Things You Won't Say (9 page)

“Sir? Can I help you?” Jamie heard someone ask loudly.

Jamie became aware of a rhythmic, thudding sound coming from the hallway. She felt a cold tingle work its way down her spine as she stood up and walked to the door and looked down the hall, toward the noise. Mike was still standing there, waiting for the elevator. His head was down, and his hands were clenched by his sides. He was ignoring the nurse frowning at him.

As she watched, Mike’s foot drew back, then kicked the closed doors of the elevator again.

•••

“So,” Lou said, looking at Donny.

“So,” he repeated, looking back at her.

They were seated on the couch, a healthy distance separating them, like sitcom actors depicting a strained relationship.

“Did you want anything to eat or drink?” Donny asked, as if she was a guest. It made her think her instincts about the contents of this conversation were right. He was going to ask her to move out.

“No thanks,” Lou said. “I’m good.”

This was one of the problems in their relationship: they both hated conflict. So they never discussed problems. Lou hadn’t even known that Donny was unhappy with their relationship until he suggested a break. She hadn’t even known that
she
was unhappy until she felt relief at his suggestion.

Lou wondered if he’d ever really loved her, or if she’d loved him. Donny didn’t even like animals! Whenever he came with her to Jamie’s, he’d pet Sadie once or twice, then discreetly sniff his hands and hurry away to wash them.

“Mary Alice and I . . .” Donny cleared his throat.

“It’s okay,” Lou said. She might as well make this easier on both of them; Jamie probably wouldn’t mind her being blunt in this case. “Is she moving in? Do you want me to move out?”

“We’re getting married,” Donny said.

“Oh!” Lou said. Now, that she wasn’t expecting. What did you say to your ex-boyfriend and current roommate upon learning that he was engaged? Luckily she settled on the right word: “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Donny said.

Back when they’d first met, after Lou had handed him a latte and he’d asked for her number, she’d been flattered. Guys weren’t exactly lining up to sleep with her. She’d been with only two in her entire life. And Donny looked a little bit like the late actor Robin Williams, whom Lou had always liked. Now Lou waited for whatever feelings might come—regret, loss, relief—and realized she didn’t feel much of anything.

“There’s this woman who works in my office, Kelsey,” Donny was saying. “She’s looking for a roommate.”

“Have I met her?” Lou asked. Donny was an actuary, someone who specialized in analyzing the financial risks of busi
ness decisions. She sometimes wondered if he did the same with emotional decisions.

“I don’t think so,” Donny said. “She’s new.”

“Okay,” Lou said. “I’ll call her.”

Donny looked relieved. He stood up and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “You can probably see the room tonight, if you want,” he said.

“In a hurry to get rid of me, huh?” Lou joked.

“No, no,” Donny protested, a bit too fervently.

Lou swallowed hard. “I’ll move out as soon as I can.”

“So what are you thinking?” Donny asked. “A couple weeks?”

She blinked. “Um, yeah,” she said. “A couple weeks probably.”

Donny sighed, and his whole body seemed to deflate. He was a good man, Lou thought. But she already knew she wouldn’t miss him. When she spent the weekend with Donny, she missed the elephants.

“You could call her now,” Donny said.

“Who?”

“Kelsey. The woman with the apartment.”

“Oh, right,” Lou said.

Donny was looking at her expectantly, so Lou reached for the phone and dialed the number. It rang twice, then someone answered.

“Hi. I’m trying to reach Kelsey. This is Lou. I’m a . . . a friend of Donny’s?”

“Oh, yes. Did you want to see the apartment tonight?”

“Um, sure,” Lou said. Had Donny told Kelsey how desperate he was for Lou to move out? She felt a little hurt by the thought.

“You can come now.”

“Now?” Lou said. She looked at Donny. “Okay.”

She scribbled down the address, then hung up.

“So I’m going to check out the apartment,” she said, unnecessarily. She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand.
She recognized the name of the street and could visualize the route. “It’s just a mile or so away.”

“Great!” Donny said.

She stood up and put on her clogs, then headed out the door. What she’d like, ideally, would be a sunny little studio close to the zoo. She’d have a teakettle and toaster and microwave, and the apartment would allow pets (Donny’s didn’t). She’d get two cats, so they’d keep each other company while she was out. But D.C. real estate was exorbitant, and zookeepers didn’t make much money. A place of her own would have to remain a distant dream.

She strolled through the streets, passing a bakery and Thai and Ethiopian restaurants, enjoying the sounds and smells. She bought a veggie burrito and a bottle of water from a food truck and ate while she walked. A few minutes later, she reached Kelsey’s building and stood looking up at it. The building was old but seemed well maintained, with wide, gray stone steps curving to the main door. She climbed them and buzzed the number for the apartment.

A voice came over the intercom: “Who is it?”

“It’s me. Lou,” she said.

There was a pause. “I’m here to see about the room?” Lou added.

A buzzer sounded and she pulled the door open and took the stairs up to the third floor. She knocked and waited for what seemed like an abnormally long time before the apartment’s door was opened by a short, wiry woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. The woman’s waist-length black hair was so straight that Lou wondered if she ironed it, like Jamie had once tried to do back in junior high school. The smell of singed hair had stunk up the house for days.

“Hi,” Lou said.

“Sorry, I was just straightening up,” Kelsey said.

“Well, I hope you didn’t do that on my account,” Lou said. “A little mess doesn’t bother me.”

“It doesn’t?” Kelsey frowned, then opened the door wider, the expression on her face indicating it might be against her better judgment. “Come in.”

Lou stepped into the narrow hallway. It was empty except for a wooden table with skinny legs that looked like an antique.

Kelsey was staring at her oddly. “Can you take off your shoes?” she asked. “I’d rather you didn’t track dirt and germs in here.”

“Oh, sure,” Lou said. She slipped out of them and followed Kelsey into the living area. Immediately she wondered what Kelsey could’ve been cleaning; the place was spotless. There was a gray couch with angles so sharp it looked as if it might cut the behind of anyone who sat on it, and a glass coffee table, and a little cube that could’ve been a chair but also could’ve been a footrest. Exactly two magazines were placed on the coffee table, so crisp and glossy they appeared untouched.

“Living room,” Kelsey said unnecessarily. She gave a little wave of her hand. “Kitchen.”

Lou peered into the galley kitchen. A lone gerbera daisy stood in a slender glass vase on one of the shining granite counters, and the fruit bowl held one orange and one red apple.

“Your room would be here,” Kelsey said, walking down a short hallway and pointing into a doorway. She seemed to be checking Lou out in quick, sidelong glances. Lou wondered if her burrito breath was soiling the sanctity of the apartment. “I’m using it as a guest room now, but I don’t have a lot of guests.”

Lou followed Kelsey to the small, rectangular space. A four-poster bed dominated the room, and there was a matching bureau opposite. Lou opened a door and found a tiny bathroom, then she looked into the closet. It was probably a good thing she didn’t have a lot of clothes.

“It’s nice,” she said.

“It’s seven hundred a month plus utilities,” Kelsey said. She handed Lou a piece of paper. “Here are some ground rules.”

Lou began to read the typewritten words:
Rent will be paid on the first of the month. Quiet time will commence at 10:30
P.M.
and continue until 5:45
A.M.
All guests must be approved in advance. No sleepovers will be permitted. Food in the refrigerator should be clearly labeled and renter will only eat and drink his/her groceries. No dishes will be left in the sink; they must be immediately washed and put away in the appropriate space in the cupboard . . .

Lou looked up. “Sleepovers?”

“Guests of the opposite sex,” Kelsey said, then quickly clarified, “or the same sex. I don’t have a problem with that. Actually, I do—not the same-sex part. The sleepover part.”

She leaned closer and peered at Lou. “You’ve got a . . .” She made a brushing gesture against her own cheek.

Lou reached up and felt something slimy. “Guacamole,” she said, wiping her fingers off on her cargo pants. Kelsey looked ready to gag. She reached over and plucked a tissue from a box atop the dresser and let it flutter into Lou’s outstretched hand.

Lou could envision what her life would look like if she lived here. She’d have to tiptoe in after late shifts at the coffee shop, and wash her clothes before Kelsey caught the scent of the zoo. If she took an unauthorized swig of orange juice, she’d probably be Tasered.

But what other choice did she have? The apartment was reasonably priced—at least by D.C. standards—convenient, and available. She thought of heading back home and seeing Donny’s eager face as he asked how it went.

“Okay,” she said, handing back the list of rules. “When can I move in?”

“The first of next month. I’ll need a security deposit, too,” Kelsey said. “And I want to give your room a deep cleaning first.”

Lou said good-bye and trudged toward home, feeling her shoulders slump. She’d just avoid Kelsey as much as possible, and start looking for a new place after a few months. This would be temporary, she consoled herself.

On impulse, she turned down a side street. It was almost dusk now, but if she hurried, she’d arrive before closing. As she got closer to the zoo, she found herself running, her stress peeling away and being replaced by a sense of exuberance.

“Weren’t you here all day?” one of the volunteers asked as he drove by in one of the golf carts used by employees. Lou just gave him a wave and ran faster.

She reached the elephant enclosure area in time to see Tabitha enjoying her dinner. As if the elephant sensed her presence, Tabitha looked up and caught her eye. Lou waved to her but didn’t call her over. She didn’t want to interrupt Tabby’s meal. She was eating for two, after all.

The sinking sun suffused the sky with rose and violet streaks. Martha and Bailey ambled through the yard, their slow, steady gaits echoing Lou’s heartbeats. When Lou looked at the creatures, she experienced the same overpowering sense of peace and awe that some people reported feeling when they viewed the ocean for the first time, or the Grand Canyon. Lou wasn’t religious, but being around the elephants elevated her to a near-spiritual experience. The presence of their dignity and wisdom felt healing.

Tabitha wasn’t finished eating, but she abandoned her dinner and walked closer to Lou. Lou felt tears form in her eyes.

“Good girl,” she said softly, but loud enough for the elephant to hear. Tabby understood more than two dozen words, and these were the ones Lou made sure she heard the most.

She supposed she should get home and begin packing. But she didn’t want to leave. She’d like nothing more than to curl up on a bale of hay and sleep here, out under the night stars, cocooned by familiar smells and sounds.

The thought of moving in with scary, bossy Kelsey was so daunting. She knew she’d do something wrong—be too loud or track in dung or walk around with more guacamole on her cheek. She imagined her new roommate’s face tightening every time she walked into the apartment, just as Donny’s did now.

“Hey there,” another keeper said as he passed by. “Did you hear about Tabby’s tail?”

Lou shook her head. “What?” she asked urgently.

“She broke off a few hairs when they got tangled in something. I think it just happened an hour or so ago.”

Lou straightened up, trying to get a better look at Tabby’s hind side. It wasn’t as innocuous as it sounded; the tuft at the end of an elephant’s tail, used to swat away insects, was composed of individual hairs that were as strong and wiry as guitar strings. If one broke off at the quick, it could lead to an abscess or infection.

“Did someone get antiseptic on it?” Lou asked.

“Yeah,” the keeper said. “It’s in her chart.”

Lou was glad the charts were scrupulously kept, but she knew she’d never need a reminder to check on an animal’s injury. In fact, she wanted to take a look now, to make sure the tail wasn’t too bad. She’d hang out at the zoo for a few hours and keep an eye on Tabby, just to be sure.

Lou didn’t know much about Tabby’s history—no one did, since she’d come to the zoo via an overcrowded sanctuary—but she sensed the elephant had been treated poorly at one time in her life. Maybe that was why Tabby seemed so grateful for the gentle care Lou provided now.

“Good girl,” Lou told her favorite elephant again. In a few months, Tabby would give birth, and Lou knew the experience could be traumatic. She’d be here for every moment of it. She’d protect the elephant and her baby as best she could, for the rest of their lives.

It was the least she could do for the beautiful creature that had given her so much.

•••

Christie assessed herself in the mirror, then dabbed on a little more lipstick and adjusted her new black wig. She slipped into her short trench coat and belted it tightly around her waist. Maybe the coat wasn’t a necessary expense, but she was planning to ask Elroy to divide the cost among several clients. After all, she was a bona fide private detective now. She might not have a license, but she was at the center of real investigations, a vital player in uncovering deceit. She needed to look the part.

Elroy had shown her the photo of the man he’d called her first client, but Elroy had been wrong.