After Life (15 page)

happy. Maybe we should be happy, too, and just leave well enough alone,

she said.

Don't you like her wine, though?

What? Oh yes, it's nice. Maybe a bit sweet. I can't drink a lot of

it. It's heavy and I think it's already going to my head.

That's all right. Don't worry. She won't remember how much you've

drunk. If she keeps insisting, I'll tell her we had another glass while

she was gone.

Is this house really filled with so many expensive things? Jessie

inquired.

Absolutely not, Tracy said. It's one of her fantasies. The vase we

were talking about is brass.

Jessie shook her head.

How sad, she said.

Here we are, Marjorie suddenly announced. Jessie nearly jumped in her

seat. She hadn't heard her returning footsteps. Had the woman tiptoed

back?

Marjorie placed a tray on the table and then brought a cake to Jessie.

Thank you, Jessie said.

Now, if you don't like it, you don't have to eat it, Marjorie said.

Jessie bit into the soft dough. At first it was absolutely without

taste, almost like chewing flavorless gum, but then there was a surge of

flavor, a strange taste that flowed over her tongue and filled her

mouth. The closest thing she could think of was clove.

Interesting, Jessie admitted, nodding.

What a nice way to say you don't like it, Marjorie said, and she and

Tracy laughed.

It's not that I don't like it exactly. It's so different fn anything

I've eaten that I'm a bit surprised, Jessie explained. She didn't want

to add that she couldn't eat much of it, just as she couldn't drink much

of this wine.

What's in it?

oh no. I never give away my recipes. Which is much nicer than what an

aunt of mine used to do. She would give away her recipes, but she would

always leave out an ingredient, or change a proportion so that whoever

made the food would never get it as good as she could.

No, I wouldn't make it, Jessie said, surprised herself at how frank she

was. Was it because of the effect this wine was having on her? Her

tongue seemed free of inhibitions suddenly.

Marjorie laughed.

That's being honest. Don't worry, dear. You don't have to eat any more

of it, she said. Now Tracy here is just gorging herself.

Jessie couldn't help smirking skeptically. How could she be?

Um, Tracy said, her mouth full, I just love this.

What do you call it, Marge?

It's my own special devil dog, Marge said, and laughed again. Was it

the wine? Jessie wondered once more. This time Marjorie's laugh became

thick, heavy, deep, like the laugh of a man. I do hope you really like

my wine, though, she said to Jessie. Otherwise I'm a total disaster,

she moaned, sounding on the verge of tears.

Oh no, it's good. Really, Jessie said, and demonstrated by taking

another long sip. Then she put the glass of wine down and sat back So

how has Lee been since his first game? Marjorie asked. Henry told me

what happened.

He's very upset, Jessie said. He's going to speak to Henry about it

today. Oh?

What's wrong with me? Jessie wondered. I didn't want to tell them

that, especially not Marjorie.

And what is he going to say to Henry? Marjorie pursued.

Jessie felt herself struggling to think of something other than the

truth. Her mind did somersaults. Words came and went.

He wants . . . She felt a little warm and, suddenly, a bit dizzy. It

was as if the sofa were beginning to spin.

She clutched her thighs.

Yes? He wants? Marjorie coaxed. What does Lee want? she asked,

sounding a bit impatient.

To tell him how unhappy he was with the way Henry spoke to the boys

afterward in the locker room, Jessie said. The words just flowed out.

She tried biting down on her tongue afterward, but her mouth snapped

open again. He thinks Henry should have reprimanded them instead of

complimenting them.

Oh? What else does he want to say to Henry?

Marjorie demanded.

He wants to give notice.

Give notice? You mean, Lee wants to quit Gardner Town High School?

Tracy asked quickly.

Jessie swallowed and nodded. She couldn't help it; she couldn't hide

the truth.

Yes, she said, and then, for no reason she could imagine, she began to

cry.

She bawled like a baby, sobbing about bad things that had happened to

her in her past, going back as far as the time Sarah Feinberg took her

rag doll and ran off. On and on she went, recounting her life until she

reached the accident. And all the while Tracy and Marjorie sat

listening, occasionally comforting her, consoling her as if she were

only five years old.

Finally, exhausted, she lay back. Marjorie got up quickly and came to

her side to embrace her and stroke her hair softly.

There, there, she said, everything will be all right now. You're safe

now.

Her words were soothing, soft, like a lullaby. Jessie felt herself

drifting, sinking, falling through a fleshlike dark tunnel with walls

that oozed a cool, slimy substance, which made it impossible for her to

slow or stop her descent. She fell into a pool of icy darkness,

shattering it so that it exploded around her like bolts of lightning,

and then all grew quiet and darker.

Suddenly there was a tiny pinpoint of light above her and she began to

ascend, rising out of the pool and shooting toward the surface to gasp

air. Her heart pounded and a rush of blood filled her face with heat.

She felt like she was stifling. A surge of panic flowed through her

body as she groped at the air in front of her.

And then, as suddenly as it had come over her, it all began to ease off.

She began to breathe more regularly.

She had been submerged, come up from under whatever cloud had fallen

over her. Marjorie had returned to her seat. Jessie realized she was

lying back on the sofa and sat up quickly. She had no idea how long she

had been lying there like that.

What? she cried as if someone had said something.

Is something wrong, dear? Marjorie asked.

Yes, I . . . what were we talking about? she asked.

Thoughts were so jumbled.

The PTO dinner dance, Marjorie replied. She continued in a nonchalant

tone, as if nothing had happened.

As I said, it will be a pot luck supper and so each of us is making

something. What do you want to make, Jessie?

You said you would make something. I did?

Yes, Marjorie said, still laughing. Don't you call me absentminded,

Tracy. We have a new champ.

I'm sorry, I . . . I don't know what's wrong with me.

Maybe the wine. I . . .

We're talking about the PlO dinner, Marjorie repeated.

What do you want to contribute? Oh. I what about potato salad'

Excellent, Marjorie said. Tracy? That's great, Tracy said. It's

always a nice affair, Jessie. You will enjoy it and it will give you

the chance to meet a great many more residents of the community.

People who really care, Marjorie emphasized. People you would want to

meet.

Exactly, Tracy said. They heard the doorbell.

Oh, another visitor, Marjorie cried. Please excuse me.

I feel so strange, Jessie said as soon as Marjorie had left the room.

Like I lost consciousness or something.

It must have been the wine, Tracy said. You were right about not being

able to drink too much of it.

What happened to me.?

You started babbling and crying.

I did? Oh, I'm so ashamed.

It's all right. The way Marjorie is, nothing surprises or upsets her.

We calmed you down, you stopped, and we started talking about the

upcoming PTO affair. I knew you were drifting in and out of the

conversation a bit.

That's an understatement, Jessie said, rubbing her cheeks. She turned

toward the doorway when she heard Marjorie's laughter.

Look who's here, Marjorie exclaimed as she returned to the room. Our

own good Dr. Beezly.

Well, I didn't mean to interrupt anything or intrude, Dr. Beezly said.

I just stopped by to see how Marjorie was doing.

Oh, Dr. Beezly, Tracy said, you could never be accused of intruding.

Thank you. Hello, Jessie. How are you?

I'm all right, Jessie said quickly.

Um, you look a bit flushed.

I think I drank a little too much wine, Jessie confessed.

Oh, Dr. Beezly said. Marjorie's famous elderberry wine, eh? Yes, I've

been known to imbibe a bit too much myself. It's addictive.

I've discovered, Jessie said. Dr. Beezly laughed.

Well, it's very nice of you two to stop by. I'll just borrow my patient

for a few minutes if you don't mind.

It's all right, Doctor, Tracy said. Actually we have to be going.

Yes, Jessie said firmly. She was so anxious to leave, she stood up

abruptly, but the quick move, on top of how she felt, caused her to

become dizzy and lose her balance.

Dr. Beezly was at her side first, practically flying through the room.

He seized her around the waist.

Are you all right, my dear?

Yes, I just had a little dizzy spell. I don't know....

I guess you did have a little too much wine. Marjorie, you should be

ashamed of yourself, Dr. Beezly chided.

Oh I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-No I'm all right now, Jessie said.

Please, don't make a big thing of it.

Just sit down for a moment more, Dr. Beezly advised, and firmly guided

her back to the sofa. He continued to hold her hand. She felt the heat

from it travel up her arm and over her shoulders, a warm pulsating glow

that soothed and relaxed her muscles. But then suddenly his touch

changed: his fingers felt rough and scaly and he seemed to have long,

sharp fingernails. Jessie grimaced and he quickly released her.

Instantly the heat retreated down her shoulders and her arm, leaving her

chilled for a moment. She shuddered and took a deep breath.

All right? he asked.

Yes. Thank you, she said quickly. She didn't want him to touch her.

I'll try again. We really have to be going, she said.

Oh, really, I don't mean to break anything up. Please, stay, Dr. Beezly

implored.

No, we do have errands, Tracy said. Jessie was grateful when Tracy came

to her side and helped her to stand. All right? Tracy asked.

Yes, I'm fine. Well, okay then, Dr. Beezly said. Jessie knew he was

still standing very closely to her. She could feel his hot breath

caress her face. Now, Jessie, I don't want you to think I've forgotten

about you. Can I come by your place tomorrow afternoon, say about two

o'clock.

Oh, I don't know. I won't be there long. I promise. I never overstay

my welcome. That's very nice of Dr. Beezly, Marjorie said. You should

take advantage of his generosity, she added in what sounded like a

threatening tone.

Of course I wouldn't do anything or recommend any treatment without

first consulting with the physicians who originally treated you, Dr.

Beezly added.

You don't have to be afraid of Dr. Beezly, Marjorie said, leaning in to

whisper in her ear.

She's not afraid of me, are you.? Dr. Beezly asked.

Of course not. Jessie paused, but sensed that they were all waiting for

her to respond. Fine, she finally said. Two o'clock will be fine.

Great. I'll put it in my appointment book immediately, the doctor said.

Now, as for this wine thing, take a couple of aspirins right away and

lie down; otherwise you will wake up with a real hangover, I'm afraid.

Okay, Jessie said. I will. Thank you. She turned toward Tracy, who

began to guide her out.

Well, we'll be going then, Tracy said. Marjorie, you call if you need

anything, anything at all.

Thank you, dear. And thank you, Jessie, for stopping by. I'm sorry

about the wine.

I'll be all right. Really. I feel so silly. Suddenly she giggled. She

couldn't help it.

Don't forget now, you're down for potato salad, Marjorie called as they

started toward the front door.

And don't forget the two aspirins, Dr. Beezly added.