I have been needed, I thought, and I miss that feeling.
“I’ll think about it,” I replied, more confused than ever, wishing I dared ask if he saw me as more than just a potential coworker, wishing I were surer of my own feelings toward him. We had reached the front stoop of our apartment building. From the top step, River beamed down at me with that same warm smile I’d seen a few nights ago, as though I’d already told him yes. Then he fished the keys out of his pocket and struggled with the dead bolt. “Take all the time you need,” he said, and swung the front door open.
From that night on, River seemed to watch my every gesture, as though he was seeking a window to my thoughts. Whenever we found ourselves in the same room, I could feel the unresolved questions between us crackle like static electricity. Before sleep each night, I read on in the book he had given me, imagining myself into the story of heroic relief workers struggling to build schools and hospitals, to give hope to the poorest of the poor. River’s enthusiastic visions were proving contagious. Who wouldn’t want to be needed by so many people? And who wouldn’t be proud to stand beside someone so passionate about his work? In those rare moments when River wasn’t watching me, as he studied his textbooks or read through the day’s mail, I allowed myself to sneak long looks at him — his finely chiseled features, his lean build, his rumpled blond hair. Who wouldn’t want to be wanted by someone like River?
The more I thought about his invitation, the fewer reasons I could think of for turning it down. Though pleasant enough, my mostly clerical job didn’t satisfy my whole self; it wasn’t something I could imagine doing forever, or even much longer. I loved living with Diana and Maria, but that didn’t seem enough of a reason to turn down the chance to do more vital, necessary work. Here was an opportunity to travel, to have adventures. If something in my bones froze at the idea of voyaging so far away and staying indefinitely, I had to admit to myself that it was my stubborn, foolish attachment to Nico. Foolish because he hadn’t come looking for me, or if he had, he hadn’t looked hard enough. Doubly foolish because I had done everything I could to ensure he wouldn’t find me. Hadn’t I been right in doing so? Was I going to wait around forever for Nico to show that he still cared about me? That would be a slow death. Why not settle the question by disappearing to a place he’d never think to look?
One Sunday morning, while River and Maria were at church, Diana and I took a hike in a nature preserve a short drive from the house. It was a heart-piercingly beautiful day; a week of almost constant rain had made the landscape lush and verdant. Since spring had arrived, she and I took every opportunity to go for walks; she claimed she had five pounds of winter weight to walk off, though I couldn’t see it. Ordinarily our talk was light and rambling. Today, though, was different. For most of the walk, she said little. My overtures at conversation led nowhere. Then, just as I’d given up, she stopped like a balky horse. “Aren’t you going to tell me what’s going on between you and River?” she asked.
So she had noticed. “Going on?”
“The two of you have been acting so strange these past few weeks. He’s always staring at you like he’s waiting for you to sprout wings and fly away, or something. And you seem so jumpy around him. Did he do something to hurt your feelings?”
“No, no, nothing like that, Diana.”
She exhaled loudly. “Well, thank God.” Then she looked at me more closely. “Is it something else, then? Do you two have some kind of secret? Maria has this theory that — well, I’ve been telling her she’s crazy, but maybe she isn’t after all.”
“What kind of theory?” I trained my gaze off into the distance.
“That he’s got some kind of crush on you. That he’s thinking about putting the moves on you.”
I forced a laugh. “Putting the moves on me?” If Diana thought the idea was crazy, maybe it really was.
“I know! Imagine River putting the moves on anyone! So that’s not it? I mean, I didn’t think it was, but Maria had me convinced you’d practically be our sister-in-law soon, and both of us kind of liked the idea.”
“We’re sisters already,” I told her. “No need for the in-law part.”
“But then what is going on between the two of you? Because I know it’s something.”
River hadn’t sworn me to secrecy, though I suspected he wouldn’t want me saying too much to his sisters about his invitation. Still, the idea of confiding in Diana, getting her opinion, was too attractive to resist. “Promise you won’t tell him I told you.”
“Hurry up and spill it already; the suspense is murder.”
So I told her about River’s plans for me, and how he was waiting for my answer. Diana’s eyes got bigger and bigger.
“Get out,” she said. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?”
I admitted that I was.
“Jane! No! We can’t lose both River and you at the same time. Maria and I will fall apart all by ourselves. Plus, what about your plans to go back to school?”
I thought about confessing my recent confusion about River’s motives; if there was anyone I could confide in it was Diana. But something kept me silent on that front. “It’s not easy to say no to River.”
“Oh, believe me, you don’t have to tell me that. River’s vision of saving the world is so grand and romantic. I can see the appeal. But you don’t really want to go with him, do you? He’s probably convinced you that it’s your duty to mankind and all that, but in your heart you don’t really want to…”
“I’m not sure. My life doesn’t have a whole lot of meaning right now.”
“Meaning?” she said. “You’ve got Maria and me. You’ve got a good job doing important work. You’ve got plans. I know you’ll figure out a way to get back to school. How much meaning do you need?”
For a moment I almost confessed the truth about the enormous hole at the center of my life and how I’d been hoping River might distract me from my loneliness. “Something’s missing,” I said instead. “And I never expect to get it back.”
She knew right away what I was referring to. “But you will,” she said. “Just go about your normal life. Someday you’ll get over him, and someone else will come along.”
“I wish I could believe you,” I said. “But I don’t think so. I know this will sound completely melodramatic, but I think I’ve had the kind of love that spoils a person for anything else, like in a movie.”
“Or a love song?” Diana smiled indulgently at me. “Believe that all you want, but don’t let it chase you off to Haiti. Whatever you think, I know someone will love you the way you need to be loved. I’m completely certain of it. And you know I’m never wrong. How could I be? I’m River St. John’s sister. We St. Johns have got the wisdom thing all sewn up.”
I managed a smile.
“I’m not trying to boss you around,” she said. “Despite how it sounds. I know you need to decide for yourself.”
“Thank you.” We had reached the end of the trail and stood at the edge of the Sound. The wind lifted our hair, and I recalled this was the same body of water I’d spent so many hours beside while Maddy was at preschool, when I was waiting, without knowing it, to meet Nico Rathburn and fall in love with him. If I took off my shoes and stepped in the Sound right now, I might touch the very same water I’d skipped stones into back when I had my whole life ahead of me. I had an urge to dive in and ride the current east, back to Thornfield Park.
“I won’t do anything rash,” I told Diana, and believed I was speaking the truth.
CHAPTER 26
A week later, I made up my mind. I’d finished the autobiography River had given me, and every few mornings after I’d find a new book about Haiti on the kitchen table. He didn’t say a word, but I knew he’d left them there for me. Each was more heartrending than the last. I would take my lunch break at my desk and, while eating my sandwich, would read about severely malnourished children dying of diarrhea and pneumonia. The more I learned, the sadder I became. So much needed f
ixing in the world, and there seemed so little one person could do to help.
At night, River and I continued on with our French sessions. Though some strange magnetism held us side by side on the couch late into the night, there hadn’t been a repeat of that moment a few weeks before when I had thought he might try to kiss me. After we wished each other good night, I would go back to my room and read some more, unable to put the books down, sadness and restlessness gnawing at me. Instead of lessening with time, as I had hoped it might, the loneliness I carried around in the pit of my stomach seemed to grow. Every day the feeling got stronger: I had to do something, anything, to change my life.
So I waited one night until Diana and Maria had gone to bed, then told River I had an answer for him. The apartment dark and quiet around us, we sat in the lamplight, textbooks spread out on the coffee table.
“You’ve made a decision?” His tone was gentle, endlessly patient.
“I’ll come with you,” I told him. “I’m prepared to work beside you.”
He reached for a book, picked it up, and set it down, his eyes not leaving my face. “You will? You’re sure?”
I was sure, wasn’t I? I inhaled deeply and forged onward. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. It’s hard to say no when there are people out there who so desperately need my help.”
“I need your help,” River said, with an earnestness I’d never heard before. His arms closed around me, and I knew the tension between us hadn’t been a figment of my imagination. We held each other for a long time, and tears sprang to my eyes when I realized how badly I’d missed being in a man’s arms. I could have stayed like that forever, my head on his chest, his breath stirring my hair. But then he drew back, and I was startled by the intensity of his gaze. Before I could think what to say or do, his lips were on mine. His kiss was muscular, and I felt myself respond, melting into him.
We kissed awhile longer, then he pulled back, and we stared wordlessly at each other. He stroked my cheek with a steady hand, and out of nowhere a distant memory popped into my mind: the way he had trembled and blushed when he looked at Rosalie, so undone by her. Now as he looked at me, his gaze was steady, his touch on my cheek sure and deliberate. Whatever he was feeling for me wasn’t the same thing he had felt for Rosalie. So what was happening between us?
“Wait.” I slipped away from him and said the first thing that popped into my mind. “I didn’t agree to this.” He looked hurt, and I instantly regretted my words. “I mean, I’m trying to understand. What is this? Between us. I’ve felt it too, but I’m just not sure what it is.”
Though his look stung me, his voice remained calm, reasonable. “You said you wanted to come to Haiti with me.”
I nodded.
“I thought that meant you wanted the same thing I want.”
I struggled for the right words. “I can’t tell what you want. From me, that is.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” River moved closer to me. “I want us to take care of each other. To keep each other company. We’ll be so far from everyone we know. We’ll need each other.” Now his hands grasped my shoulders; he rested his forehead against mine. “Maybe you haven’t noticed how lonely I’ve been. How badly I’ve been wanting to touch you.”
Though his words should have thrilled me, I felt an unexpected reluctance. He leaned in to kiss me again. I felt myself getting warm. Everything was changing suddenly, irrevocably. Again, I pulled away. “But you don’t love me,” I said. “I don’t love you.” I felt certain that both statements were true.
He didn’t contradict me. “That could change. In Haiti, we’ll only have each other. We like and respect each other already, and I want so much to be close to you.” He cupped my face in his hands. “In time, we’ll come to love each other. Think what a team we could make. The two of us… we’re so much alike.” He bent to kiss me again, and I thought of Diana or Maria coming into the living room and finding us in each other’s arms. I started to make a small noise of objection that River seemed to take as an expression of pleasure. His arms wrapped around me once more, tighter this time.
Was he right? Were the two of us really that much alike? I thought again of how I’d seen him resist Rosalie, turning away from the woman he really wanted, choosing to be governed by logic instead of desire.
“Jane,” he whispered. “Jane.”
Without meaning to, I stiffened and pulled back. His voice, saying my name that way, wasn’t the right voice. “I can’t,” I said. “Not like this. I didn’t intend this. I didn’t mean…”
“You promised to come with me. Are you backing out?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll go with you, but I won’t… I won’t be with you.”
“If you come to Haiti with me, this will always be there. We might as well just let it happen.”
I slid out of his arms. “I need to think. I’m going out for a walk.”
“You can’t go out there now. Not by yourself. It’s dangerous.”
Was he worried about me because he cared about me? Or because he didn’t want to lose his assistant, his support system, his comrade, his lover? I didn’t know. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take a cab.”
“To where?” he asked. “Where will you go this time of night?”
“I’m still working that out.”
“You’ll come back to me, won’t you? Promise you will.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll tell you as soon as I’ve thought it through.”
All I knew was that I had to get away from him right then, before he talked me into anything else. He followed me into the kitchen and watched as I called the cab company from the phone on the wall. I ran to my bedroom, grabbed my wallet and a jacket, and started down the stairs, out to the street, toward the corner where I’d told the dispatcher I’d be standing.
The cab took a while to arrive. A pair of men came laughing and talking loudly down the street, eyeing me curiously before passing by. The night was cold; the jacket I’d chosen wasn’t warm enough. I stomped my feet and rubbed my hands together, trying to wrap my mind around the dilemma before me. I didn’t love River, and he didn’t love me, but maybe he was right. Maybe we could learn to have feelings for each other. Maybe the work in Haiti was something I truly wanted to do, but maybe I had only said yes to please River. In the past few weeks I’d gotten hopelessly confused about where my desires ended and his began. Then there was the most disturbing question of all: River was noble, smart, kind, and jaw-droppingly handsome, and he chose me. If I couldn’t love him, what hope did I have of ever loving anyone again?
Finally, the cab arrived, driven by a young man with blond dreadlocks. The interior smelled faintly of marijuana. A button bearing the sad-eyed face of Bob Marley dangled from the rearview mirror. “Hey,” he said, opening the door. “Where you going?”
I hadn’t given the question much thought. “Take me to the Yale campus,” I said.
“Anywhere in particular?”
“I’ll let you know when we get close.”
The cab’s radio was tuned to a rock station and was so loud I could hardly think. I tried to imagine living with River, Diana, and Maria after I’d turned him away and backed out of our deal. Eating with him, living side by side with him, knowing how I’d let him down, would be excruciating. And when they learned what had transpired between us, maybe Diana and Maria would be disappointed in me as well. Wouldn’t it be easier all around just to do as River wanted?
The cab took a sharp right, and I slid across the battered backseat. “Sorry about that,” the cabbie said.
“It’s okay.” I watched the red numbers on the meter ratchet skyward and checked my wallet. Fortunately I had stopped at the bank and gotten cash yesterday. I put my wallet back into my pocket.
I could see we were nearing campus. What would I do then? And would I dare go home that night? If not, where would I sleep? There it was again, that question. Surely it would be simpler to drift on the current of River’s will, let it carry me where it wante
d. I thought of his hands on my shoulders, his eager lips. What on earth was the matter with me? And what was I holding out for? A memory, long gone, receding further and further with every day that passed… every day that would pass from here on out.
The cab slowed to a halt; we’d hit construction. The cabbie swore under his breath and turned the volume of the radio still louder. My head hurt from thinking so hard. If only I didn’t have to decide, I thought. If only the universe would send me some kind of clear, unmistakable sign.
Whatever song the radio had been playing ended, and a new, slower one started. I sighed. It didn’t look as though we’d be going anywhere soon. And then I heard Nico’s voice. It was a song I’d never heard before. I struggled to make out the lyrics. “You were my hands,” I heard him sing. “You were my eyes. There’s nothing left to reach for now, nothing left to see.” My heart pounded; I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. The song was about sadness, that much was sure. I caught something about a mistake, something about pain, something about someone being lost. As much as I was trying to concentrate, the words passed too quickly, slipping over and around me like water in a fast-moving stream. The very tone of Nico’s voice tore me in half. I would have to hear this song again and again and memorize it to decode the subtleties of whatever message it was trying to send me. One thing seemed clear: the song had been written for me. Nico’s voice sounded raw, haunted, disconsolate.
Then, too soon, the song was over. The DJ’s voice came on. “That’s the newest news from an old friend, Nico Rathburn. If you’re a Rathburn fan, run out to the Film Forum and catch the new documentary about his life on tour — Nothing Left to Reach For — in a limited engagement. Catch it before it’s gone.”