Grey zone, p.26
Grey Zone, page 26
Dulcie laid out her evidence. ‘It’s all there in the text,’ she said. She could leave the dreams out. ‘The author of The Ravages of Umbria did stop publishing in London.’ She smiled up at her adviser now. This close to it, her breakthrough gave her some pleasure. ‘But she didn’t stop writing. Look at the history: a period of peace between wars. The reactionary temperament of the times. If you put her writing in context, it all becomes clear.’
She paused, unable to resist a bit of showmanship. ‘The author of The Ravages of Umbria didn’t disappear. She emigrated, though whether because of political pressure or some other reason, we may never know.’ She smiled a bit as she said that. Her dreams, she was sure, would make it all clear in time. ‘And then, two years later, we find her publishing in the New World. In Philadelphia, as a matter of fact.’
‘Isn’t your mom from Philly?’ Trista got straight to the point that night at the People’s Republik. ‘Maybe you’re related.’
‘That would be cool,’ added Jerry, nodding and grinning. Dulcie smiled at them both, but didn’t respond. Trista’s observation had touched on a hunch she had, but Dulcie would need a few more dreams and a lot more legwork before she was willing to comment. Besides, Jerry’s approval was pretty much rote. Since those two had ironed out their differences, Jerry agreed with everything his petite blonde girlfriend said.
‘Chris coming?’ Trista and Dulcie hadn’t talked much, but clearly Dulcie’s friend assumed that they had reached a similar agreement. After all, everyone knew that Dulcie and Chris were living together.
‘Working.’ Dulcie shrugged. Her fears of the rival redhead had disappeared. In fact, the recent events had made her swear off jealousy forever. That didn’t mean everything was perfect. However, her thesis was progressing, and she was out with friends. And before she had to explain any further, she heard a chorus of greetings. Dimitri had arrived, with a short, plump brunette.
‘My friends.’ Courtly as ever, Dimitri pulled out a chair for his companion. ‘May I introduce Lylah?’
The next afternoon Dulcie came home to find Chris awake and going through the want ads again. This was the time to look. If they could save some money, maybe they could go on a real vacation that summer.
‘Would you want to head west and see Lucy again?’ He put the paper down, and Dulcie saw that several listings had been circled. ‘Or maybe go someplace fun, like Cape Cod?’
‘The Cape could be fun.’ Dulcie tried to put more heart in her voice than she felt. ‘We could take the ferry. Lucy did say she had a vision of me going on a sea voyage. Something about “leaping waves.”’
Chris smiled, but refrained from comment, and Dulcie found herself smiling back. Maybe it was time for her to dive in. Suze was moving on. Her friend sounded less and less inclined to keep after their former landlord. Truth was, she had all but moved in with Ariano months before. That left Dulcie with Chris. She was committed. And it was right, wasn’t it? She looked at Chris, once again bent over the paper. She had loved Mr Grey and he had loved her, but he was gone. She should choose her living boyfriend over her late cat. It was time.
‘Time for what? Where are we going?’ As if on cue, Esmé appeared, bounding over Chris’s paper. But her attempt to skid to a halt only resulted in a somersault that landed her on the floor before a laughing Dulcie.
‘You don’t do anything by halves, do you?’ Dulcie asked as the small cat threw a paw over Dulcie’s foot and bit her ankle. Hard.
‘And neither should you!’ With a look, Esmé scampered off a few feet and turned to watch them both.
‘Ow! Bad cat!’ Dulcie rubbed her ankle while she mulled over her pet’s message. ‘That cat, Chris. I don’t know.’
‘Oh, come on.’ Chris reached over to scoop up the black and white beast. ‘She’s still just a kitten. She was playing.’
‘Some play.’ The bite hadn’t broken the skin, but Dulcie wasn’t ready to give in yet. Esmé, now upside down in Chris’s arms, stared at her.
‘You’re just upset because she doesn’t act like Mr Grey.’ Dulcie didn’t respond. He was right. ‘And I think you’re being unfair.’
In his arms, the young cat lay sprawled on her back, front paws stretched out to expose her white, fluffy belly. All cat, fearless.
‘Esmé is a perfectly fine cat. A young cat, and a little rambunctious. But that’s OK. Look.’ He bounced the cat into a more comfortable position. ‘I know Mr Grey was special to you, Dulcie. I know he always will be. But isn’t it cool to have a normal pet in the house? Our own pet?’
‘A cat of our own?’ There was a promise in that.
‘Yeah.’ With his free hand, Chris began to rub under Esmé’s chin. ‘A cat of our own. I mean, look how happy she is.’
‘Yeah,’ Dulcie said, unable hide the note of sadness in her voice. Sadness and, she admitted, fear. It was time to choose. Time for – she suddenly realized what Lucy had misheard – a leap of faith. Taking a deep breath, she acknowledged the truth. ‘She looks totally at home here.’
‘We all are, Dulcie.’ The voice, deep and low, was unmistakable.
‘Mr Grey?’ She couldn’t help it. The words had escaped before she could stop them. Here, in Chris’s dingy apartment? But her boyfriend had looked up, too, his hands momentarily stilled on Esmé’s downy fur, his mouth open in astonishment.
‘Dear kittens. And you are all my kittens,’ the voice chided softly, as soft as the brush of fur she felt against her hand. ‘Don’t you understand? Home is not a place. Home is where love lives.’
She looked over at her boyfriend then, and he at her, an amazed smile spreading across his face. Only Esmé seemed unmoved, stretched out still in his arms. And after a moment, Chris nodded and began to rub under her chin again. Dulcie watched them both, the man and the cat. Both were dear to her, both deserved her full commitment. The man was focused on the cat now, his dark head bent over the supine feline as he stroked the soft white fur. Esmé’s long whiskers spread in contentment, and she leaned back a shade further. Her green eyes – they were green now, with just a hint of yellow – were almost closed, her muscular little body finally lulled into inaction by Chris’s gentle hands.
But the little cat had just a smidgen of energy left and squirmed slightly as Chris held her, turning once more to face Dulcie. And as she did so, Dulcie was sure, she winked.
Clea Simon, Grey Zone
