhood made her feel calm and reassured. The doorbell rang. “It’s Rosemary,” she said. “I’d better go down before she rings again and breaks Gerald’s concentration.”