Nathan’s smile vanished. Suddenly he looked grim, pained. “I see where this is going. Not a chance, Cousin.”
Someone in the bar pinged Rob; Rob sent a quick decline, wondering who would be interested in talking to a guy with a rented system, a guy who was so scrawny he looked like bait for stray cats. “But you promised her you’d visit.”
“Of course I promised her. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hell, no, Winter. I can’t afford it? I can’t imagine anything more depressing than visiting my dead ex-girlfriend every couple of months?’” He craned his neck to look around Rob, maybe at a woman who had pinged him. “I’m sorry I went there in the first place.”
A dark-haired woman appeared in the entrance, her eyes red, her lower lip trembling. She looked utterly out of place, her baggy, multipocket pants and red sweatshirt not intended to show off her figure. It had to be Nathan’s friend.
Rob talked faster. “I understand what you’re saying, but these visits mean the world to her; she clings to them like a lifeline. I thought if you—”
“They’re not a lifeline, because she’s not alive.” Nathan put a hand on Rob’s shoulder, lowered his voice as the woman approached. “I don’t mean to be cruel, but Cousin, you snipped her lifeline.”
The woman rushed into Nathan’s arms, sobbing. “Give me a sec, Veronika,” he said, prying her off far enough to offer Rob his hand. “I admire what you’re doing. No—‘admire’ isn’t strong enough. I’m in awe.” The woman clinging to Nathan turned to look at Rob, her eyes wet, but curious. She was on the chunky side, her brown hair a great unkempt tornado, her eyes squinty. Despite all of that, she was cute, in a shy, intellectual sort of way. Rob wasn’t sure if he should introduce himself, or if that would seem insensitive, given her agitated state.
“I just sent you nine hundred toward your next visit,” Nathan said. “I’ll help when I can. That’s the best I can do.” He gave Rob’s hand a final squeeze and let it go.
“Thanks. That helps more than I can say.”
“Yeah, well, it’s guilt money. I figure I’m ten percent responsible for what happened.”
Nathan turned his attention toward Veronika, and Rob headed for the exit. He was disappointed, but with an extra nine hundred in his account it hadn’t been a total loss.
“And Cousin?” Nathan called. Rob turned back. “Let me buy you a drink sometime. I’d like to see if some of whatever it is you have rubs off.”
“I’d like that,” Rob said.
Nathan nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”
As he left, Rob heard the woman breaking into sobs. Nathan had said it was about someone jumping off a bridge. Rob wondered if he’d meant it figuratively, or literally. It would be rude to linger, so he’d probably never find out.
19
Veronika
All night, Veronika saw the man leap off the bridge. She’d doze from time to time, and wake feeling sure the whole incident had been something she’d seen on TV, or in an interactive, and then with a jolt she’d realized that no, it had actually happened. Then when that jolt had just about played itself out, she remembered she was going to see Sander and Jilly in the morning, and a fresh jolt of adrenaline would hit her. When she dragged herself out of bed at six, she was exhausted.
There was no way she could see her sister. She needed to be at her best for that encounter, otherwise she’d be a twitching, nervous mess. As she showered and dressed, she went back and forth, came close to telling Nathan to stay home half a dozen times, finally decided she would let him show up, then suggest they get doughnuts instead.
All of her anxiety evaporated when the door opened and Nathan let himself in. He was perfect. His haircut probably cost more than Jilly’s car, the points on his boots were a foot long and rapier-sharp, and his eyes were auburn to match his silk cravat. He’d opted for a full system, wrists to shoulders to breastbone, like he was prepared for battle.
A glow of triumph washed over Veronika, erasing much of the awfulness of the previous day, returning her thoughts to an older, long-festering trauma. The prodigal daughter returns. Jilly would feel like so much river scum when Veronika made her entrance.
“Remember, you have to act like my boyfriend. Like you’re madly in love with me.”
Nathan shrugged. “No problem. You can’t be a good dating coach if you’re not a good actor.”
That stung a little, but Veronika didn’t let it show. “Give me a minute.” She hurried off to put on her outfit—a six-piece ensemble constructed of bright primary colors to fit the mood of a child’s birthday party.
When she paused in the doorway, Nathan clutched his heart. “My God, you’re ravishing!” There was a playfulness to his tone, but still, he looked at her toe to head, the way you look at a woman rather than a buddy.
“Ready?” He offered Veronika his arm. The door adjusted to allow them to leave side by side. Nathan’s biceps felt like marble under her fingers.
“How are you feeling, about the jumper?” Nathan asked as his vehicle hit the ramp to Low Town. He grasped the control stick.
“A little better, I guess. I mean, at least I tried to stop him. Fifty people in screens just watched.”
“Absolutely. That’s what I was trying to tell you last night. It’s a shame the man died, but you should feel proud.”
“I was also thinking that it’s possible I did save someone. I spent over sixty hours up there, and there was only one suicide attempt during that time. Last year there were seven in that same period, so either it’s a fluke, or my presence discouraged approximately six people from jumping to their deaths.”
“Or they came back when you weren’t there and jumped anyway.” Nathan laughed.
Veronika raised a finger. “In which case we should see a surge in the prevalence of suicides during the hours I’m not there, as compared to previous years. And you know what?” She reached over and flicked his earlobe. “We don’t.”
“Ow.” Nathan clapped his palm over his earlobe. “That was uncalled for.” He reached out, tried to twist her nipple, but she was ready for it and parried, both of them giggling. “You know, it would have been easier for me to be madly in love with you for this party if my ear wasn’t throbbing.”
“I’m sorry.” Veronika made a show of examining his ear for bruises or bleeding.
Veronika looked out at the crowded streets of Low Town, the mélange of pedestrians, bicycles, Scamps, minis, cars, buses, tubes winding through mottled patches of sunlight mixed with dim stretches. It was hard for her to believe she’d spent most of her life here.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to say to your sister when you see her?”
The question set Veronika’s heart pounding. She’d thought of a thousand things she might say to Jilly, none of them quite right. “I think I’m going to go with, ‘Hello.’”
“That’s good.” Nathan nodded. “Pithy, to the point.”
“I think so.”
He slowed. “There’s a spot.”
“Now, don’t open your door. People could be watching,” Nathan said as the vehicle slid into the tight space horizontally. He got out and went around to her door.
The party was on the roof; Veronika thought she heard the screeches of kids having fun through the traffic noise, but wasn’t sure.
She was breathless from nerves by the time they stepped into the elevator. It was almost inconceivable that she was about to see Jilly, her parents. Sander. They seemed like part of some other lifetime.
“Relax, it’s going to go fine. I promise.” Nathan’s voice helped calm her, reminded her that she wasn’t going into this alone.