find out what she could about the house on Bethel. As of yet, neither woman had success in talking to the owner. I found Emily’s fascination with the particular property rather curious. Because she mentioned it so often I’d made a point of checking it out while taking Rover for his walk. It was a run-down monstrosity, and I couldn’t imagine why it appealed to her so strongly. When I walked past, a German shepherd had raced up to the fence, growling and barking frantically. Rover glared back at him and barked; he seemed insulted to be treated so shabbily, and frankly, I didn’t blame him. Clearly we weren’t about to trespass on the property.
Evenings were my favorite part of the day. Emily and I took turns cooking dinner. I will say it was a treat to have someone else cook a meal for me. Most of my guests were out in the evenings, as I didn’t provide meals beyond breakfast. My boarder proved to be an excellent cook. She used fresh ingredients and frowned upon processed food. I did, too, but when cooking for one it was often more expedient to toss a frozen entrée into the microwave. I didn’t want to put a lot of effort into dinner for just me. If it wasn’t a frozen entrée, I’d throw some lettuce together, but I grew bored with salads and had gotten into the habit of cardboard meals. With two of us there was more of a reason to make an effort to prepare real food.
After dinner Emily and I sat on the veranda, looking out over the cove. We were both silent, caught up in our individual thoughts. As always, despite my best efforts, my head was full of Mark. I didn’t want to think about him and had made a gallant effort to put him out of my mind, not that I’d succeeded, mind you. And now, after I’d gotten that postcard, the task had become a lost cause. The date on the card was weeks old. Reading between the lines seemed to suggest Ibrahim was injured. If not Ibrahim, then maybe one of his family members.
“If only I knew where Mark was.”
“Mark?” Emily asked, turning to study me. “Who’s Mark?”
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud. “Sorry…” It felt awkward dragging his name out of the blue like that. “He’s a friend,” I said, answering her question, and then immediately felt the need to correct myself. “Well, actually, he’s more than a friend.”
“He’s away?” she asked.
That, I suppose, was the next logical question. “In Iraq,” I said, without explanation.
“He’s military?”
“He used to be. He went back of his own accord to find a friend, an Iraqi national who worked with the Americans as an informant. Mark’s company was ordered out and…” I paused when I realized I was giving her far more information than necessary. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all this on you.”
“No, please, I’d like to hear what happened.”
And so I told her, condensing a lot of the story, giving her basic elements.
“Are you in love with him?” she asked.
Emily certainly didn’t have a problem getting to the heart of the matter. I had no clue that my feelings could so easily be read by a woman who barely knew me.
“Yes, I care about him…very much so. He’s been gone almost a year. A year,” I repeated, and my voice cracked. The longest year of my life. Even longer than when I’d waited to learn Paul’s fate.
“I don’t know if Mark is dead or alive,” I continued. “Just before you arrived I got a postcard that didn’t make sense and then it sort of did. Now I don’t know what to think.”
“What did the card say?”
I repeated it verbatim, having memorized the few short lines.
“ ‘Lost suitcase okay, but mine is badly damaged, making its way home,’ ” Emily repeated, and sipped her coffee, holding on to the mug with both hands. “In his handwriting?”
“Yes…I think so, but it was jerky, as if he was writing it while riding over a bumpy road.”
“Or weak?” she mumbled, carefully studying me.
“Or weak,” I repeated, and closed my eyes. I’d assumed that the damaged luggage referred to Ibrahim or Shatha…not Mark himself. How could I have been so blind? “It’s Mark,” I whispered as the truth hit me. “It must be him. He’s the one who is hurt. That’s…that’s why I had such trouble reading the card.” All at once it felt as if a concrete block was