Afterlife - Douglas Clegg [8]
“Let’s turn it off, okay?”
“I can’t sleep,” Matt said.
She watched the back of his head. “All right. But get to bed soon. Okay?”
No response.
“Matt?”
“Okay,” he said.
“Don’t forget. You promised you’d walk Livy to the bus stop tomorrow.”
“I do it every Thursday, don’t I?” Then, he turned around to look at her. In his hand, his camcorder. “Smile for the camera, Julie.”
“Aw, you’re catching me at my best,” she laughed. “Are you videoing the Springer show?”
“Nope. Just documenting my life,” he said.
“To bed,” she said. “Another half-hour, okay?”
“Watch the birdie,” he said, following her movements with the camera as she left the room and went back upstairs.
3
She lugged her laptop to bed, and plugged it in and then went online. She checked her email. One email from Hut, sent early in the day. She tried to open it but it was marked as “unavailable.” It bugged her that her email service did that sometimes—or Hut might’ve even done it if he had unsent the email. She wondered what it said. Maybe he had sent a note about what time he’d get home, and then had to change it. Or maybe one of the assistants had sent it. She could’ve called the clinic, but decided against it. No need to be paranoid. No more Clinging Julie, as Hut had sharply called her when she’d shown up a little too much, too often, unannounced at the clinic. She’d heard enough stories about his first wife and how she’d never given him any space for his work.
That won’t be me. I wouldn’t want him hanging around the ER, either.
She saw her sister’s name come up on her computer screen—a instant message.
“Want to Scrabble?” her sister asked.
“Sure. What a day.”
“Let’s phone,” her sister’s words appeared in a instant message box on her computer screen.
Julie picked up the phone and pressed speed dial on her sister’s number. The click on the other end. “Mel. Melly. Melanie. How’d you know I’d be up?”
“Telepathy,” Mel said, her voice upbeat, as usual. “Naw, just a guess. Julie, I’ve got to tell you. There’s a new hot guy at work. I know I’m too old to chase teenagers, but he’s in his twenties, and I just want to do him.”
“Mel.”
“Oh. Sorry. I forgot. You’re married. You’re not allowed to look at the menu anymore.”
“He isn’t home yet. It pisses me off. And drives me nuts.”
“You marry a doc, you marry a God. And God does what God wants.”
“Enough.”
“I’m sorry. You married him, not me. You could’ve had my life. The revolving door of men.”
The Scrabble board appeared on the computer monitor’s screen. Mel had already begun putting letters on it. The word “round” came up.
“What if he’s had an accident?” Then, Julie added, “I can’t believe you got all five letters for ‘round.’ You must be cheating.”
“Luck of the draw,” Mel said.
Julie figured out her word for the online Scrabble board: she just added a “g” to “round” to make it “ground.” A genuine coup in Scrabble, as far as she was concerned.
“He hasn’t had an accident,” Mel said. “It’s not like this is the first time. Shall I remind you of the other nights he’s been late?”
A slight pause on the line. Something left unsaid. Better left that way, Julie thought. Don’t think about the phone number you found in his jacket. Don’t think about it.
“He’s fine,” Mel said. “You work long hours, too. You know the life. Maybe it’s completely innocent.” Mel had that edge to her voice, and Julie hated hearing it. It meant that her sister was just saying what she thought Julie wanted to hear.
“You think everybody cheats on everybody,” Julie said.
“Maybe Hut’s different.” Mel said it with her liar voice that was a little too cutesy.
On the online Scrabble board, Mel added the word “under” to “ground.”
“You are too lucky to get those five letters. It almost feels like cheating,” Julie said.
“The luck of the draw.”
“Okay, I’ll trust you. Cheater.” Julie chuckled, glancing through the letters she had to see how she could score triple points.
“Look, Julie, if you and Hut are still having problems…”
“You know,” Julie said. “When we met,