“You and Dr. Kenton.”
Jem needed a tall glass of water, with ice. “Why me?”
“Have you told anyone else how you feel about Maribel?”
“I told Maribel. But that’s it,” Jem said.
“Well, then, why me?” Neil asked.
“Because you were there,” Jem said.
“Exactly,” Neil said.
Jem sat quietly for a little while, watching the water lap onto the beach. He turned around; every light in the hotel was off. Tiny had gone home long ago. He tried to picture Neil dead, closed up in a box, buried in a hole in the ground, or burned into ashes. It was impossible. After Neil left the hotel, Jem would never see him again-but that was true of all the guests who stayed at the hotel. Jem knew them for a time, and then they left, and if and when they returned next summer, Jem would be gone. That was the depressing thing about working at a hotel. No one ever stayed. How did Mack and Vance do it year after year, getting to know people and then having them leave, sometimes never to be seen again?
“I think you should marry Desirée,” Jem said. “For your daughter’s sake. Maybe when she finds out you’re…you know, sick, she’ll convert to Judaism.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter,” Neil said. “I’ll know soon enough.”
Soon enough. Jem wondered what kind of time Neil was looking at. Months? Weeks? More tears fell, and Jem let them go.
“You really think I can get Maribel?” Jem asked.
“No,” Neil said. “Yes. I don’t know.”
Jem fell back into the sand; he could go to sleep right there. “I should get home,” he said. He felt bad abandoning Neil, but he had to make it back to his tiny rented room. He had to drink some water. He managed to stand up and Neil stood as well and they looked at each other through the darkness. Then, as though they were meeting for the first time, Neil stuck out his hand, and Jem shook it.
Walking to work the next day, Jem thought, I am alive. He could move his feet, swing his arms, hear the sound of his own voice, Hello. I’m alive. He’d put some Mycitracin and a Band-Aid on his toe, and it throbbed as he walked. I’m alive.
Jem half expected Neil to be gone when he got to the hotel. Or maybe that’s what Jem hoped for-that Neil had disappeared in the night. Jem looked for him at breakfast, but he didn’t show. Then Jem got caught up in his daily duties-stripping the rooms, sweeping up shells in the parking lot, trying to clean the bar sludge from his shoes. He bought two bottles of Gatorade from the soda machine and drank them straight down, thinking it would help his hangover. He ate a bagel with cream cheese left over from breakfast, and then he asked Love, “Has Neil Rosenblum checked out?”
“No,” Love said. She consulted her notebook in that authoritative way she had, as though she were consulting the Bible. “He checks out tomorrow. You should know that, he’s your friend. Did you two have fun last night?”
“Yeah,” Jem said. “We did.”
At noon, Jem knocked on Neil’s door, but there was no answer. Jem scanned the beach: No Neil. Maybe he went to town, or maybe he was still asleep. Jem went back to the front desk.
“Are you sure Neil Rosenblum hasn’t checked out?” he asked Love. “Did the chambermaids clean his room? Did they say his stuff was still there?”
“He’s here,” she said. “I just saw him out in the parking lot.”
Jem hurried through the lobby and peered out the front doors. Sure enough, there was Neil standing between a Mercedes and a Range Rover, talking to a blonde. One of the girls from the Muse. Jem strolled over, and much to his horror realized the blonde was Maribel. Jem hesitated; he wanted to run away, but Maribel saw him and waved. Slowly, Jem approached. Neil could be telling Maribel anything-what did he care if he fiddled with Jem’s relationship? He probably thought that dying gave him license to say or do whatever he pleased.
“Here’s our boy now,” Maribel said. Jem smiled weakly. “Mr. Rosenblum was just telling me how he was going to invest in your business in California. He says he’s never seen anyone with more promise.”
Neil fingered his glasses thoughtfully.
“I can’t believe how lucky everyone is this summer,” Maribel said. “First, Mack gets a job with the Texas Rangers, and now you’re starting your own business in California. Aren’t you excited, Jem?”
Neil pounded Jem on the back. “Of course he’s excited. We’re both excited. This is the kind of guy you run across once in a lifetime.”
Maribel turned pink and nodded emphatically. “I agree.”
“Whoever lands this fellow is lucky. Lucky!” Neil looked at Maribel. “You should have seen the women after him last night at the bars.”
Jem glared at the pavement; he kicked a hermit crab shell into the tire of the Rover. “There weren’t any women after me.”
“I’ll bet there were,” Maribel said. Jem raised his eyes and let himself feast on her for just a few seconds. She was wearing crisp linen pants and a white tank sweater. Her toenails were painted silver; they glinted like chips of mica.
“Did you come from work?” he asked her.
“Actually,” she said, “I came down to see if you wanted to go to lunch.”
“Me?” Jem said. “What about Mack?”
“It’s August,” Maribel said. “He’s busy. Do you want to go?”
“We already have lunch plans,” Neil said. “Two of those women I was talking about are waiting for us in town.”
Jem narrowed his eyes at Neil. Shut up! She’s asking me to lunch!
Maribel’s smiled drooped. “You’re meeting women for lunch?”
“No, we’re not,” Jem said. “At least, I’m not.”
“You are,” Neil said. “These women aren’t interested in me. I’m old enough to be their grandfather. They’re after you, buddy. They’ll be crushed if you don’t come.”
“You’d better go then,” Maribel said. She caught Jem’s eye and he almost melted in a puddle on the pavement. I love you, Maribel! He called out silently. I really love you! Maribel turned to go. “See you later, Jem. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Rosenblum.”
“It was nice meeting you, Maribel,” Neil said. He put his arm around Jem and wheeled him toward the lobby. “I know this hurts, buddy, but it’s for your own good. Did you see how crestfallen she was when she heard you already had a date? I know a jealous woman, and believe me, she was jealous.”
“You’re an ass,” Jem said. “I could be at lunch with Maribel right now.”
“But you’re here with me,” Neil said. “And your time with me is limited. You have the rest of your life to spend with Maribel.”
“And what was that about you investing in my business,” Jem said. “That was a lie.”
“Absolutely,” Neil said. “I was trying to help.”
“Stop trying, please.”
“Do you want to come to my room for a drink?” Neil asked.
Jem plucked his shirt away from his body. “I’m working, as you can see.”
“Come on,” Neil said. “Take a lunch break.”
“I could’ve taken a lunch break with Maribel,” Jem said. “But you ruined it.”
“I hope I’m still alive when it’s time for you to thank me,” Neil said.
That evening, Neil called Desirée and proposed. He did it while Jem sat on the deck, and Jem could hear the happy screams coming all the way from New York City. Neil held the phone away from his ear. “She says yes,” he whispered. Jem couldn’t help but feel sorry for Desirée, for the moment when her joy became shock and horror. It seemed unfair that Jem should know what was in store for her, when she didn’t even know herself.
Jem didn’t have the heart to drink much, and neither did Neil. He smoked his joint. It turned his pain into background music. Without the dope, he said, the pain was like someone banging on the front door with a brick.