“Ohhh, those are my fave! Good choice. Can I have a name for the order and the address?”
I can see the gears turning in Maris’ mind. She’s going over what happened today. The stabbing. The blood. How she saw it with her own eyes, that maybe she’s misunderstood and if only she tries hard enough she can make sense of today, make it fit into place, like a puzzle piece that she can rearrange.
“Vesper House,” I say because I know they’ll know it. Everyone knows Maris, and besides, this house has a plaque which is one less than the number of stop lights Vesper Point boasts.
The other end of the line goes silent and there’s a nervous laugh. “But you’re not Maris.”
That’s not bad. I was wondering what the reaction would be when I gave her address for the delivery. I’ll take them being nosy.
“You’re right. I’m not.”
There’s another pause and the sound of them putting their hand over the phone to muffle it but it’s easy to hear what they’re saying with my hearing.
“There’s a man at Maris’ house….no, it’s not Billy!”
Billy. I squeeze my phone so tight that I feel it start to bend in my hand. I’m going to do more than scare Billy if he dares set foot on Maris’ property.
“The doctor?! Get out.”
That’s more fucking like it. Yes, the doctor. Between me getting stabbed and this delivery drama, the entire town better know that I’m Maris’ or I’m going to be fucking livid.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I ask.
“Oh! Um, s-sorry. Yeah, we can have the order that way. Just give us ten.”
“That’s perfect. How much is it?”
“Thirty even.”
“Great. Thank you. Goodbye,” I start to hang up the phone but stop when I hear the worker blurt out.
“You’re the doctor, right? The new one at the hospital?”
I think about hanging up the phone so I can be alone with Maris and get to work ripping the bandaid off of explaining to her what I am and what we are, and most importantly, who she is to me. I don’t, though. I hit the speaker button instead and set the phone on the table between us.
I cross my arms and lean back in my chair while Maris looks between me and the phone in confusion. “Yes, I am the new doctor in town. I’m Doctor Julian Vale. Pleased to meet you.” Realization dawns on her beautiful face when she realizes what they asked me.
There’s another hushed giggle before they answer. “So, are you two dating then?”
Maris’ eyes go wide and she lunges forward to grab the phone but I’m faster than her. Much, much faster than her. I’m already standing by the time she gets anywhere near the phone. It’s an easy enough task to catch her hands before she grabs the phone. Maris pulls, trying to get free, a futile effort, but I don’t tell herthat. My wife is a murderess after all, that would just make her fight harder.
I slide my fingers between hers and hold her hands while I answer. “Yes, we are.”
“Julian!” Maris yelps.
“I told you so!” Someone laughs before I drop one of her hands and end the call.
“Why did you say that?” Maris whispers. I’m still holding her hand and I give it a squeeze while she looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head.
“Because we are,” I tell her.
Maris shakes her head. “Julian, I don’t understand what’s going on. I like you, you know I do and after today with the knife…no one’s ever done something like that for me but we’re not dating. I don’t even know you.”
I sigh. Humans get hung on the order of things. The need for formalities and ‘what are we’ talks ad nauseum, I’ve seen it throughout my life. People will be on their death beds trying to clarify the parameters and boundaries of their intimate relationships. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re so fragile, so human, that they want to control some aspect of their lives. When death can sweep you away so easily, the comfort of having order somewhere in your life must be a necessity.
I wouldn’t know. I’ve been dead for far too long to remember what that feels like…although, with finding Maris I think I’m as close to understanding urgency as I’ve ever been.
“We just met, Julian. You don’t even know me.” Maris moves to the side like she’s going to try and find a way around me. I kick the side of her chair, sending her a foot out from the table and drop to my knees in front of her. I’m not holding her hand anymore. I reach forward and put my hands on either side of her seat and pull her into me. Her knees push up against my chest.It’s only when she’s where I want here that I lean back to look up at her do I speak.
