know what you’re talking about,” she said, taken aback. “You’ve got it wrong.”
Cooper suddenly realized that he knew absolutely nothing about her. Was she even single? Had he jumped too quickly to conclusions?
“You’re wrong,” she repeated. “It’s not what you think.”
“Then why?”
“My reasons are the same as yours,” she said. “I’m curious about Parrish. That’s all.” They seemed to be going around in circles.
“He could have joined another club,” Beth persisted.
“His prerogative,” Cooper shrugged. The hell with Parrish , he thought.
“Ours is not the most modern club in the world,” she said. “But it serves our purposes and it’s a lot less crowded.”
“Part of its charm, I guess,” Cooper said.
“Did he say he wanted to join another club?” she asked.
“I don’t want to give you the impression that he confided in me,” Cooper said.
“Was he married?”
“I don’t think so.”
Beth raised her eyes again, inspecting him, boring in.
“Are you?”
“Christ, Beth!”
“No significant other?” the woman asked. “There I go. Miss Curiosity.”
“The answer is no,” he croaked angrily, upending his coffee cup. “I’m divorced.”
“There. We have something in common. Except that I’m a widow.”
She seemed to warm to the similarity, and he was immediately sorry he had blurted out the information.
“No kids?” she asked.
“No.”
“Me neither.”
He stood up.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can see that you’re upset.”
“Can you also see that I’m not interested in your curiosity or your company?” He tried to control his rising anger. “I would really appreciate being left alone.”
He started to leave the room.
“Jack!” she called. He turned. “You think he’ll turn up?” Beth asked.
“You’ve got Parrish on the brain,” Cooper said.
“You do too.”
He glanced at her for a moment, just enough to see in her eyes something he had not seen before: pain.
7
7
Walking back to his apartment, Cooper was still troubled by Beth’s interest in Parrish. Not that he could totally understand his own fixation. He was back in limbo, in a mental state not unlike that which had plagued him months before. He felt adrift, bobbing helplessly in violent crosscurrents. His judgment, along with his memory, was becoming impaired. The rigid path he had set for himself, the compulsive orderliness and sameness had been severely compromised.
Crossing Wisconsin Avenue, he was so self-absorbed that he walked right in front of a moving car. The driver slammed on his brakes, and the screeching tires shocked Cooper into an awareness of where he was. He felt embarrassed and looked around him to see who had been watching. It was purely a reflex action, a measure of his defensiveness.
But when he continued to cross the street, he realized that he had seen a vaguely familiar face. He had seen it only in profile under a black knitted hat. Then it had disappeared behind a group of advancing pedestrians. Since he had begun to search for Parrish, such vaguely familiar faces had seemed to crop up.
He decided that it was time to take drastic steps. His first imperative was to rid his mind of Parrish, to end this disturbing chain of events—and with that, Beth would also have little relevance. If necessary, he would quit Bethesda, work out elsewhere. It was time to take control of his life again.
In the lobby of his apartment building, he opened his mailbox. Rarely did anything important come in the mail, only bills and an extraordinary amount of junk mail. Some of it was addressed to “Occupant,” some was addressed to Jack Cooper. All of it was worthless, and he placed it immediately into the garbage.
He let himself into his apartment and stood for a moment in the doorway inspecting its interior. His eyes made a searching three hundred and sixty degree sweep. There was The Magic Mountain , where he had left it at the top of the stack marked
Cooper suddenly realized that he knew absolutely nothing about her. Was she even single? Had he jumped too quickly to conclusions?
“You’re wrong,” she repeated. “It’s not what you think.”
“Then why?”
“My reasons are the same as yours,” she said. “I’m curious about Parrish. That’s all.” They seemed to be going around in circles.
“He could have joined another club,” Beth persisted.
“His prerogative,” Cooper shrugged. The hell with Parrish , he thought.
“Ours is not the most modern club in the world,” she said. “But it serves our purposes and it’s a lot less crowded.”
“Part of its charm, I guess,” Cooper said.
“Did he say he wanted to join another club?” she asked.
“I don’t want to give you the impression that he confided in me,” Cooper said.
“Was he married?”
“I don’t think so.”
Beth raised her eyes again, inspecting him, boring in.
“Are you?”
“Christ, Beth!”
“No significant other?” the woman asked. “There I go. Miss Curiosity.”
“The answer is no,” he croaked angrily, upending his coffee cup. “I’m divorced.”
“There. We have something in common. Except that I’m a widow.”
She seemed to warm to the similarity, and he was immediately sorry he had blurted out the information.
“No kids?” she asked.
“No.”
“Me neither.”
He stood up.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can see that you’re upset.”
“Can you also see that I’m not interested in your curiosity or your company?” He tried to control his rising anger. “I would really appreciate being left alone.”
He started to leave the room.
“Jack!” she called. He turned. “You think he’ll turn up?” Beth asked.
“You’ve got Parrish on the brain,” Cooper said.
“You do too.”
He glanced at her for a moment, just enough to see in her eyes something he had not seen before: pain.
7
7
Walking back to his apartment, Cooper was still troubled by Beth’s interest in Parrish. Not that he could totally understand his own fixation. He was back in limbo, in a mental state not unlike that which had plagued him months before. He felt adrift, bobbing helplessly in violent crosscurrents. His judgment, along with his memory, was becoming impaired. The rigid path he had set for himself, the compulsive orderliness and sameness had been severely compromised.
Crossing Wisconsin Avenue, he was so self-absorbed that he walked right in front of a moving car. The driver slammed on his brakes, and the screeching tires shocked Cooper into an awareness of where he was. He felt embarrassed and looked around him to see who had been watching. It was purely a reflex action, a measure of his defensiveness.
But when he continued to cross the street, he realized that he had seen a vaguely familiar face. He had seen it only in profile under a black knitted hat. Then it had disappeared behind a group of advancing pedestrians. Since he had begun to search for Parrish, such vaguely familiar faces had seemed to crop up.
He decided that it was time to take drastic steps. His first imperative was to rid his mind of Parrish, to end this disturbing chain of events—and with that, Beth would also have little relevance. If necessary, he would quit Bethesda, work out elsewhere. It was time to take control of his life again.
In the lobby of his apartment building, he opened his mailbox. Rarely did anything important come in the mail, only bills and an extraordinary amount of junk mail. Some of it was addressed to “Occupant,” some was addressed to Jack Cooper. All of it was worthless, and he placed it immediately into the garbage.
He let himself into his apartment and stood for a moment in the doorway inspecting its interior. His eyes made a searching three hundred and sixty degree sweep. There was The Magic Mountain , where he had left it at the top of the stack marked
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