periods of separation over at last and the world no longer jealous for his attention. They had talked about having a cabin in the mountains of North Carolina or Santa Fe. There were so many possible moments she imagined for themselves, but she also knew it was a fantasy. Henry would never willingly stop or even slow down. She would never have him entirely to herself.
They met at a Braves game while she was getting her master’s at Georgia State. Jill came with her then husband, Mark, who was doing his residency at Emory Hospital. Mark knew Henry by reputation, and talked to him over Jill, who sat between them. Henry was polite. It was clear that he preferred to watch the game, but Mark was intent on making an impression. Two things struck Jill at the time. One was that Mark was in awe. She had never seen him nakedly cultivate another intellect as he did with Henry. The conversation was quite technical—it had to do with an antibiotic-resistant pneumonia that was stalking Emory Hospital at the time—but, judging by Mark’s reaction, Henry’s responses were original and surprising. Among Mark’s faults was a tendency to be garrulous and intellectually overbearing, but with Henry he seemed to be out of his depth.
The other thing that Jill noticed was Henry’s interest in her. At first, she thought he was merely being solicitous. It is common in the South for gentlemen to court a lady’s opinion even if he isn’t interested in it, like holding the door open. Henry was no southerner, and not the type to surrender his integrity for the sake of custom or courtesy, yet throughout Mark’s monologue he included Jill in his responses, even though the subject was beyond her grasp. There was one moment when the Phillies had the bases loaded with no outs. Mark was holding forth but Henry was staring intently at the game, expectantly, almost visibly signaling Mark to shut up for a moment. There was a sharp grounder to third, and both Henry and Jill leapt to their feet as the Braves’ third baseman stepped on the bag and threw to second, who then fired to first. Impulsively, Jill hugged Henry.
“What happened?” Mark asked.
“Triple play!” Henry cried.
Jill had never seen one before. The play was exciting, but Jill found her reaction curious. Why had she embraced this little man she had just met?
Mark, who could be oblivious about social matters, noticed the hug. After the game, he invited Henry to come to dinner the following week, the first of several such occasions. Mark was angling for something. It wasn’t a job—he was quite sought after and would soon be going into his own practice. He was destined to be one of those doctors who lives in a Tara-like mansion in Buckhead and serves on the board of a major pharmaceutical company. Jill had no objection to being a part of such a cosseted life, and, to be fair, maybe both of them needed something from Henry. Mark hungered to be elevated to the upper tier of scientific accomplishment, where people whispered about the competition for the Nobel. Mark himself would never be in that category—he wasn’t fooled about his own limitations—but he could befriend someone who was, someone new and unattached, someone who might welcome the attention. Jill knew that Mark was exploiting the attraction she felt for Henry, and he for her. In a way, she felt sorry for Mark.
But what did Jill get out of it?
She puzzled over this. She was married. She was not discontented. Henry was a challenging figure. He was freighted with secrets, and that intrigued her. His mind was complex but also flexible enough to become thoroughly engaged by a baseball game. He was playful in conversation, which led Jill to wonder what he would be like in bed. Henry was certainly not a sexual object in any standard way. He was a little shorter than Jill, bowlegged and suffering from scoliosis, and he walked with a cane, but when Jill allowed herself to consider him physically, what immediately came to mind was his head, which was large and disproportionate to his body but also distinguished and, she thought, handsome. Dashing, actually. So when Mark left her for the heiress of a hedge fund fortune, Jill was shocked but not heartbroken. She knew that Henry would be there, believing that in some way he had always been waiting for her. As she had been for him.