The Blue Line (11 page)

THE NEIGHBORS

End of the Boreal Summer

2006

T
he sight of the blue and orange flowers that she planted throughout the garden and around the base of her old tree pains her. Julia turns to gaze at the avenue and, beyond, her sea. Always in its place, smooth, its horizon stretching straight as a ruler. The human universe seems ephemeral in contrast, precarious. Julia will leave; the house and the flowers will remain. She has already left. She will not grow old with a faceless man, like in a Magritte painting.

Julia turns the key in the lock like a thief. Everything seems foreign to her now. She walks slowly toward the cut-stone fireplace in the living room. Theo wanted to put in a vent and install a pellet stove to reduce their heating bill. Julia was against it, and the issue turned into a fight: he would be the
one to decide. In the end Julia managed to convince him to put the stove in the basement, because then the heat would rise and warm all the rooms, even the ones upstairs. Theo agreed begrudgingly and got his revenge by insisting on keeping the heat on its lowest setting during the day, turning it up only when he got home. So Julia spent her winters wrapped in a blanket, waiting for a man hemmed in by his obsessions, needing to punish himself and the world.

I've let myself be engulfed by his demands, succumbing to who he wanted me to become
.

Their wedding photo has pride of place on the mantelpiece. Standing beside them, Ulysses does not look like their son. Julia is wearing the lace dress Anna brought her from Argentina. Theo looks handsome. He has that same boyish air as when he takes her by the hand and kisses her surreptitiously, as if he might be caught.

A few days before they were arrested, they came to an agreement. The military knew that the leftist youth were distrustful of religious weddings. When the police persecution was at its height, the Montoneros had given orders to marry in churches, because wedding photos would deter the
milicos
*
from continuing a search.

Holding the photograph, she looks around her and mechanically makes an inventory of all the things that will have to be packed up. Would she have preferred not to know? She
collapses onto the sofa. If she had the energy, she would pick up the phone and call her friend Diane.

Instead, Julia goes to fetch her bicycle. She must steady her insides, which are churning like snakes in a sack. She turns right, with no particular destination in mind, and passes a couple out jogging. They stop in their tracks and call out to her. She recognizes them as two of Theo's colleagues who live in their neighborhood.

“Back home early from the office?” Julia asks, by way of small talk.

“No, we take Fridays off. That way we get to have a long weekend.”

“I thought they ended that system.”

“No, it's still going. Thankfully!” the young woman says, ready to start running again. Then, jogging back, she adds: “Come over for dinner this weekend. We'll invite Mia too.”

“Mia?”

“Yes, the new Korean girl. You don't mind, do you?”

“I don't know who she is,” Julia replies, smiling.

“She and Theo often have lunch together. I thought . . .”

Julia cuts her off. “Great! It'll give me a chance to meet her.”

Well
, it looks like I'm the last one to know
.

—

She gets back home and heads straight for her cell phone.

“Diane, darling, it's me. Yes. I need your help.”

DIANE

End of the Boreal Summer

2006

D
iane and Julia met by chance during the winter of 2002. At least that's what Diane thought. They became friends following a terrible accident outside the mall in Milford. Diane left her new Jaguar in the parking lot on the other side of Boston Post Road because the lot at the mall was full. She was about to cross the four-lane highway on foot, flouting traffic laws the Latino way. Diane had been born in Buenos Aires and had lived in Spain for a long time, working as a professional dancer. It was there that she had met Max, a wealthy East Coast real estate developer, who had brought her to the States, setting her up in a grand house in New Haven while they waited for his divorce to come through.

Diane was getting ready to cross snow-covered Boston
Post Road when a pretty woman muffled in a fluffy white parka started running toward her, calling out and waving her arms, despite the risk of slipping on the icy sidewalk. Diane assumed it was a comical case of mistaken identity. But the strange woman flung her arms around Diane's neck, exclaiming in a strong
porteño
*
accent: “¡Vos no sabés lo que te he buscado!”
*

The next instant their heads swiveled in unison to watch as a pickup lost control on a patch of black ice and rammed into the undercarriage of a Whole Foods truck coming from the opposite direction. It all had seemed to happen in slow motion. The speeding truck flipped over on its side and slid crosswise down the avenue, carrying off everything in its path amid a terrifying screech of tires, brakes, and crushed metal.

The cacophony gave way to a heavy silence.

“I think you just saved my life,” Diane said.

Clinging to each other, Diane and Julia moved away blindly and sat down. They discovered they were both
porteñas
from the same part of La Boca, that neither had been in the United States long, that they'd both spent a significant part of their lives in Europe, and that they lived a fifteen-minute drive from each other. Clearly there was no such thing as coincidence.

Julia didn't say anything about her gift, or the journey that
had enabled her to foresee the accident, or the sleepless nights she had spent crouching in the bathroom, reviewing the images to find a clue.

In fact, it was by sheer chance that Julia had recognized the intersection where the accident would take place. She had gone to Milford to get one of Theo's suits altered. She had recognized the intersection when she'd done a U-turn on the avenue to get to the shop and found herself smack in the middle of her vision. Julia had then determined that the accident would take place on a Tuesday, because that was the day Whole Foods trucks delivered to the store, and worked out the approximate time based on the usual delivery schedule.

Each Tuesday at the same time for the previous three weeks, Julia had taken up a position outside the parking lot of the menswear store and stood watching for the arrival of a woman she knew hardly anything about, just that she would be driving a metallic-gray car, wearing red nail polish, and toying with a Boca Juniors key ring. She'd had no doubt that Diane was her source when she'd seen her risking her life by charging into the flow of traffic without waiting for the light to change.

By way of explanation, she told Diane that she had mistaken her for a friend she hadn't seen since her youth in Buenos Aires. In one sense it could have been true. Julia had immediately been intrigued by the demeanor of this woman
who, like Rosa, had the unmistakable allure of a girl from Buenos Aires.

—

Diane arrives less than half an hour after Julia's phone call. She lets herself in noisily through the kitchen door and finds Julia sitting curled up in the living room, miles away.

“Darling! Are you sick?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I don't think I can move.”

“Then it must be serious.”

“Yes. Theo's cheating on me.”

“Oh, my God! How do you know? Are you sure?”

Julia describes the episode in the trunk of the car.

Diane explodes into a fit of giggles and collapses onto the sofa next to Julia, who begins to laugh as well.

“Tell me you didn't do that, Julia!” Diane squeals.

“Yes, I did.”

“But that's pathetic, darling! Theo could have found you. Can you imagine?”

They double up on the sofa, roaring with laughter.

“Okay, if that's all it is, we're going to celebrate,” Diane says finally. “Let's open a bottle of champagne.”

“Stop it. I haven't been able to eat a single thing all day.”

“I can see that, but I'm not asking you to eat. We're going to drink! We're going to celebrate his adultery.”

“No way. That's out of the question!”

“But don't you see? You've spent your whole life moping around because of him. Julia, you're beautiful, young, and full of life. He's just set you free! This calls for a celebration.”

Julia gets up and, with an air of conviction, takes the champagne flutes out of the sideboard and sets about ceremoniously opening the bottle Theo always keeps chilled in the fridge.

“I've been asking Theo for the past week what happened to the foie gras I brought back from France. Now I realize: he celebrated before us!”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don't think I have any choice, Diane. I'm going to leave him.”

The two women look at each other.

“Yes. The fact is the two of you have a serious, fundamental problem, and I'm not sure you can set things straight. We've seen each other practically every day for nearly four years now. I've had plenty of time to observe your relationship with Theo. Anyone would have thought that if one of you was going to tire of the marriage, it'd be you. But there you go. Darling, I think you've just gradually fallen out of love.”

“I don't think that's true for me.”

“Sure it is. Look, it's very clear. You wanted to be the person you thought he wanted you to be. But he wanted you to be the way you were before. He's not the same person anymore, either. Basically, the person you love is no longer there. And
you are both imprisoned in the past. Sorry, darling, you're going to have to let me raise a toast to good old Theo. Now that he's running after that Korean girl of his, I actually think he's pretty impressive.”

They hear the kitchen door opening.

It's Theo.

THE BERKSHIRE MANOR

Boreal Autumn

2006

W
e were just drinking a toast to you,” Diane says to him.

Theo quickly puts his things down on the kitchen counter and walks into the living room to join in the conversation. But Diane glances at her watch and, suddenly remembering an urgent something or another, leaves them. Theo and Julia look at each other, confused.

“Have you packed your things?” Theo asks finally.

“What things?”

“But . . . we're off to the Berkshires, aren't we?” he stammers, taken aback. “Why do I always have to remind you of what's going on?”

“Maybe because I had more important things to take care of.”

“Come on, let's get ready quickly. It'll do us good to get away, Julia, my love.”

“Go pack your bag. I'll pack mine.”

“Don't you want to help me?”

“No.”

Theo doesn't lose his composure and goes upstairs to pack his things. Then he goes out to load the motorcycle onto the trailer. Julia joins him outside and waits for him by the car. She has taken Diane's advice and is wearing her black skirt, a white silk blouse, and her wedge sandals that really show off her legs. It seems like they're in for a magnificent sunset. The clouds are melting away like candy against a pink and green background. Julia isn't sure she has the strength to face what lies ahead.

The bags are now in the back of the car and they're ready to leave. Brushing past Julia, Theo turns and peers at her.

“You look tall!” he says, sounding surprised.

The remark irritates Julia: she's being compared with someone else. She shrugs. Diane was right. He's falling off his pedestal.

They get into the car, get on the freeway, and turn off onto the Merritt Parkway. The idea of shutting herself up in a forest makes Julia feel more at ease. She likes the way this landscape stands up for itself. Theo joins the Connecticut 8 toward Waterbury, heading north to the small town of Lee.

All of nature seems ablaze. Autumn is her favorite season. Julia would like to love this country without him, to come back without him. To see it all again, one last time: the needle-shaped steeple of Lee's little church, its winding river and the
old covered wooden bridge. She switches on the radio. A tired old Led Zeppelin song comes through the speakers. The notes travel through her veins like poison, secreting an uncontrollable sadness. She digs her nails into her palms to keep herself from crying. Theo hasn't noticed anything.

But she can feel he's agitated, ill at ease. In the end he asks her to help him look for a CD he's just bought. “It should be in the glove compartment.”

Julia doesn't react. He stretches out an arm impatiently and brushes her knee.

“Sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't stand that music anymore.”

“But you used to love it.”

Theo flinches. “We're not the same people anymore, Julia.”

“I'm not so sure. The tree draws life from its roots.”

By way of an answer, he puts the CD in the player. A wave of ear-splitting sounds floods the car. She turns down the volume and turns to Theo. “You like this!”

Theo throws her a black look. “Yes. This music helps me.”

Julia would like to help him too. But she no longer knows how.

—

They leave the Mass Pike and take the little roads that wind westward through the countryside. Night is already falling by the time they finally reach the deserted little town of Lee. They drive down a narrow, leafy road and turn left into a lane
lined with huge maple trees. At the far end of a park is a large house with several outbuildings. It is a big Georgian-style farmhouse dating back to the beginning of the eighteenth century. It has been well looked after, repainted all in white with a new gray slate roof. They park the car under the proud trees and go inside with the owner, who has come out to greet them.

He leads them through a maze of little staircases and corridors, stopping in front of a door on the third floor. “I've made up the Blue Room for you,” he says courteously.

“Perfect, thank you,” Theo replies, placing their bags on the bed.

The man sets about coaxing the embers of the fire back into flames and then leaves, closing the door softly behind him.

Theo crouches in front of the hearth. Julia stares at him, then sits down on the pretty wooden chest at the foot of the bed. The mantelpiece displays a collection of antique plates that give the room its name. She wishes it all could have just been a misunderstanding, and that Mama Fina had been wrong.

“Theo . . . I ran into your colleagues from work.”

“Oh, did you? The McIntyres?” Theo says without turning around.

“Yes, the McIntyres.”

“And?”

“They were out for a lunchtime jog.” She pauses. “They told me they take Fridays off, like you.”

“Not like me. I've already explained it to you.”

“Stop it, Theo.”

Theo turns around and snarls: “So you're spying on me?”

“I know you're seeing one of your colleagues. A Korean girl called Mia.”

Theo turns pale and sits down abruptly on the floor. Licking his lips, he avoids Julia's gaze. When he finally speaks, it's clear he's choosing his words carefully. “She's just a friend. I see her at the office. We have lunch together once in a while.”

She watches him struggle, his throat dry, his eyes casting about the room. He's suffering, but he carries on talking, gradually gaining confidence.

“You remember, I pointed her out to you at the Fourth of July party. We were in the parking lot for the fireworks.”

Julia has stopped looking at him. She doesn't want to listen to him anymore. She is doubled over, her eyes feverish.

“I'm more upset with you for lying to me than for cheating on me.”

Theo falls silent, paralyzed. After a moment, she adds: “I wanted so much to help you.”

Julia thinks she sees him falter. He runs his fingers nervously through his hair. “You don't understand. I have to break free from the past, Julia. I can't explain.”

“Don't explain. Theo, I'm leaving you.”

Her words echo in the silence, frightening her. Julia is overcome with dizziness. Long minutes tick by slowly, increasing the distance between them. Theo puts an end to it.

“Are you sure?”

Julia doesn't know. She wishes she could go back in time, wipe it all out.

“Are you going to live with her?”

Theo turns around.

“No. We're not like that.”

—

His words feel like a slap in the face.