Invasion of Privacy

lay in bed, cuddling front to front, the door closed to keep Renfield out until we were ready to fall asleep. Nancy’s right side was toward the ceiling, and I stroked it slowly from shoulder to hip with the tip of my left index finger. i
    In a purry voice, she said, “That should tickle, but it doesn’t.” |
    “Only because I’m going slowly. If I speed up—”
    “John, don’t.”
    “—or use the fingernail—”
    “Please.”
    “Okay.”
    “It’s just so nice like this,” she said.
    “I’m glad we both think so.”
    The purry voice. “Being with you is like being with nobody else.”
    I stopped the stroking. “Kind of an odd way to phrase it, don’t you think?”
    A giggle muffled by the pillow. “You know what I mean.”
    Starting over at the right shoulder, I said, “I hope so.” Nancy shifted a little, causing my hand to stray onto the base of her breast. I stopped again but this time sat up. “John, what’s the matter?”
    “Hold still a minute.”
    “What are you doing?”
    I touched and pushed and probed.
    “John?”
    “Nance, I feel something here.”
    “Something?”
    “I don’t... it’s like a small lump.”
    “Oh, that’s nothing.”
    “ Nancy , it’s the size of a cherry pit.”
    “Sebaceous cyst.”
    “A what?”
    “It’s just a cyst from the oil in my skin. My mom had them all the time, and I’ve had a few already.”
    “I’ve never seen one on you. Or felt it before.”
    “That’s because the last time was years ago. They form pretty quickly, and you can either have them cut out or just leave them.”
    “Leave them?”
    “Yes. They usually kind of wax and wane on their own.” I stayed sitting up, images of Beth flooding into me. The hospital room’s mechanical bed and tiled walls, the smell of disinfectant, the sound of hushed voices. And too many tubes connected at too many places, her head on a pillow, the white turban wrapped in an unbalanced way around where her hair used to—
    Nancy said, “John, what’s the matter?”
    I let out the breath I was holding. “It just took me back.”
    “What did?”
    “Finding something like that lump.”
    “How would... oh.” Nancy drew herself up to her knees, her arms around my neck again, but differently than in the kitchen. “Oh, I’m sorry. This reminds you of Beth.”
    “Yes.”
    “John, believe me. The lump is nothing. I—”
    “You’ve had it looked at?”
    “Like I said, the doctors have always—”
    “This particular one?”
    A pause. “No.”
    I searched for the right words. “ Nancy , I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but I’m not completely rational on this, and I really wish you’d go to the doctor.”
    “Soon as I can.”
    “Name the day, Nance.”
    “I’ll call you.”
    “Now.”
    She broke off the embrace. “John, I told you outside office, I have an attempted murder—”
    “ Nancy , that’s your job. This is your life. Not to mention mine, if I’m lucky.”
    A quieter voice. “And ours, if I’m lucky too.” Another pause. “I’ll call her tomorrow before court.”
    “Thank you.”
    We hugged and kissed. Rolled over and stayed still. But I don’t think either of us got much sleep.

3

    T he next morning, I woke up when Renfield licked my eyelids open. Nancy wasn’t next to me in her bed. I felt the sheets where she’d been lying. Cold.
    Swinging my legs to the floor, I stood with that dull fatigue that comes from getting only half as much rest as you need. I used the bathroom, then went into the kitchen. There was a handwritten note propped up against the sugar bowl.

    John,
    I didn’t have the heart to wake you this morning when I knew you hadn’t slept well. Thanks for pushing me last night. I’ll call my doctor today.
    Love,
    Nancy

    Today. Not “before court,” as she’d promised.
    Crumpling the note and pitching it into the wastebasket, I went to see if I had some clean clothes in her dresser.

    I didn’t. Have any clean clothes at Nancy’s, I mean.
    After riding the bus to South Station, I took the Red Line to Park Street Under. I seemed rank enough to myself that instead of walking to the office across Tremont, I turned west and moved through the brisk morning air toward Back Bay . It being a Wednesday, most of the people with real jobs were already at them. While the Common therefore wasn’t crowded, the grass wasn’t empty, either.
    The nice fall weather brought out the decrepit homeless, the crazy homeless, and the