Here She Lies

chin. He was twisted so he could see her and they were talking intently about something. I was a hundred feet away from them and they didn’t seem to notice me. I crouched down, popped off my lens cap, zoomed in and focused. I was curious to see how they would translate as a camera-captured image free of personal references, though it was a stretch to think I’d be able to look at pictures of those two, alone or together, without nuance. Still, it seemed a worthy experiment, like giving myself a Rorschach to test my first reactions.
    I had taken half a dozen shots before Lexy’s “Dadadadada” drew their attention. Julie waved. Bobby got up and came toward us. Standing, I quickly reviewed the pictures and felt a strange combination of disappointment and relief: there was nothing new for me here. Even in a photograph I could not see Julie as a reduction to physical image — to me, she did not look like me. And the sight of Bobby in any dimension still frizzled with unresolved feelings. The last one, though, showed me a moment that had escaped me while it washappening: as Bobby listened to Julie, an expression of displeasure had crossed his face.
    Bobby pushed the stroller and I walked beside him into the house.
    “What was Julie saying to you just now?” I asked him.
    He shook his head and squeezed half a smile onto his face. From the dark swaths under his eyes I could tell he hadn’t slept well either. “I told her about the computer guy I’ve got coming over and she basically gave me an earful.”
    “Of what?”
    “I’m wasting our money. I’m wasting our time. I should either tell you ‘the truth’ or let you move on. Not that it surprises me that she believes everything you believe. You two really are...” His words trailed off. He had always been appropriately reluctant to voice any strong opinions about me and Julie; after all, no two people as close as twins or couples ever welcomed commentary from outsiders. “I’m hiring the computer guy whether or not she approves. So, my plane’s in three hours; any chance I can bum another ride? Julie offered, but to be honest—”
    “It’s okay. I’ll drive you.” I’d have plenty of time to pack later. I wasn’t planning to leave for New York until evening so I could spend as much time with Lexy as possible. I hated leaving her, even for two days.
    In the end, we all went to the airport. Julie was either eager for any excuse to get out of the house or she was too annoyed with Bobby to let him drive her car, which we all knew he would, given the chance. She drove, I rode shotgun and Bobby sat in the back withLexy. We listened quietly to radio jazz the entire way there.
    At the airport, Julie hung back with the stroller when we reached Bobby’s gate. We hugged and, unable to resist the soft skin behind his ear, I kissed him. He pressed his mouth into my hair. I loved him. But I couldn’t help whispering, “Tell me her name.”
    He sighed and lifted the handle of his rolling suitcase. “I’ll know more tomorrow night. If the guy doesn’t stay too late, I’ll call you. Otherwise I’ll call you Tuesday morning.”
    “It would just help to know.” To know her name. He knew what I meant.
    He chuckled, actually laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Good luck in New York.”
    Leaving Bobby always felt like having my insides vacuumed out. Last time, alone in the Yellow Room, I had allowed myself to mourn, but not here in the airport. I sucked back my feelings of ripped-away loss and went to join Julie, who had pushed the stroller into a little bookstore that greeted you with all the latest magazines and a copious assortment of gum. Before I got all the way there, a familiar voice sailed up from the other side of a stand-alone bookshelf: “Hel-lo! Fancy meeting you here! Did you ever find that wallet?”
    “No, not yet, unfortunately,” Julie answered.
    “Too bad. What a pain. I lost my wallet once and it took months to get everything straightened out.”
    I recognized the voice: it was the woman from Gatsby’s, the clerk who had sold me the matching sweatshirts and to whom I’d spoken on the phoneabout my wallet. Then the voice went high and syrupy. “Not in the mood to match with Mommy today?”
    At first I felt confused, but then I got it. She had greeted Julie, who was wearing her new sweatshirt, and was now speaking directly to Lexy, who was not. And she thought Julie was me. I gave it a minute because it was always fun to see