A Certain Appeal by Vanessa King

Author:Vanessa King [King, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

16

I keep track of Jane’s viewing habits on our various streaming accounts from my work computer. In the days that follow Charles’s text, he mainlines Werner Herzog’s entire catalog before consuming the David Attenborough–narrated version of Planet Earth. I let that go without comment. When he starts re-viewing the same program with Sigourney Weaver’s voice-over, however, I threaten to change all our passwords and recruit Ming to take him out for coffee.

Over the weekend, I learn more than I’d like about the use of bovine bile to control the spread of coral-eating starfish, but I’m cautiously optimistic. He performs at Meryton and, on Sunday, tears himself away from the Discovery Channel to help research a few ramen places for next week’s visit from my cousin. By the time Monday rolls around, Jane’s entertainment selections still favor the informative variety, but he’s getting out of the apartment for more than just work, has come climbing with me twice, and ventures up to Manhattan to join Ming and me for lunch on Wednesday.

“I’ll forget him,” Jane announces, placing his napkin beside his plate. “Everything will go back to the way it was before.”

I say nothing, but I’m helpless against the incredulous look that draws across my face.

“You doubt me,” he says tightly. “Don’t. I may think of him as the most pleasant man I’ve ever met, but that’s all. I’m not going to be bitter about it. With a little time . . .”

His voice becomes strained, and he nudges at his side salad with his fork. Ming kicks me under the table. Jane clears his throat, sitting straighter in his chair. “At least I know it was an error of fancy on my side, and it has done no harm to anyone other than myself.”

“Really?” I say. “Because the only thing that’s keeping me from wanting to throttle him is the prospect that he’s miserable, too.” Ming raises her glass in solidarity.

Jane purses his lips. “It’s not as though he meant to hurt me.”

I scowl. Usually, Jane’s insistence on universal goodwill is endearing. On this occasion, I cannot abide it. “He may not have meant to hurt you, but he still did. I’m holding it against him.”

Jane’s neutral expression wavers, and I hate myself for letting my pettiness show, even if it’s in his defense.

I settle into my seat with an overwrought huff. “And I’m going to end up saying something shitty about him and then you’ll be offended that I’ve spoken ill of someone you’re determined not to hate because you’re a goddamn angel and none of us deserve you, so you should probably tell me to shut up while you can.”

Ming chuckles. Jane smiles, and it’s the first real smile I’ve seen from him since last Tuesday.

“I love you,” he reminds me. I blow him a kiss.

Jane is teaching a piano lesson in Chelsea after lunch, and we part ways outside the restaurant. Ming links arms with me as we watch Jane’s retreating form. He’s walking tall, but his stride has none of its usual pep.

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