believe Dauphine called Josie every day before bed. Actually, I couldn’t believe I allowed it.
Every night I put Dauphine to bed and she’d call Josephine for a few minutes to say goodnight. God knew what we were disturbing Josephine from during her work day. Had she gotten a new job? Was she with a boyfriend having a late lunch? The curiosity drove me to distraction. And far luckier than I had any right to be, Josephine answered Dauphine’s call every time. They talked for several minutes about Dauphine’s day while I hovered, pretending to be uninterested, and then told each other they loved each other. After that Dauphine went to sleep and stayed asleep. It wasn’t healthy, allowing Dauphine to develop a dependency to someone on the other side of the world, but whatever it was, it was working. Dauphine hadn’t had a nightmare since they started talking.
After reading one chapter of a kid’s version of Marie Curie’s biography, I kissed my daughter and tucked her in for the night.
Walking to my room, I slipped my tie from around my neck and undid my top button. I was restless. I unpacked, then prowled the house.
One would think now that Dauphine was sleeping so well, it would mean I’d start to sleep better too. And every night after Dauphine and Josephine hung up, I’d tell myself I wouldn’t call her a few hours later. But invariably, several times a week, I found myself waking up and lying in the dark staring at the ceiling and then dialing her number. I told myself it was better than getting up and drowning my thoughts in whiskey as I’d done for too many months as a single father.
Calling Josephine back that night a few weeks ago when I’d caught Dauphine calling her in the middle of the night might have been the dumbest thing I’d done in a while. As soon as she answered, I’d almost hung up. What was there to talk about? But then she gave me an out—no need to talk, just stay on the phone while we fall asleep. It seemed idiotic. Something a lovesick teenager might do. But I surrendered to her suggestion with a will that collapsed like a thirsty man in the desert. And life had truly been a desert without her here. Refusing to admit it was a losing battle. Especially when I heard about her all day, every day, from Dauphine. Even Evan wouldn’t quit making digs at me. And my sleep had actually deteriorated.
Listening to Josephine breathing as she fell asleep was a meditation. It calmed my mind and soothed my soul. Unfortunately it also awakened other parts of me. Cravings I had no right to feel. And so, I battled those too before finally relaxing and drifting to sleep myself.
Tonight, though, I was antsy. Sleep was too far away. The deal I’d been working on for months had just closed. And now it was three in the morning and never mind waking up, I still hadn’t fallen asleep. I wanted to call Josephine, not to lie in silence this time, but to talk.
We hadn’t spoken more than our standard greeting since the first night when she told me she missed me. It was a strange ritual.
I looked over at my clock for the hundredth time. What would she be doing right now? It was nine p.m. where she was, slightly earlier than I usually called. I should feel guilt for using her as a crutch, and keeping her from her life, but when I shallowly examined my conscience, I couldn’t find it. And didn’t try too hard.
I rolled to my side and picked up my phone, calling her before reason and decency got the better of me.
It rang three times and connected. “Josephine?” I asked as I usually did.
“I’m here.”
“Are you alone?” I asked as I did every time I called.
There was a long pause. An uncomfortable sickness slipped under my skin and curled around my stomach.
“Yes,” she said at last as if it pained her to admit.
I swallowed heavily. One day, she would say no, and that would be that. “Moi aussi,” I said, finalizing our ritual. This was where we normally ended our discourse and lapsed into silence. My mind raced through ways to open conversation. I hadn’t planned what to say.
“Xavier?” she asked.
Inhaling through my nose, surprised, I braced for her telling me this was our last call. I wouldn’t blame her. “Oui?”