Samantha and I sat in my jeep in front of Dylan’s house. I’d been at the Philadelphia International Airport to meet her seven thirty flight. She was going to be staying with Dylan, although something about it made me a little uneasy. She was in between boyfriends. Samantha had been involved with this dermatologist, and it seemed like they were fairly serious. But I knew from the beginning it wouldn’t last. Dermatology wasn’t the most exciting profession, even though it came with the title of doctor. He was tall, blonde-haired, good-looking, drove a nice car, had money, but he just didn’t seem to fit well with Samantha. He became too demanding like they all did, asking too many questions about where she was, and that was it. He was history. The period in between her relationships usually lasted a few months at the most, and they were hallmarked by a frenzy of dating. She was out all the time, socializing with friends, at bars and would inevitably meet men. I remembered one time when she was dating everyday and sometimes two dates per day on the weekend. If she wasn’t working she was out somewhere. Eventually she’d get tired of all the pointless parties and she’d settle on one of them. That was the beginning of the relationship phase. And even then she had one eye open for other possibilities.
I saw her in the airport before she saw me. Her tall blonde head stood out above all the people of average height around her. Her hair was down. She wore faded jeans and her well worn brown leather jacket. Even in her casual wear, she drew looks from people as she passed them. She was oblivious to it. She could’ve been a model. People told her that all the time and she had been recruited by a local agency when she was fifteen. After six months she was bored with it and quit.
I looked at my watch. It was almost nine. Samantha didn’t ask why we were just sitting in the car instead of going in. I guess she figured I had my reasons. Dylan’s car was in the driveway and he was expecting us to go in the house at some point tonight.
“Mackenzie, you look good. You’ve lost weight, you know. Look at those pants you’re wearing.” They were a little loose.
“Stress’ll do it.” It was so nice to have someone so familiar close by. We spent the drive from the airport just chatting about nothing in particular.
“So tell me about Dylan,” she said.
“He’s the lawyer handling Nick’s estate.”
“And?”
“He was nice enough to let you stay with him for a few days so please, be a good guest, don’t take advantage of him.”
“Take advantage of him how? Is he cute?”
I glanced over at her. “He’s okay.”
“Oh. Topic off limits.” She was looking out the window.
I knew her so well. She’d drop it for now but it’d come up again before the night was over. I took a deep breath and got out of the car. Samantha carried her bag and followed behind me. I felt like pushing her back into the jeep and taking her to the nearest hotel. Samantha hadn’t ever purposely taken a boyfriend from me or even openly competed for attention. It didn’t happen that way. Men went after her, and if she knew I was interested she’d ignore them, but it didn’t always work out nicely, and I’d gotten my heart broken a few times over the years. But Dylan wasn’t my boyfriend. We were just friends and we had a nice dynamic going. And I knew that the minute he opened that door and saw Samantha that dynamic would be altered permanently. And I’d be leaving them together, alone. Night after night. In the same house. It was just natural they’d be attracted to each to other and they would look good together. Both tall, good looking.
Dylan had opened the front door. I walked in and stepped aside.
“Dylan, Samantha. Samantha. Dylan.” I watched. He smiled. He took her in. She took him in. He took her bag. We all sat down. Samantha crossed her long legs and slipped out of her leather jacket, holding it in her lap. Her hair had gotten long and I could see she’d highlighted it in places, making the already blonde hairs almost white. When she woke up that morning I guess she’d decided that her tightest pale pink cashmere sweater would make really good travel clothing. She was one of the only thin women I’d ever seen in person that still had breasts and an ass. Right at that moment I hated her. Dylan jumped up to take her coat from her.
“Do you have anything to drink, Dylan?” I asked. I wandered into the kitchen and turned on the light. Samantha followed me. I opened the refrigerator and took out a beer.
“Help yourself,” Dylan called from the living room.
I pulled the cap off and swallowed it from the bottle. Dark beer. Guinness Stout. It was bitter but I didn’t care. I started to leave the room when Dylan came in. I heard him say, “Do you want anything, Samantha?” and then her voice and then high pitched laughter. I wandered into the bathroom and shut the door and leaned against it. A few days, a week tops and I’d be out of here, back home in Portland. Everything and everyone associated with this adventure would be just a memory.
I looked at myself. My hair was down. It didn’t look too bad. My cheekbones were a little more pronounced because I’d lost some weight. I wasn’t bad looking, really. Then why did I feel so ugly and out of sorts? I took another swallow of beer and then banged my head lightly on the mirror. What was wrong with me? I was attracted to Dylan but then I could probably be attracted to a lot of people. I wasn’t ready for a relationship. Everything inside me was a jangled mess. I could hear more laughter from the living room. I had that feeling you get right before you start to cry and I refused to sit in this bathroom and feel sorry for myself. I ran my hands through my hair and pulled open the door.
Samantha and Dylan had their backs to me. They were standing in the doorway of the kitchen, chatting, and hadn’t even missed me. If I tip toed I could make my way to the door and sneak out with no one the wiser.
Dylan turned suddenly and grabbed my arm. “I need to talk to you.”
He pulled me over and sat down on the couch. “I have info for you about the picture. I emailed around and finally got in touch with Phillip Simmons. He lives out in Seattle now. He remembered when that was taken.
Phillip’s mother dropped him and his friend Jim Durham off at the law office. Phillips’s father was supposed to take them home with him, but something happened, he got delayed, whatever. Bradford was headed to Cora’s to see Nick and so Phillip’s father asked him to take the boys with him. They were only at Cora’s for a little while. He doesn’t know anything else, who took the picture or who the other child is.” I started to open my mouth. “You can’t ask Jim. He was killed that summer. That’s why I didn’t recognize him.”
“How?”
“A bunch of older boys took him to the Wissahickon creek park. There’s a swimming spot. Devil’s Pool. Cliff. Deep water. No one was watching and he drowned.”
“Let me think. All we know is that something about that picture is important. It’s not Nick. Why burn that one when she had hundreds of others? I don’t think its Phillip. He’s been living out west and is irrelevant. So it’s either Jim, who died that summer. Or the other one.”
“The other one is a toddler. You can only see half of his face. Phillip said a young woman was taking care of him. He only remembers that much because of what happened to Jim that summer.”
“Damn. Of all the luck…”
“Let me take on this part of the mystery. I’ll ask around about the drowning, get more info on Durham, get something on the toddler, see what I come up with?”
I nodded in agreement. Samantha had been listening quietly, drinking her vodka and orange juice, pretending to be mesmerized by the cover of a coffee table book. She knew I’d fill her in later.
* * *
I stretched out on the queen-sized bed and lay on my back, looking at the ceiling.
Samantha lay down next to me. Her legs nearly reached the end of the bed. There was only one pillow so we shared it, the sides of our heads nearly touching. “So, what’s the story with him?”
I knew it was coming. “He’s been very nice to me since I got here. Who knows why? Maybe he feels sorry for me.”
“Don’t think so.” She responded. “He’s not the type to put himself out like this on pity alone.”
“How do you know?” I looked over at her and laughed.
“I know people and I know men even better. He’s curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“About you. So, tell me. What have you two been doing?”
“Nothing, Sam. Talking. That’s all. Oh, and he went out to see the gardener with me.”
“And you think he’s doing this because…”
“I like him. Is that what you want to hear?”
“And?”
“And that if things were a little different I might be interested in him, but…”
“Oh, please don’t say the “N” word. I can’t listen.” She put her hands to her ears.
“What “N” word?”
“Nick. You had to make me say it, didn’t you?” At that moment I rolled my head over a little to look at her and the sides of our faces collided. Dylan chose that moment to open the door. He looked at us for a second, muttered something and then shut the door quickly.
I burst out laughing. “Well, my chances are ruined now. He thinks we’re lesbians.”
“No. He’d like that. All you have to do is wait about five minutes and start moaning really loud, he’ll be in his bedroom jacking…”
“Shut up. Please.” I cut her off. We were laughing so hard I’m sure he could’ve heard us all the way outside the house. Finally I got up.
“I’ll be here around ten in the morning. We’re going to the Historical Society.”
She sat up. “You just ruined the best laugh I’ve had in months.”
“It’ll be fun. I promise.”
I found Dylan outside on his patio. He looked up and smiled. “I wanted to say thank you again. For letting Samantha stay here,” I said. He was looking at my shirt. I looked down. One button had come undone.
“Hey, no problem.”
I buttoned my shirt but he kept looking at me. Maybe Samantha was right. “I was thinking of going to the Historical Society tomorrow. Do you remember if they have a layout of the house or anything like that?”
“What?”
He was distracted and I’m not sure he even heard me. “A layout of the house?” I looked at him and smiled. “Never mind.” I patted his arm and went out through the side gate. I glanced back a little and he was watching me, his head turned to the side with this peculiar smile on his face. I couldn’t help but laugh all the way home.