The Lesson of Her Death

to him, saying the last words he would ever hear: “Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try your call again.”
    Diane Corde slipped her arms around Ben Breck and hugged him hard.
    This seemed a wholly natural thing to do: standing up in her garden as she watched him pull up in the driveway then walking quickly to him, wrapping her arms around him, feeling his around her.
    Wholly natural. This frightened her terribly. She said, “I left a message for you at the library.”
    “I’ve been over at Arts and Sciences. How’s Jamie?”
    “That’s what I called about. He’s much better. I just got back from the hospital.”
    Diane realized with a shock that they were still embracing. She stepped back quickly.
Oh, God, the neighbors
.…
At least he didn’t kiss me
.… She looked around and stepped into the cover of the juniper bushes. Breck followed.
    And why
didn’t
he kiss me?
    Diane haltingly explained Jamie’s diagnosis by rote, not even hearing the words she’d repeated a dozen times that day.
    As they talked Breck slipped his hands into his pockets. This added to his boyishness and made him infuriatingly appealing. He wore dark jeans and a thick burgundy sweater with a braided collar. He said, “You told me on the phone that Wisconsin’s out.”
    “Surely is. Seems they got that fellow. Got him up in Fitzberg.”
    Relief seemed to flood into his face. “I’m glad you won’t be going.”
    “Agree with you there. Doris’s never outgrown the big sister complex. And it’s hardly fair since she only outranks me by thirteen months.”
    “I have more selfish reasons for being glad you’re not going.” He spoke seductively.
    Diane swallowed. “Say, Ben, I think you and I ought to have a talk.”
    “Somewhere alone.” He smiled. “Private.” A thought seemed to slip spontaneously into his mind. “How about my place?”
    “No,” she whined playfully. “I’m serious.”
    The smile faded. “Are you saying you don’t want to see me?”
    “No,” Diane said quickly. “I’m just saying we have to talk. Before things get … You know. Get too complicated.”
    “Fair enough.”
    Diane tamped on mounds of moist earth at the base of some newly planted zinnias and asked if he wanted something to drink. She had a recurring image—of her pouring coffee or wine into him in the afternoons. Trying to delay his leaving. All these beverages struck her asfunny. She wondered if he ever felt waterlogged on the drive home.
    “No, I just better collect Sarah. I’ve got the video camera reserved for two-thirty.”
    “Honey,” Diane shouted, “Dr. Breck’s here.”
    “’Kay,” came the answering shout.
    Diane asked, “These tests you’re giving Sarah, what are they?”
    “They’re the same as Dr. Parker gave her. I want to correlate short-term results to sessions of study per week. The first draft of my article for the
New England Journal of Child Psychology
is due tomorrow and I wanted to include her revised results on the Bender-Gestalt and Gray’s Oral. The data are also important for me—they’ll give me an idea of where we should go next.”
    Data
are …
Some boys never quit being the show-offs
.
    “You think they’ll upset her?” Diane asked cautiously.
    He shook his head. “I’ll be videotaping her but it’s a hidden camera. She’ll never know she’s being filmed. She’ll do fine.”
    Sarah’s face appeared through the front screen door. “Dr. Breck!”
    “Hello, Sarah. Bring your book with you. If we get a chance, we’ll do some more work.”
    “I’ve got it here.” She slapped her backpack.
    “All of it?”
    “Everything. The new pages from Dr. Parker too.”
    “Good. Let’s get a move on.”
    She ran to the car. He hesitated, his face clouded. Diane noticed it. “Something wrong?”
    His eyes were distant. He didn’t seem to hear her and she repeated the question, touching his arm gently. He blinked and said, “I was thinking about Jamie.”
    “No, no. He’s going to be fine. He is.”
    Breck’s smile returned but Diane saw a glint of something in his eyes—regret or pining, she believed. Sheconsidered this. Perhaps what she saw was a childless man approaching middle age, which was one of the saddest things she could imagine. She wanted to wrap her arms around him. She muscled up restraint and laughed. “That boy’s going to be just fine. He’s a tough one.”
    “I must stop by and visit him sometime. I’ll bring him a present.