Jake accompanied Rachel to view apartments the next day, since he might soon be doing this himself, but he grew bored after the second one, a studio in the Sunset district listed at $1200 per month. The apartment was clean and roomy with hardwood floors and large windows, but he told Rachel as they left that it certainly wasn’t worth $1200 a month. She smiled at him. “That’s not as high as you think.”
“It’s not?”
“Poor Jake. If you do stay down here, you’re in for a shock.”
He wasn’t sure if she was serious until he saw her face, and he said, “No wonder you guys are in debt.”
“You’re right. I should be looking at cheaper places.” They climbed into the car, which hadn’t been repaired yet. They had stuffed the deflated airbags into the steering wheel and dashboard, but the compartments rattled open. Eugene had said he didn’t need the car, and would try to take care of the repairs soon. Rachel added, “When we split up, I’m going to be taking on more debt. Boy, my life is getting rosier and rosier.”
“How’re you going to pay it off?”
“Simple. I’ll have to get another job.”
“What about your time off?”
She sighed. “That’s pretty much over.”
“That was short.”
“Unless you have thirty grand to give me, I have no choice.”
He asked, “Why don’t you live in a cheaper area?”
“Maybe, but if I want to get a good job, this is the place.”
“So you’re kind of trapped.”
She was about to start the car, but stopped. She thought about this, then rested her head on the steering wheel. “Holy moly, what am I doing?”
Jake watched her.
“I can’t afford these places. I can’t afford anything. I’m in trouble.” She raised her head. “Maybe I should go live with my mother for a while.”
Jake smiled. “You don’t want to do that.”
“No, I don’t.” She turned to him. “I had to do this, you know.”
He nodded.
“I was…losing myself.”
“Sinking,” he said.
She glanced at him. “All right. I guess so.” Jake asked, “Still?”
“I don’t know. But at least I’m doing something. Moving ahead.”
Jake nodded.
“You know, sometimes I wonder if I knew this all along. Him, too.”
“Splitting up?”
“From the beginning, we knew it might not work. We were so different, and it was obvious from the beginning. Our personalities, our interests.”
“Like what?”
“We never do the same things. He doesn’t like to read, he doesn’t like the gym. I hate watching TV and movies, and I hate centering my life around work.”
“So why’d you get married in the first place?”
She was quiet for a while. She finally said, “Because we were in love.”
Jake visited them once when they were still dating, when Eugene lived in the Richmond district. It was true: they had been in love. He had noticed it then, their giddy attention towards each other, the way they held hands in an unembarrassed way and she leaned her head on Eugene’s shoulder. He said, “I remember. You two were all lovey-dovey. It was strange seeing him like that.”
“That’s right. You came by before we got engaged. We were so young.” She stared out onto the street. “Young and stupid. We had all these plans, but nothing went quite right.”
Jake heard the wistfulness in her voice, and said, “You mean your jobs?”
“That and other things.”
“Like what?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I think I mentioned it. We tried to have children.”
Jake remembered that yes, she had told him. “Can I ask why?”
“Why we wanted children?”
“Why you couldn’t.”
She frowned. “It’s complicated.”
Jake waited.
Rachel said, “Euge wanted kids more than I did.” She explained that Euge wanted the clichéd family, with two kids, a house in the suburbs, and Rachel driving an SUV to take little Robert and Sarah (no chance of them being teased for their names, unlike him, he had said) to soccer practice and music lessons. When they thought they were going to be rich and were scouting towns in Marin, they stumbled across a public park in Mill Valley where there were three simultaneous soccer games—girls’, pee-wee, and boys’—on adjoining fields, the parents clapping from the sidelines and the parking lots filled with gigantic four-wheel drives sparkling in the sun. Rachel had watched Euge take this in, his gaze sweeping across the fields, stopping at Mt. Tam, the sky deep blue, the yells and whistles and clapping surrounding them, and she could’ve sworn she saw his eyes watering. He had turned to her and said, “Pretty nice.”
Jake said, “I think he’s into that whole thing. Family.”
“Of course. He’s never had it. A normal family, stability. Who has? I understand.”
“And you?”
“I didn’t feel the same need, no. I’m not sure why.”
“But you went along.”
“Sure. It could’ve been nice.”
“But…?”
“Endometriosis.”
“What’s that?”
Rachel told him it was an abnormality—a disease, really, that screwed up the lining of her uterus—and it soon overwhelmed their lives. She agreed to the laser surgery. She agreed to the drugs, the clomiphene citrate, the Pergonal, Humegon, and Fertinex. She handled the nausea, vomiting, bleeding, headaches, bloating, rashes, and all those lovely side effects. Of course their health insurance didn’t cover this. Of course it didn’t work. At one point they were going to induce false menopause with even harsher drugs to stop the endometrial cells from producing. Then they’d try implantation (again), and she said, You know what? Forget it. I’m done. We’re done. You want a kid? We’ll adopt.
But Euge didn’t want that.
“Why not?” Jake asked.
“He just didn’t. But then things started going wrong anyway. And we were at each others’ throats.”
“I didn’t know all this.”
“Why would you?” She checked her planner.
“Come on, let’s blow off the apartments,” he finally said. “Let me take you out to lunch.”
“But I have appointments—”
“More $1200 studios?”
Nodding, she started the car. “You’re right. Screw those. Where to?”
“How about Cow Hollow? There are some nice places to eat on Union.”
She said, “Sure, why not. Let’s eat out. Let’s spend more money.”
After a quick lunch at a soup and salad restaurant, Jake and Rachel walked around the neighborhood. When they approached the corner near Franklin & Sons Jewelry, Jake guided them up the side street and glanced through the store window. A different person at the counter, a young man with gold-rimmed glasses, was wiping the display cases. Jake said, “Can we go in here?”
Rachel eyed him. “Okay.”
They stepped inside. Jake looked quickly at the alarm unit again, trying to see what kind of keyhole it was. Tubular cylinder. Shit. Those were a nightmare.
“Good afternoon,” the young man said. “May I help you?”
Jake smiled. “My wife is looking at diamond rings.”
Rachel began to turn towards him, but stopped herself.
“We have a great selection,” the man said. “Over here, you’ll see, are our gold and platinum rings, all set with very high-grade diamonds.”
Jake looked for cameras, but saw none. He said to Rachel, “Honey, why don’t you check those out? I’ll just look around.”
She nodded. The young man met her at the end of the counter and began pointing out different rings and telling her what they were. Jake took inventory: six floor display cases with varying amounts of jewelry, two wall-mounted displays behind the counter with diamond and pearl necklaces, a small display of watches in the corner, and a window display with a mixture of gems and jewelry. If the owner didn’t take these home, then the back room held it all. He checked the line of views through the window. He couldn’t see anything on Union; cars and people on that main street couldn’t see anything in here. It would be hidden at night from police drive-bys.
Jake heard Rachel playing her part, telling the man that she hated gaudy rings, but liked the diamonds large.
The back room was separated by a wooden door with a simple pin and tumbler, but Jake needed to see everything behind it. He approached the young man and asked, “May I use your bathroom?”
The man hesitated. “Sorry, customers aren’t allowed in back.”
“Just for a minute? It’s a little…urgent.”
“There are bathrooms at the restaurant across the street.”
“I’ll be really fast.”
“Sorry. My boss would kill me.”
Rachel watched Jake, and he smiled. “That’s fine. We should go then, honey.”
She took his arm as they walked out. They moved down the street, out of sight of the store, then Rachel asked, “What are you up to?”
“Just looking.”
“I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
She gripped his arm tighter. “I thought you were done with all this.”
“Did I say that?”
“No, but you implied it.”
Was this true? The mess with Bobby had scared him, but whatever fear or regret he had felt was wearing off quickly. He said, “Can I borrow the car tonight?”
“Why?”
“I want to follow the owner, find out where he lives.”
“What are you doing?”
He turned to her. “My job.” He liked the feeling of her arm linked with his and pulled her closer. Their legs touched, and he said softly, “I’ll be careful. Very careful.”
“But why? Do you need the money?”
“Not yet,” he said. Though he liked the idea of having a cushion, something he had had only once before.
“Then why?” Her cheeks were pink, and she blinked rapidly, trying to focus on him.
“Because, it’s…it’s what I do.” He gave her arm a light squeeze, then pulled away. Her perfume mingled with the smell of coffee. As his fingers brushed down her arm, he felt the bracelet he had given her and smiled. “You’re wearing it?”
“I like it.”
“So, can I borrow the car?”
“I’ll drive you. What time?”
“You will drive me?” he asked.
“I will. What time?”
“Six. You don’t have to.”
“I know,” she said.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“No, of course not.”