Jeffery Deaver: Speaking In Tongues

“And hope to die?” she joked.

He smiled.

She said, “No.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, I was just drinking a little Southern Comfort. All right, maybe more than a little.”

“ Joplin ’s drink,” he said. “Too fucking sweet for me.”

Whoa, the F-word. Cool. She was almost-almost-beginning to like him.

He glanced again at her hair-the fringes on her face. Then back to her eyes. It was like one of Josh’s caresses. Somewhere within her she felt a tiny ping-of reassurance and pleasure.

Megan continued her story. “And somebody I was with said no way they’d climb up to the top and I said I would and I did. That’s it. Like a dare is all.”

“All right, so you got nabbed by the cops on some bullshit charge.”

“That’s about it.”

“Not exactly the crime of the century.”

“I didn’t think so either. But they were so… you know.”

“I know” he said. “Now tell me about yourself. Your secret history.”

“Well, my parents are divorced. I live with Bett. She has this business? It’s really a decorating business but she says she’s an interior designer ‘cause it sounds better. Tate’s got this farm in Prince William. He used to be this famous lawyer but now he just does people’s wills and sells houses and stuff. He hires people to run the farm for him. Sharecroppers. Sound like slaves, or whatever, but they’re just people he hires.”

“And your relationship with the folks? Is the porridge too hot, too cold or just right?”

“Just right.”

He nodded, made a small notation on his pad though he might’ve been just doodling. Maybe she bored him. Maybe he was writing a grocery list.

Things to buy after my appointment with Crazy Megan.

She told him about growing up, about the deaths of her mother’s parents and her father’s dad. The only other relative she’d been close to was her aunt Susan-her mother’s twin sister. “She’s a nice lady but she’s had a rough time. She’s been sick all her life. And she really, really wanted kids but couldn’t have them.”

“Ah,” he said.

None of it felt important to her and she guessed it was even less important to him.

“What about friends?”

Count ‘em on one hand, Crazy Megan says.

Shhhh.

“I hang with the goth crowd mostly,” she told the doctor.

“As in ‘gothic’?”

“Yeah. Only She decided she could tell him the truth. “What it is is I kinda stay by myself a lot. I meet people but I end up figuring, why bother? There’re a lot of losers out there.”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed. “That’s why my business is so good.”

She blinked in surprise. Then smiled too.

“What’s the boyfriend situation?”

“This won’t take much time,” she said, laughing ruefully. “I was going with this guy? Joshua? And he was, like, all right. Only he was older. And he was black. I mean, he wasn’t a gangsta or anything. His father’s a soldier, like an officer in the Pentagon, and his mother’s some big executive. I didn’t have a problem with the race thing. But Dr. Hanson said I was probably involved with him just to make my parents nuts.”

“Were you?”

“I don’t know. I kinda liked him. No, I did like him.”

“But you broke up?”

“Sure. Dr. Hanson said I ought to dump him.”

“He said that?”

“Well, not exactly. But I got that impression.”

Crazy Megan thinks that Mr. Handsome Shrink, Mr. George Clooney stud, ought to’ve figured it out: How can a psycho nutcase like me go out with anybody? If I hadn’t dumped Josh-which I cried about for two weeks-if I hadn’t left, then everybody at his school would be on his case. “He’s the one with the loony girl. “And then his folks would find out -they’re the nicest people in the universe and totally in love-and they’d be crushed. .. Well, of course I had to leave…

“Nobody else on the horizon?” he asked.

“Nope.” She shook her head.

“Okay, let’s talk about the family some more. Your mother.”

“Bett and I get along great.” She hesitated. “Only it’s funny about her-she’s into her business but she also believes in all this New Age stuff crap. I’m, like, just chill, okay? That stuff is so bogus. But she doesn’t hassle me about it. Doesn’t hassle me about anything really. It’s great between us. Really great. The only problem is she’s engaged to a geek.”

“Do you two talk, your mom and you? Chew the fat, as my grandmother used to say?”

“Sure… I mean, she’s busy a lot. But who isn’t, right? Yeah, we talk.” She hoped he didn’t ask her about what. She’d have to make up something.

“And how ‘bout Dad?”

She shrugged. “He’s nice. He takes me to concerts, shopping. We get along great.”

“Great?”

C.M.-Crazy Megan-chides, Is that the only word you know, bitch? Great, great, great… You sound like a parrot.

“Yeah,” Megan said. “Only..

“Only what?”

“Well, it’s like we don’t have a lot to talk about. He wants me to go windsurfing with him but I went once and it’s a totally superficial way to spend your time. I’d rather read a book or something.”

“You like to read?”

“Yeah, I read a lot.”

“Who’re some of your favorite authors?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Her mind went blank.

Crazy Megan isn’t much help. Yep, he’s gonna think you’re damaged.

Quiet! Megan ordered her alter ego. She remembered the last book she’d read. “You know Márquez? I’m reading Autumn of the Patriarch.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Oh, I loved it.”

“No kidding. I-”

Dr. Peters added, “Love in the Time of Cholera. Best love story ever written. I’ve read it three times.”

Another ecstatic ping. The book was actually sitting on her bedside table. “Me too. Well, I only read it once.”

“Tell me more,” he continued, “about your father.”

“Urn, he’s pretty handsome still-I mean for a guy in his forties. And he’s in pretty good shape. He dates a lot but he can’t seem to settle down with anybody. He says he wants a family.”

“Does he?”

“Yeah. But if he does then why does he date girls named Bambi?… Just kidding. But they look like they’re Bambis.” They both laughed.

“Tell me about the divorce.”

“I don’t really remember them together. They split up when I was three.”

“Why?”

“They got married too young. That’s what Bett says. They kind of went different ways. Mom was, like, real flighty and into that New Age stuff I was telling you about. And Dad was just the opposite.”

“Whose idea was the divorce?”

“I think my dad’s.”

He jotted another note then looked up. “So how mad are you at your parents?”

“I’m not.”

“Really?” he asked, as if he were completely surprised. “You’re sure the porridge isn’t too hot?”

“I love ‘em. They love me. We get along gre-fine. The porridge is just right. What the fuck is porridge anyway?”

“Don’t have a clue,” Peters said quickly. “Give me an early memory about your mother.”

“What?”

“Quick! Now! Do it!” His eyes flashed.

Megan felt a wave of heat crinkle through her face. “I-”

“Don’t hesitate,” he whispered. “Say what’s on your mind!”

She blurted, “Bett’s getting ready for a date, putting on makeup, staring in a mirror and poking at a wrinkle, like she’s hoping it’ll go away. She always does that. Like her face is the most important thing in the world to her. Her looks, you know.”