A crew member tried to get people to do a coordinated dance on a nearby deck, the Macarena, the refuge of the rhythmless and their children. Parents bobbed in time with the music as their toddlers waddled along. Maybe Claire was right—this wouldn’t be such a bad tradition to have.
Asher returned with a blended drink in hand, and I eyed its unmanly pinkness. My boyfriend usually drank Manhattans. “It’s tropical,” he informed me, offering me a sip. I snorted and demurred.
A child broke from the pack of dancers and ran toward us, followed by a tiny brunette woman.
“Thomas? Thomas!” She raced after him. Luckily, she was already wearing a pink velour jogging suit. “Thomas, get back here!”
It was the sort of thing that had always made me question having children in the past—even though I’d nursed enough kids to know they were unpredictable. But I found myself grinning at the thought of racing after one of my own. There wouldn’t be much racing, because mine would be better behaved, of course—then I realized that probably all expectant parents lied to themselves about that sort of thing.
A man followed the woman at a distance. Wind struck up, stronger now as the sun was down—but I knew I’d heard Asher’s sharp inhale of surprise at seeing the other man.
“That’s him,” he whispered, then handed me his drink before moving quickly to intercept the racing child. “Whoa! Hey there, kiddo!”
The man approaching was him, him? Evil personified?
It was hard to be scared of him when seeing Asher hold his kid made me queasy inside, in a good way.
“Hey, hey—” Asher repeated, like he was soothing a dog, as the kid fought and squirmed. The woman caught up, swooping her child up into her arms, and smiled sheepishly at us.
“Thank you so much!” she said, making a Q of the you. “He’s so fast, he gets into a lot of trouble.”
“It’s no mind,” Asher said, his accent a subtle imitation of hers that he hadn’t had a second ago. I’d seen him do it before at the clinic. I didn’t know if he did it on purpose or if the strange just came to him without thinking, but it put people’s minds at ease. Who better to be your doctor than someone from your hometown? It wasn’t even entirely a lie. He’d touched someone from nearly everywhere, and held a set of their memories inside himself. He only needed to hold up a tag like a dry cleaner’s employee and wait for the appropriate past to slide itself forward for him to wear.
The man from Asher’s past, presumably her husband, caught up as well. He was more frightening the closer he got. It wasn’t his sharp nose or his prominent widow’s peak, going gray at both temples. It was the way he took in all of us, emanating an air of disgust at the entire situation. Seeing him be cold to his own overwhelmed wife, child, and randomly helpful strangers made Asher’s story all the more believable. While the Consortium might have censured him somehow, they hadn’t taught him any lessons.
“Thank you,” he said, as if it was a complaint, and he was accent-less. Asher gave him an ignorant smile, but it was hard for me not to stare. Testing fake blood on humans—who knew how many deaths this man had caused?
“Oh, no problem. We’re trying to have one ourselves,” Asher went on, lying completely, his accent still on. Ironic, seeing as he didn’t know my period was late. “Hoping this romantic sea air will help things out, you know?” Asher overshared, as I began to want to die. “I’m Kevin—” Asher went on, leaning forward with his hand out. The woman shook it first.
“I’m Liz—and this is Nathaniel,” she said.
“Nathaniel Tannin.” Nathaniel introduced himself more formally, with no clue that Asher already knew him. I felt fractionally relieved, but not much.
As Asher took his hand, Nathaniel looked a little pained by the common touch. Like he thought someone who looked like Asher did currently, and who, farmer-like, talked about impregnation at the drop of a hat, might also have barbecue sauce or semen stains hidden on his palm.
When Asher didn’t let his hand go, Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed.
“And I’m Edie.” I introduced myself with my actual name, because I’d never manage to keep a fake one straight, and so I could stop Asher from somehow giving himself away. “What’s his name?” I asked Liz despite the fact that I’d heard her shouting it after him, even over the increasingly obnoxious music.
“Thomas. The third,” she answered, and her eyes darted to Asher-Kevin, who’d just finally let go of her husband’s hand. Nathaniel not-so-discreetly wiped his hand on his leg.
“I have an uncle named Thomas!” I said. Asher turned to blink at me.
You’re not the only one who can lie, I tried to say with a well-timed squint. “You remember him, right, Kevin?” I smiled at the woman. “He’s my favorite uncle, he’s just a lovely man. I’m sure your son will be lovely too.”
“Awww, I’m sure. Thank you. Again.” Liz hefted her son up, still squirming, and gave us another shy smile as Nathaniel took her by the elbow and guided her away.
“What was that about?” Asher asked me as soon as they were out of earshot.
“I don’t know. You tell me,” I said.
I expected him to have some witty retort or explanation. When he didn’t, my eyes followed his gaze; he was still watching Nathaniel blend in with the crowd.
My stomach sank, just as the sun had, and everything came into focus. “You didn’t try to read him, did you?”
Asher nodded quietly, and when I stared at him aghast he shrugged one shoulder. “It didn’t work.”
I was stunned.
We didn’t get rules when Santa Muerte stopped Asher from going insane. There were no guarantees on her services, no promises that he couldn’t fuck things up by trying to be what he once was. Asher had never pushed things before—there’d been no need, we’d been living happily, normally. That he’d do it now, and risk himself, over a ghost from his past? It was unthinkable. I’d almost lost him once before. I wouldn’t watch him do it again.
“And what if it had?” I pressed.
“Then I’d know why he was here. And what he was up to.”
I pointed back the way they’d come. “He’s on a vacation with his family. Like you told me we were on. Remember?”
“He has a daughter who’s your age. There’s no way that’s his wife, or his child.” Asher shook his head, denying what we’d seen.
“Oh, so he’d be the first man ever to marry his secretary?”
He frowned. “I know he had a vasectomy—”
“So? Those can be reversed. Or he could be a stepdad. Or that kid could be adopted.” I was sputtering now. “I can’t believe you were willing to throw everything away—”
I could see on his face that he wasn’t going to apologize, he was going to try to explain. “Edie,” he began, his voice low. “It didn’t work.”
“What if it had? Or—what if it hadn’t, but you’d broken yourself again? Over nothing?”
“It didn’t work!” he protested.
“We’re a family now! You can’t go abandoning us like that!” People were staring and I didn’t care.
“And you don’t know him like I do!” Asher shouted back. “Edie, I didn’t abandon you—”
“I know that he’s here with his family,” I said. “And you need to act like you’re here with yours.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The sun was gone now, and the night was becoming as cold as the untouched drink I still held in one hand. I handed it back to him. I was sure we looked like that couple, the ones who tied one on at the airport lounge, and on the shuttle, and in their rooms, and again on the deck. Whatever.
“I’m going back to the room,” I said.
“Fine.”
There wasn’t anything left after that but to huff off. Of course we were on a boat, so I couldn’t really go anywhere, but I didn’t want to be around him for at least a little bit. And he knew me well enough to know that he shouldn’t chase me—I only left when I really did want to be alone.
I found my room key in my pocket, and used both of the hand sanitizer stations I passed by on my way to the elevators, like I could somehow wash his betrayal off me.
The room still smelled a little like sex when I got there. I wondered bleakly if Claire and Hal had heard anything earlier, or if they’d hear anything again on this whole godforsaken trip. I still needed to take a shower. Now was my chance.
How dare he try to throw everything away? It might be one thing, under controlled circumstances, to test it out. Safely. Back home. Just to see. But to do it on a boat, here, in a rush, without even warning me? What if he’d broken himself again somehow and died, and left me to raise our child alone?
I shuddered in fear and rage, then shed my clothes before going into the bathroom with the shower. The tub-shower and the toilet were in two separate rooms inside our cabin, like in an old Victorian home. I stepped inside the shower and turned on the water, then held on as the boat took an alarming turn. Between the small size of the tub, the slipperiness of the water, and the motion of the boat, I wondered how many elderly guests broke hips on board. I was careful to brace myself against the wall. If I hurt myself in here while I was hate-showering, I’d never hear the end of it from him.
By the time I was done washing my hair, I heard the outside door open and shut. I finished my shower, trying to think of everything I was going to say, but the second I stepped out with a towel wrapped around my chest, he spoke first.
“What’s with all this ‘family’ stuff?”
“Like you care” came out of my mouth in an instant, and Asher looked snakebit. I wished I could take it back so hard I said so. “I’m sorry.” I heaved an apologetic sigh. “I didn’t mean that.”
Asher still looked hurt. “Edie, of course I care.”