Ghost writer, p.23
Ghost Writer, page 23
Just as he was about to turn around and go downstairs, Meg appeared in her bedroom doorway. “What are you doing?” Her thin arms were crossed, and she shifted her weight onto one leg.
“What do you mean?” Jonathan smiled.
“You’re peeking in your bedroom. You’re acting all weird.”
“Weird?” Jonathan chuckled and tried to act casual. “I’m not either. Why . . . what are you doing?”
Meg took a few steps out of her bedroom, enough to look into their bedroom and see the bathroom door was closed. She looked up at her dad. “What’s going on? I want to know,” she demanded in a whisper.
“Going on?”
“I’m not stupid, Dad. You and Mom have been acting weird lately. She’s cried practically every night for a month. You’re up here snooping around. And now we have to go to Eleanor’s and miss school next week.”
“It’s only three days of school, and you love Eleanor and Earl.”
“That’s not the point. I want to know what’s happening. You and Mom are getting a divorce, aren’t you?”
“A divorce?” Jonathan said loudly, then steered her directly back into her room. “Where did you get a crazy idea like that?” he said after shutting her door behind them.
“What am I supposed to think? You guys fight all the time, and now we’re being shipped off to Eleanor’s. Come on.”
Jonathan sat next to her on her bed. “Meg, we’re not getting a divorce. I promise. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what?”
Jonathan sighed, wondering how he was going to explain this one. He didn’t have any explanation, and he had hoped that Kathy had come up with some reason they were going to Eleanor’s early. Apparently not. “You know how Eleanor loves to see you. It’s just extra time with her.”
Meg stood and walked to her desk, rearranging her figurines. “Fine, don’t tell me. But I’ll find out. Kids always find out.”
After a moment of silence, Meg turned around. Jonathan felt very old at that moment, as if Meg must be seeing a hunched-over, gray-haired, wrinkly old man. He looked up at the ceiling, wondering what in the world he should tell his oldest daughter. He didn’t want to scare her, but she was right. She would find out. And maybe if she had some information, it would help protect her. He stood, smoothed out the wrinkle he had made on her bed, and stuffed his hands deep within his pockets.
“Okay, Meg.” He stopped and found his nerve again. “Remember when your mom talked to you about not going with strangers?”
Meg frowned and sat down in the chair in front of her desk. “Sure.”
“Well, some things have been happening. Some strange things. Um . . .” He watched her for a moment to see how she was reacting so far. Her eyes were bright with curiosity. “Okay, it’s like this. My work as an editor is wonderful. But sometimes I can make people very mad.”
“Because you don’t like their books.”
“Yes. I have to reject a lot of people’s work and sometimes that makes people mad, because creative people get very attached to what they write. It’s like a child to them. Understand?”
Meg nodded solemnly.
“Well, with that in mind, someone is apparently very upset with your dad. I don’t know who, but they are . . . they are . . .” Jonathan’s tongue felt as if it were swelling right in his mouth. Could he say “threatening” him? That was untruthful. No one had threatened him. But he couldn’t very well tell his daughter that someone was exposing all the dark secrets in his life, could he? She’d want to know more. That would be deadly. What could he say? Time ticked loudly in his ear as Meg fidgeted at his uncanny silence. “What I’m trying to say is that there is evidence that someone might be wanting to harm Daddy—”
“Dad! No!”
Jonathan rushed over to her, and she grabbed onto his waist. “Listen to me, Meg. It’s nothing serious . . . yet. Okay? It’s just that someone has been toying with me. Understand? Trying to play mind games with me. And I just want to make sure you girls are safe. Understand?”
Meg looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “Daddy, what kind of games?”
“It’s not important,” he said, stroking her hair. “But what is important is that you are protected. Nothing is likely to happen. Someone is probably just trying to scare me. Understand? But I don’t want to take any chances.”
“What about you?” she said through sniffles. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Your mom and I are going to stay here and try to figure some things out, okay? So not a word to your sisters, all right? This is just between you and me, Meg. Got it?”
“Got it, got it, Daddy,” she said, flopping onto her bed.
“Okay. I’ve got to go do some things downstairs. Listen and make sure your sisters aren’t getting into trouble.”
“Okay.”
Jonathan opened the door, and just as he was about to shut it, Meg said, “Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Um, I know I’m not supposed to tell Leesol and Sophie, but shouldn’t we tell them not to go with strangers, too?”
Jonathan paused and then stepped back into her room. “What?”
“I’m just saying that we should probably tell them not to go with strangers. Just in case? Right?”
Jonathan walked farther into her room. “Didn’t your mom talk to all three of you at once?”
Meg frowned and sat up on her bed. “Well, Dad, I was, like, four years old, so they weren’t even born yet.”
------
The steam from the bathroom moistened his skin immediately as he opened the door. As it cleared he found Kathy in the midst of a bubble bath, her hair tied on top of her head, her back resting against the end of the tub. She was startled by the door opening so fast and reacted by grabbing for a towel. As soon as she saw Jonathan she asked, “What’s wrong?”
Jonathan tried to calm his nerves and sound rational all at once. The thought of the envelope downstairs was more than enough to send him over the edge, but he had to confront Kathy about why she hadn’t told the girls not to go with strangers. He had asked her about it twice, and once she even responded by saying that she had lied about some kidnapping so they wouldn’t ask questions.
He sat on the edge of the tub and in a firm voice said, “I just talked to Meg. You never told her not to go with strangers, did you?”
Kathy stared wide-eyed at him, as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Well?”
Her lips pressed together and she closed her eyes. “No.”
Jonathan felt himself losing his temper. He stood and almost slipped on the wet floor. As he recovered he said, “Why? Why, Kathy?”
Kathy wiped the steam from her own face and avoided his eyes. “Because . . .”
“Because why?” Jonathan’s nerves felt like they were on fire. “Is it because you know something, Kathy? Huh?!?” He leaned closer to her.
Suddenly, though, Kathy’s eyes intensified, and she met Jonathan’s harsh stare with one that made him blink and back away a little. The muscles in her jaw flinched. “Because all you can talk about is that Clyde is doing this, and quite frankly, Jonathan, I don’t think Clyde would harm the children. I know he wouldn’t.”
Jonathan stood up and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “I have my suspicions about Clyde. But it could be someone else.”
Kathy’s eyes darkened as she stared at her bath water. “I also thought . . . maybe this was all just . . .”
“Just what?”
Kathy met Jonathan’s questioning stare. “I thought you might be . . . having an affair. Are you?”
Jonathan gripped the edge of the sink. The steam in the bathroom suddenly felt suffocating.
“You work late. You’ve been distant. Our relationship is crumbling,” she said, sadness now replacing the rage in her voice.
Jonathan swallowed hard. A part of him wanted to confess everything. Even though he hadn’t had an affair, he knew he had wandered into off-limits territory. Should he tell her? Should he tell her everything?
“No.” He seemed to answer her question and his all at once.
Kathy’s eyes lowered and she stared into her bath water. “Then, to answer your question, the reason I didn’t tell the girls not to go with strangers is because there was a part of me that didn’t believe you. A part of me that thought . . . maybe this was just a way to get us out of here . . . an excuse to be alone.” A silence was followed by Kathy’s eyes meeting Jonathan’s as she said, “You should know, Jonathan, that jealousy can make women do strange things.”
He shook his head, relief bathing him as he realized the issue was over. “Okay, then.” He wiped the moisture from his face. “I told Meg everything. She was beginning to have suspicions anyway.”
“Fine.”
Jonathan smiled slightly, then left Kathy to her bath. But he knew that downstairs, waiting in a plain manila envelope, could be the truth he was unwilling to tell.
------
Downstairs, he took the envelope out from underneath a couch cushion and went to his study, turning on only a reading light. Their bedroom was directly over his study, so he could hear Kathy upstairs, going to the closet in the bathroom, near the armoire. He kept an alert ear as he opened the package and pulled out the pages, of which there were only two.
He listened as water ran in the bath again. She was finishing up. Enough time to read the pages.
Jonathan raced immediately to his office, where he opened the manuscript to find, to his surprise, accurate details of his day-to-day life, not to mention a few secrets he thought he’d covered well. Reading about his life, knowing someone knew everything about him, was more than Jonathan could take. He wondered if someone was watching him at that moment. He yelled, “Are you watching me? Are you?” and then proceeded to pull every book from his office bookshelves onto the floor. He was on quite a roll until his boss, Nellie Benson, opened the door and caught him mid-act. Jonathan fell to the ground and tried to act casual, but Nellie already had her suspicions about Jonathan and this wasn’t helping.
Nellie tried to reason with him, but of course Jonathan attempted to explain it all away. Still, Nellie suggested that maybe Jonathan take a sabbatical, but Jonathan again tried to convince her he was fine. The conversation ended with Jonathan telling Nellie that he had two sure winners for the next editorial meeting.
Jonathan called his wife and asked her to meet him for lunch, telling her he needed to “talk to her about something,” but not “to worry.” Before he could get out the door to lunch, though, Sydney came into his office, shutting the door and—
Kathy’s footsteps left the bedroom and went down the hall toward Sophie’s room. He heard a hall cabinet open and figured she might be putting some towels away or getting toilet paper. His heart raced with every word he read.
—approaching him. She came in to “thank” him for helping her get out of her abusive relationship, Jonathan was nervous, opened a window, and continued to let her talk. Sydney went on about how it was hard for her, being such a strong woman, to imagine that she had let herself get to this place in her relationship with Jeremy. But because Jonathan “cared” so much for her, she had decided to end the relationship with Jeremy once and for all.
Kathy was back in the bedroom, near the armoire, probably still putting some laundry away. Thank goodness. He took out a pen and noted something that, although subtle, seemed very apparent to him. Sarcasm. There was a hint of it, though nothing he could for sure put his finger on. The word “cared” in quotes was the obvious one. It wasn’t anything tangible, but hopefully it would help him find out who was doing this. He thougt for a moment and then wrote Sydney in the margin. The water in the bathroom was running again, and Jonathan continued.
But because the writer had exposed him and Sydney in previous pages, Jonathan had to know if Sydney had talked to anyone. He confronted her about it, but Sydney said she had no idea what he was talking about and acted a little “uncomfortable” at his insinuation that they were having some sort of relationship. After denying she had talked to anyone, she quickly left his office.
Before he even had time to breathe, an author he disliked very much, Francis Flowers, appeared in his office. Jonathan had to tell Francis that his name would have to be changed if his book were published, and Francis was very irate about it. The conversation ended with Francis stomping out the door in a rage.
By now it was time for Jonathan to meet his wife for lunch. They met at the Coffee Bean, one of their old hangouts. Though Jonathan had the urge to try to make the lunch “light and cheerful,” he also had ulterior motives. He told Kathy he wanted her and the girls to go to his aunt Eleanor’s house a few days before Thanksgiving, for their protection from the “writer.” Although Jonathan tried to sound as if it were just a precaution, Kathy knew from his tone that he was very scared. He told her that the writer had been to their house, and now that the writer knew where he lived, he didn’t feel they were safe.
Kathy was astonished and agreed to drive the children to Eleanor’s, though she was adamant about staying home herself. Jonathan objected, but she wouldn’t budge. Jonathan told her he was thinking about getting a gun, but Kathy reminded him that they’d agreed years ago never to have a weapon in the house. He promised her he wouldn’t buy one, and then they left the Coffee Bean.
After running a few errands, Jonathan returned to the office, where he—
Jonathan slammed his hands down onto the desk. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know whether to jump for joy or cry. The writer had left out the fact that he went and got a gun! This was so important! He wrote that note down as fast as he could, his hand trembling with every word. However, his teeth bit into the pencil he was holding as he realized his buying a gun was the one thing he wanted this writer to know! And here it was, missing from his “biography” that seemed to have every other detail of his day listed in less-than-poignant accuracy. Did the writer not know he had bought a gun?
Jonathan pulled his desk drawer out and trembled at the sight of the gun, then pushed the drawer back in and locked it with the key he kept underneath his desk. He stuck the key in his pocket, just in case someone was watching where he took the key from. He would find a hiding place later.
Upstairs was quiet, and Jonathan wondered what Kathy was doing. He knew he would hear her if she came downstairs, so he continued reading.
—decided to go talk to Sydney. Their conversation began with Jonathan apologizing for how he had acted in his office before.
“No . . .” Jonathan said weakly, his hands trembling as he turned the page. “Not this . . .”
Jonathan asked if be could be honest with her, then proceeded to tell her that he had had “some strong feelings. Inappropriate feelings.” He told her, “You’re young and beautiful, and we sort of clicked the first time we met. I never intended to have these feelings for you, but nevertheless, they sort of just appeared. I know this is probably shocking to you.”
Sydney stopped him and told him that she had not been honest with him, and that she had already broken up with Jeremy because she wanted to be in a relationship with him.
All the air left his lungs. Someone had heard this whole conversation with Sydney. Someone heard him tell her he had feelings for her. Jonathan squeezed the back of his neck with his hand to try to relieve the building stress in his muscles. He cautiously read on.
Sydney then told Jonathan that she had a new, better man in her life. Him. Jonathan was horrified to think that Sydney had mentioned his name to her fiancé. He questioned her about it, what exactly she had told him, and she became upset. After Jonathan assured her he was happy that she’d left Jeremy, Sydney said, “I took a big risk breaking up with Jeremy, not knowing for sure if you really wanted to be in a relationship with me. You’ve been coming on to me for weeks, and I think I know you well enough to know it wasn’t for some cheap thrill.”
Jonathan said he never mentioned being in a relationship. He was married, after all.
“Apparently not very happily,” Sydney said and then told him not to stand there and pretend like nothing had happened between them. She reminded him that he had already admitted having feelings for her, and she had feelings for him. She asked what his hesitation was. They were meant to be together. He cared enough to make sure her relationship with Jeremy ended. After all that, is he really going to leave her alone?
Jonathan told her he never meant for it to go this far, and that he simply cared for her and wanted her to get out of a bad relationship. Sydney told him that she loved him and she wanted them to be together. She wanted him to leave his wife and get a divorce. Or if he couldn’t, to know that they could still be together.
Jonathan told her he couldn’t be with her, but when Sydney asked why, he could not answer. Did he no longer love his wife?
The page ended and Jonathan’s eyes filled with tears. The horror of reading this whole thing was more than he could bear. What a horrible mistake he had made with Sydney, but it was the last two sentences that haunted him the most. When Sydney had asked him why he couldn’t leave his wife, what the writer couldn’t possibly know is that he wasn’t silent because he questioned his love for his wife or was having second thoughts about getting divorced. He was silent because he couldn’t explain the innermost conviction that plagued him both then and now.
As Jonathan threw his pencil down and brushed away the stray tears on his cheeks, he couldn’t decide whether or not he found comfort in the fact that the writer couldn’t read his mind. The picture the writer had painted was of a man torn between two women. In reality, his intentions were to set things straight with Sydney and make sure she understood that he did not want to be in a relationship. But when the conversation was played back in the form of a written page, it sounded as if he couldn’t make up his mind.
