“Odd!” Paul called out. He smiled at Julia. “Don’t worry. We’ll track him down.”
From the alley in back of the café came a “Wait a sec!” and a moment later, Odd walked into the office, wiping greasy hands on an equally greasy rag. “Yeah?”
“Have you seen Gregory today?”
The old man nodded. “Sure. He was sitting on one of the benches in the park reading a magazine about twenty minutes ago. I think he was going to go over to the bar afterward. The Miner’s Tavern.” He looked sideways at Julia. “He don’t drink much, but he seems to have some kind of feeling for that place, although I don’t rightly know what it is.”
She smiled thinly. “Thanks.”
Odd nodded. “That all, boss?”
Paul grinned, waved him away. He turned toward Julia. “You going over there to get him?”
She shook her head. “I was going to meet him for lunch, but I guess I’ll just go home.”
“You’re welcome to join me,” Paul said. “I was getting ready to eat myself.”
She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I’d like that.”
“Grab yourself a table out there. I’ll just wash up and join you.”
She walked out of his office to the café proper, sitting down at a table near the window. Paul joined her a moment later. “Our lunch menu isn’t too extensive. How about a pizza bagel?”
“Sounds delicious,” she told him.
“And coffee?”
“Iced cappuccino?”
“Iced cappuccino it is.” He walked over to the counter, spoke to the girl, then returned and sat down across from her.
“I don’t mean to pry,” he said. “And I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but how are things with you and Gregory?”
She shrugged noncommittally. “Okay.”
“Lying to you? Not telling you where he’s going?” He held up a hand. “I know it’s none of my business, and you can tell me to buzz off, but that doesn’t sound ‘okay’ to me.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason for it. I’m sure there’s less here than meets the eye.”
“Maybe.” He nodded. “Maybe. But like I said, he hasn’t stopped by all week, and the last few times I’ve seen him, he’s seemed a little distracted, a little… I don’t know. Lost.”
Lost. It was a good word, and it described her take on the situation perfectly. She was tempted to talk to Paul, to tell him everything—about Gregory’s increasing coldness toward her and the kids, the trouble they were all having adjusting to McGuane, even her little adventure up in Russiantown. But Paul was Gregory’s friend, not hers, and while he seemed sympathetic, she knew where his loyalties lay.
On the other hand, she’d already opened up enough to tell him that Gregory was MIA today, and perhaps if they talked he could shed some light on what was happening, offer a different perspective. He was Gregory’s friend, and perhaps that meant he was as concerned about Gregory as she was.
She took a deep breath. Started talking.
She left out the supernatural stuff, the hints of weirdness and suspicions of hauntings—she needed all the credibility she could muster here—but she ran down everything that had happened since they’d won the lottery. They had changed, she said, drifted apart. And it wasn’t the money, she emphasized. It was… this place. Sometime in the middle of the conversation the girl arrived with their food and coffee, but Julia didn’t stop, didn’t pause, just kept going, until, finally, drained, she leaned back in her chair.
Paul was silent for a moment. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
“That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “I think I just needed to get it off my chest. I needed a sympathetic ear more than helpful advice.” She took a bite of the now-cold pizza bagel, a huge sip of the coffee.
“I can’t help but think that if you told Gregory this, sat him down and explained it to him exactly the same way you explained it to me, he would understand. I mean, he’s not a bad guy. And he’s not a dumb guy. And I’m sure he realizes something’s wrong. I know it sounds corny and clichéd, but maybe the two of you just need to communicate. If you sit down without the kids and the grandma and just talk to each other—”
“That’s the problem. We don’t seem to be able to talk to each other lately.”
“He’s going through something, and I don’t think either of us knows what it is.” Paul finished his coffee, motioned for more. “I don’t want to sound like some pop psychologist, but I can tell you that he got a lot more secretive, a lot more withdrawn, after his dad died. There wasn’t a big personality change or anything, but he went through some kind of head trip, something that he didn’t tell any of us about, any of his friends. Maybe coming back here—and living with his mom again—brought some of that back.”
Julia nodded. “I’ve thought of that,” she agreed.
“And I’m hoping that’s all it is. I’m hoping he just needs a little space, a little time to get himself together and sort things through. And I’m trying to give that to him. But life doesn’t stop just because you have a few problems to work out. And, besides, I’m his wife. He’s supposed to be working them out with me. It’s not as if I’ve ever been uncaring or unsympathetic. I think he knows he can come to me with anything, that I’ll always be here for him. We’re partners here. Or at least we’re supposed to be.”
“Give it a little more time,” Paul suggested.
“I have no choice. What else can I do?”
They were silent for a few minutes, Julia finishing her food, Gregory getting a refill on his coffee.
“No relationship’s perfect,” Paul said finally. “There are always problems.”
Julia waved him away. “You think I don’t know that by now? As long as we’ve been married?”
Paul took a deep breath. “You know, Deanna and I are having some problems too,” he said. He held up a quick hand. “Nothing serious, nothing we haven’t been through before, but in the peaks-and-valleys scenario we’re in a valley right now.”
She smiled. “Maybe it’s catching.”
“Maybe,” he said. But he did not smile.
She leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re Deanna’s friend. I was hoping you could tell me. I know she talks to you—”
“Yeah, but not about that. I was under the impression that everything was fine between you two.”
“Maybe it is,” he said. “Maybe I’m reading more into this than I should. I hope I am. I love Deanna more now than I ever have, but lately she’s been kind of bitchy.”
“PMS?” Julia suggested, joking.
He reddened. “No, it’s not that.”
She was immediately sorry she’d mentioned it. “I didn’t mean to make light of—”
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I know you’re not serious.”
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.
He sighed. “I suppose we could spy on each others’ spouses, report back to each other.”
“Is that a joke?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yeah. That’s a joke.”
“If you’d like me to talk to her, I will.”
“No. I was just kind of curious if she’d said anything to you.”
Julia shook her head. “Like I said, I had the impression that everything was fine.”
“She hasn’t seemed bitchy to you?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe it’s all in my head. Or maybe she’s jealous because she’s been hanging around you so much lately. After all, you’re a very attractive woman.” He tried to laugh it off, but the humor fell flat and she felt slightly uncomfortable.
She pushed her chair away from the table, stood.