The Mirror and the Mask (11 page)

Annie found a path that took them down to the river. As Dooley sniffed the brush, she stood on the bank, mesmerized by the roiling water. Shafts of sunlight pierced the dark clouds scudding overhead and struck the opposite bank. It was a gloriously beautiful winter day. Minnesota had its own kind of beauty, but nothing could measure up to the mountains. If she was lucky, she'd make it back to Steamboat Springs in one piece. She'd been itching to find Johnny for so many years, and yet now that she had, she saw her revenge and torture fantasies for what they were: impossible or just plain stupid. She needed a better plan.

Back inside, Annie sat down on the couch in the living room. “I must look like a mess,” she said to Dooley, who was rolling on his back, snorting and kicking. The fresh air had done them both good.

What Annie needed was a shower. She wasn't at all confident that Curt really intended for her to stay another night. Cracking open his bedroom door, she saw that he was still asleep. In fact, it looked as if he'd hardly moved.

“He's going to have one hell of a hangover, Dools,” she whispered.

The condo had two full bathrooms. With Dooley safely shut up in the den, she took a shower in the one farthest away from Curt's bedroom. It felt glorious to be clean again. Standing naked in front of the mirror, she touched the jagged razor scars on her thighs. It was a daily reminder of a time in her life when she'd been, quite literally, too stupid to live. She'd spent years hating herself when, instead, she should have been hating Johnny.

Back in the den, she dug through her duffel and found fresh clothes. Directly off the kitchen was a small laundry room. If Curt didn't immediately toss her out when he woke, she'd use it. Just about everything she'd brought with her was dirty.

Annie wasn't quite sure how to get her car back. The bar on Hennepin was too far away to make it on foot. Even if she tried, she'd probably get lost. Or Dooley would freeze to death.

She drifted around the condo for a while, looking at all of Curt's stuff. He seemed to be a curious mixture of sophistication and adolescence. With all the paintings and sculpture strewn about, he was obviously interested in art. He didn't appear to read much, except for his medical books. The kitchen cupboards were filled with dozens of different kinds of tea, a bag of fresh-ground coffee, some jars of exotic olives and olive spreads, but in general the food on hand wasn't far from what a teenager would eat. Lots of canned ravioli, boxed macaroni, and a stash of Oreos that would have done a five-year-old proud. But he looked like he survived mainly on take-out and pizza, beer and bourbon.

The condo wasn't large, but it must have cost a mint to rent—or
buy. The kitchen was long, kind of narrow, but had state-of-the-art appliances—Sub-Zero, Wolf. The furniture was modern and new—lots of leather, some Oriental rugs, a few modern paintings here and there—while the building was old. Some of the walls looked as if they might be the original limestone. The floors and cabinets were solid cherry, the counters in the kitchen and in the bathrooms a gorgeous golden granite. Annie couldn't help wondering why this rich guy, headed for a career in medicine, with everything going for him, seemed so down. Popular wisdom insisted money couldn't buy happiness, but Annie was more than willing to give rich misery a shot.

She picked up the remote and pointed it at the flat-screen TV on the wall but didn't turn it on. She didn't want to wake Curt because she felt there was a better than even chance that she'd get the boot. She liked it here. It was warm, comfortable, and safe. As far as she was concerned, Johnny could wait. He wasn't going anywhere. She had one credit card she hadn't completely maxed out and most of the money she'd made in the last couple of days working for Jane. She still had time. If her job was gone when she got back to Steamboat Springs, she'd find another.

For the next couple of hours, Annie sat on the living room couch reading
Too Late the Phalarope
. Just before noon, she heard stirrings in the bedroom. Feeling suddenly nervous about her appearance, she rushed back to the bathroom and ran a brush through her hair, which had, thankfully, dried. She also retouched her makeup.

She was standing in the kitchen holding Dooley and eating from a jar of peanut butter when Curt lumbered out of the bedroom. He stared at her, bleary-eyed. And then he said, “Annie. Right.”

“You remember me?”

“I wasn't that drunk.” He stumbled over to the refrigerator, opened the door, and stared at the contents. “Not much to eat.”

“Are you hungry?”

He felt his stomach. “Thirsty, mostly.” He poured himself a glass
of milk and gulped it down. “Better,” he said, leaning back against the counter. His jeans and football jersey looked as if he'd been living in them for days.

“I could make some coffee,” said Annie.

“Nah, I'll do it.” As he filled the coffeemaker with water, he said, “Sleep okay?”

“Great.”

“Glad something around here's great.”

She sat down at a glass-topped table. “I appreciate you letting me and Dooley stay here last night.”

“Like I said, as long as you want.”

“Really?”

He looked back over his shoulder. “Why not? You're not going to take advantage of me, are you?”

That drew a smile. “You're a nice guy, you know that?”

He gave a halfhearted grunt.

“Do you have classes today?”

“Nope.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

“Are you on break?”

“Sort of.” He turned around as the coffeepot began to gurgle. “I think I'm going to quit.”

“Seriously?”

“I'm always serious. That's one of my problems.” He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. “I'm failing.”

“You are?”

“Don't act so surprised. It's easy to fail. If you never make it to rounds, or piss off the attending or the nurses, or forget to turn in your write-ups, or generally do a piss-poor job of oral presentations, it's a certainty you're going to wipe out.”

She studied him, not sure what to say.

“That's a cute dog.”

Dooley wagged his tail as Curt lifted him from Annie's arms. “He likes me.” He let Dooley lick his face.

“Did you ever have a dog?”

“Yeah, before my dad died, when we were still living at the house on Fremont. When my mom, my sister, and I moved into an apartment, we had to give her up.”

“That must have been awful.”

“Yup.” He set Dooley on the table, stroked his back. “Very awful.”

“Why'd you have to move?”

“My dad was a slacker, just like me. We were in major debt because he'd stopped working without telling anyone. He hadn't paid bills in, like, forever.”

“Your mom didn't suspect anything was wrong?”

“She knew he was depressed. My sister and I did, too. But Mom had no idea he'd quit the practice. Or maybe he was thrown out. I never knew exactly what happened. And then, one fine April night, he killed himself. The police ruled it an accidental death. He'd been drinking and his car hit a tree. But he killed himself. We all knew it.” He said it all matter-of-factly.

“That's so sad. What was he depressed about?”

“My mom is a fucking bitch, that's what. She'd been having an affair with the next-door neighbor. She said it was because she and Dad weren't getting along. My dad, he wouldn't fight back, you know what I mean? I never understood it. She'd scream at him and he'd just walk away. She made his life miserable, always out buying shit, piling up the bills, keeping up the pressure on him to make more money. One day he just cracked. I don't think she ever once really listened to him.”

“You don't like her much.”

“She's an utter waste of space. I wouldn't care if she disappeared from the face of the earth. My father died because
she
drove him to it.”

“That's pretty harsh.”

“If you think I hate her, you should talk to my sister. She's still living at home.”

“How old is she?”

“Almost eighteen. She may not be happy there, but Mom sure is. She's living the good life again because she latched on to a new guy.”

“Did she marry him?”

“Of course.”

“He a nice guy?”

“He's paying for this condo, for my school, and he gives me a generous allowance. But he's got the dough. It's no skin off his nose. My sister thinks the sun rises and sets on him.”

“What's that mean?” She needed to be careful. She didn't want him to wonder why she was asking so many questions, but she had to find out as much as she could about Curt's sister. She was the one in the most danger.

“Sunny adores him. From the very first, they connected in a big way. For one thing, they both love the same stuff. Expensive cars. Fast motorcycles. Scary snowmobiles. I can't blame my sister for wanting to forge a relationship with a father figure. She doesn't remember our dad as well as I do. But he was the best. Jack isn't even in the same league.”

“Huh. Interesting. So what don't you like about this Jack?”

“Well, I mean, he's not the worst guy in the world, but he does stupid, risky things and then brags about it, like he thinks it's cool. Take snowmobiles. He likes to blast around the lakes too early in the winter. It's like he's playing Russian roulette with the ice.”

Annie felt a shiver of recognition.

“He sees himself as the kind of guy who helps people. A philanthropist. In some ways, that's what he is. But on a personal level, it can get pretty fucked up.”

“Like how?”

“Well, for instance, the summer between my junior and senior
years of high school, we were invited to dinner at this big home in Andover. The owners were business friends of Jack's. Before we got there, Jack told me that the husband was a coldhearted asshole who treated his wife like dirt. Jack said she was a ‘real looker,' and that she was starved for male attention. I wasn't sure why he was telling me about it, but he made a big point of it when Mom was out of the room. Sunny wasn't there that night. I don't remember where she was, maybe staying at a friend's place. Anyway, these people had a pool, so we all took a swim before dinner. Mom and Jack were drinking pretty heavily, and so were the Middletons. Blake and Connie Middleton. Boy, they were a pair. Somehow or other, Jack managed to get my mom and Blake out of the pool, leaving me and Connie alone. He winked at me before he left. Big, broad wink. God, he was so obvious. You can guess what happened next.”

“She came on to you?”

“Like a wild woman.”

“Did you fight her off?”

“Are you crazy? I was seventeen. But later, as I thought about it, I felt pretty disgusted.
Used
, you know? I wouldn't be surprised to learn Jack had been behind one of the the Japanese screens, watching. He's an animal. Perfect for my mom. He'll eat her up and spit her out before it's all over. Trust me on that one.”

Johnny hadn't changed a bit. “Why don't I pour us some coffee.”

“The mugs are in the cupboard right above the coffeemaker.”

“Milk? Sugar?”

“Two teaspoons of sugar. There's a sugar bowl on the counter. Silverware in the drawer next to the sink.” Turning to watch her, he said, “So what about you? I suppose you're from a Brady Bunch family.”

“Hardly. But I loved my mom and dad.”

“That's cool. Where are you from?”

“All over, but mostly Michigan.”

“Never been to Michigan. What's your dad do for a living?”

“He piloted a boat. Worked at a resort. Both my mom and dad worked resorts. My dad died when I was five.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. But I have good memories. When I was little, he used to read me stories every night before I went to bed. We had this big, brown, fuzzy mohair couch in the living room. He'd sit down and I'd climb into his lap. When we were done reading for the night, he'd lift me into his arms and carry me into the bedroom. Sometimes he'd sit with me until I fell asleep.”

“You're lucky.”

She set the coffee mugs on the table, resumed her chair.

“You still close to your mom?” he asked, pulling one of the mugs closer to him.

“Sure.”

“Maybe I need to move far away from home like you did. Give myself a fresh start. Do you recommend it?”

She shrugged. “Depends.”

He held her eyes for a few seconds, then looked out the window. “Whatever. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Don't have any.”

“We should go get your car. You'll need your wheels.”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks.”

“We could find a place to have lunch.”

“On the topic of food, I've got a great roast beef sandwich in my car. It was cold last night, so it should still be good. I'd be happy to share it with you.”

He cocked his head, scrutinized her face. “I get it. You're broke.”

“Pretty much.”

“Not a problem. I'm loaded. Let me take a quick shower and change into some clean clothes. I've got an appointment with my adviser over at the U this afternoon. But until then, I'm free.”

Before he got up, Annie reached across the table and covered his
hand with hers. “I like you, Curt. Not because you're buying me lunch and letting me stay here for a few days, but because you're nice. And honest.”

“You like honest?” He stood. As he walked away, he added, “Don't be surprised if you change your mind. Honesty is way overrated.”