Left in the Dark by Zev de Valera

Author:Zev de Valera [Valera, Zev de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NineStar Press
Published: 2021-03-21T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

While Joshua’s early arrival was a welcome surprise, his larger-than-life presence often irritated me as much as his love and support warmed me. Recalling what Duguay had told me about Malhotra’s proposal to Joshua that he stay with me for a few weeks during my recovery—and his subsequent refusal—I began to wonder if this fussy, mother hen behavior of his wasn’t some sort of do over, a balm to his conscience.

Or was it his way of putting a wedge between me and Duguay?

Intentional or not, Joshua’s company put a damper on the closeness I believed was developing between Duguay and me.

Duguay’s visits on the following Monday and Tuesday lacked any of their earlier charm. He was pleasant, professional, and distant. The subject of our proposed fish and chip lunch was never broached. Joshua left Duguay and me to our own devices during our sessions, but his presence was still felt keenly in his absence. It was one of his gifts as an actor to always be present in a scene even when his character was offstage. It made me nervous and jumpy for no good reason and more sensitive to my semi-invalid state. I felt like Blanche Hudson in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane. I could just hear Joshua’s voice:

But ya’are in a wheelchair, aren’t ya Blanche?

I laughed aloud at my flight of fancy—as much at the ridiculousness of the idea as at the vision of Joshua costumed as Jane, shuffling around my house plotting and scheming, ordering large quantities of alcohol from the local liquor store (he did do that, actually), and serving me dead rats on a silver tray.

“Whatever is the matter with you?” asked Joshua, taking the three-pound package of fresh rabbit meat from the counter man and placing it in our shopping cart. “One minute you’re scowling and snitty, the next you’re giggling like the village idiot.”

We were at Balducci’s, shopping for my big dinner the following evening. Physically, I was feeling good, stronger—thanks to Duguay’s deceptively simple regimen of walking, yoga, and free weights. I rarely stooped, tripped infrequently, and relied less and less on the cane for balance. My body was recovering. But I had doubts about my mind. My nights were plagued with bizarre dreams and my days with self-doubt about my relationships with Paul, Eric, and even Joshua. About my life, in general. I understood that nothing would be the same as before, but I had difficulty getting a grip on the possibilities of the future. Too many things about the past were unclear. As much as I wanted to embrace Joshua’s advice and simply let go and move on, I found that nothing was simple, and moving on emotionally was much more complex than getting my body back into shape.

“Predinner party jitters,” I said evasively. It didn’t matter. Joshua had already turned his attention to a review of our shopping list.

“Truffle oil!” Joshua exclaimed. “I almost forgot.”

“You get on the line,” I said. “I’ll hunt down the fungus oil.”

“Okay.”

I

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