Curse of the Jade Lily (24 page)

Confusion and an inability to concentrate are symptoms of a concussion,
my inner voice said.
That and the ringing in your ears.

“That could be simple tinnitus,” I said aloud.

“What?” the doctor asked.

“Tinnitus—ringing in the ears. Everybody experiences ringing in the ears at one time or another, right? It doesn’t need to be a symptom of a concussion, right?”

“You tell me.”

“Hey, you’re the doctor. I’m the one with the degree in umm, in umm … What did I go to college for? Criminology. I have a degree in—Doc, is irritability also symptomatic of a concussion? I bet it is.”

“McKenzie…”

“You know, it probably wouldn’t kill me to spend another night in this fine establishment. The food sucks, but I could always send out for pizza. I know this great Vietnamese place that delivers, too. Yeah, I’ll stay. I’m going to need my cell phone, though.”

*   *   *

I was sitting up, a plastic plate on top of the hospital’s roll-away overbed table and both positioned so that they were tight against my stomach. I had attempted to eat beef lo mein with chopsticks and failed miserably, so I switched to a fork. That didn’t work out any better. Most people lean over their plates when they eat, only leaning forward was suddenly a painful practice for me. So I tried to eat while keeping my back straight, tilting my head down, and bringing the fork to my mouth instead of meeting it halfway. I kept spilling food all over the napkin I had tucked into the neckline of the hospital gown they had insisted I wear.

“Need any help?” Nina asked.

“No.”

Nina shrugged and continued to consume her kung pao chicken. She was sitting at a table near the window, her feet resting on a chair opposite her, eating directly from the white takeout carton. She didn’t have any problem at all working her chopsticks. Every once in a while she’d fish a cheese puff or a bite of egg roll from one of the other cartons arranged on the table.

“This sucks,” I said.

“You did say you wanted to lose a few pounds,” Nina said. “Here’s your chance.”

“I said I needed to work out more. I didn’t say anything about losing weight.”

Nina smiled.

“Do you think I need to lose some weight?’ I asked.

She smiled some more.

“This sucks,” I said.

“You’re the one who insists on visiting the dark side all the time.”

I didn’t like the tone of her voice, so I asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“No more than usual,” she said. “I’m tired of visiting you in hospitals, though.”

“When did you visit me in a hospital?”

“There was the time after we first met…”

“Oh, yeah, but that doesn’t count. We weren’t even dating then.”

“It counts. And then…”

“Yeah?”

“And then there was that time in South Dakota.”

“You didn’t visit me in the hospital in South Dakota.”

“I would have if I had known you were in the hospital in South Dakota. The point is, I’m tired of it. Don’t make me do this anymore.”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Are we going to have another one of those conversations?”

“No, I’m tired of that, too. You are who you are and I’m who I am. How the hell we ended up together, God only knows.”

“Actually, it was God’s doing. Didn’t you know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“God said to me, ‘McKenzie…’”

“He talks to you personally?”

“All the time. He said, ‘McKenzie, you get Nina.’”

“Did he tell you why?”

“Because he likes me.”

“Obviously.”

I tried to eat more beef lo mein, but it fell off the fork as I was about to scoop it into my mouth.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with that?” Nina asked.

“No, but you can come over if you like.”

Nina set down her meal and made her way to the bed. She sat on the edge of it and leaned in. Her kiss was as soft as a butterfly’s wings.

“Exactly how long did they say you have to wait before you can start working out again?” she asked.

“God knows.”

Nina kissed me without putting any pressure on my shoulder at all. I felt her warmth all down my right arm and chest and spreading through the rest of my body. I wanted to shove the tray away and see how far we could take this before I started screaming out in pain, but I didn’t get a chance. There was a heavy knock on the door, and a moment later Jeremy Gillard sauntered into the hospital room, stopped, looked at me, looked at Nina, looked back at me, and said, “Boy, do I know when to enter a room.”

Nina eased herself off the bed and returned to the table.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I can leave and come back in an hour.”

“Jeremy,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“I was just at the museum.” He threw a thumb at the door as if the museum were just on the other side of it. He smiled at Nina. “Ms. Truhler,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see you again.” He crossed the room and shook Nina’s hand, holding it much longer than I was comfortable with. “You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

Nina thanked him and offered an egg roll.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Gillard said.

“Please, help yourself,” Nina said.

Gillard said, “Well, if you insist,” scooped an egg roll from the carton, and took a bite. “Oh my God, this is amazing,” he quickly added. “Where did you get these?”

“There’s a Vietnamese restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis called Que Viet Village House.”

“These are great. You know, there’s this joint in Chinatown in Chicago that I go to that makes egg rolls, but these…”

“Hey, guys,” I said.

“The difference is the filler,” Nina said. “The Chinese use cabbage, and the Vietnamese use noodles. Plus, the Vietnamese wrappers are thinner and crispier.”

“Guys?”

They both turned toward me.

“I presume you’re here for a reason, Jer,” I said.

“Oh, yeah,” Gillard said. “I was just at a meeting at the museum. The insurance guy, Donatucci, he told us that you got blown up trying to retrieve the Jade Lily. I just wanted to drop around and see how you were. Donatucci said you were okay, but honestly, McKenzie, you don’t look okay. Are you okay?”

“I have a concussion, a broken collarbone, sprained left ankle, my forehead looks and feels like someone hit me with a baseball bat, and I have cuts and bruises all over the place, so to answer your question—yeah, I’m okay.”

“Just rub some dirt on it, right? That’s what my old football coach would have said.”

“I played baseball, and my coach would have said to walk it off. ‘Don’t baby yourself. Walk it off.’”

“I’m really sorry about this, McKenzie.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Nina said.

We both looked at her.

“Not all your fault, but you get your share of blame,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Gillard said.

“Have some more egg roll.”

He did.

“How did the boys and girls take the news?” I asked. “The boys and girls at the museum.”

“Everyone’s pretty upset,” Gillard said. “What’s her name, Perrin Stewart? I thought she was going to break down and cry. That Anderson guy, the one with the big mouth? He went a little crazy; wanted to fire everybody. Said they should get rid of Stewart; said he knew just the woman who should take her place. Stewart claimed that Anderson had wanted to get rid of her ever since he started sleeping with some blond bimbo who knew nothing about art but plenty about, well”—he smiled at Nina—“since there’s a lady present I won’t complete the quote. But by the reaction around the room, I’m guessing not everyone knew about Anderson’s extracurriculars. Accusations really began to fly. It was all very entertaining. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bravo made a reality TV series out of it.”

“Did you get a name?”

“A name? Oh, for the woman. No, she was always referred to as ‘the bimbo.’ Why?”

“What about Randolph Fiegen? How did he take all this?”

“The man who’s really in charge?”

“You noticed that, too, did you?”

“Yeah, I noticed. Fiegen was very quiet. Didn’t say much of anything. You could see the wheels spinning in his head, though. While everyone else was carrying on, I think he was wondering about the same thing I was wondering about—how come there was no sign of the Lily in the debris?”

“Good question,” I said.

“You don’t know anything about it?”

“Not that I recall.”

“That’s what Donatucci said. The concussion, because of that you don’t remember what happened.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jer.”

“Well…” Gillard picked up another egg roll, prepared to take a bite, and then put it back in the carton. “Well. The insurance company is going to drag its feet just like you said. I suppose if we knew for sure that the Jade Lily had been destroyed in the explosion…”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Sorry.”

“If you were to remember, it would be worth a lot of money.” Gillard waved at me then. “If you remember. No worries. That damn Lily—you know what? I think it really is cursed.”

“I think you’re right.”

Gillard might have said more, might have become even more blatant in his bribery attempt, except he was interrupted by another knock on the door, this one much softer. Unlike Gillard, my visitor waited until I called, “Come in,” before opening the door.

Heavenly Petryk stepped into the room.

“Speaking of curses,” Nina said.

Heavenly paused, glanced from face to face, smiled that incandescent smile of hers, and said, “Hello everyone.”

“Look who’s here,” Gillard said.

He moved toward Heavenly as if he wanted to give her a hug. She rotated her shoulder to block him, patted his arm, and said, “Jeremy, good to see you,” as she made her way to my bedside. “McKenzie, are you all right?”

“People keep asking that. I’m in a hospital, for God’s sake. Of course I’m not all right.”

She nodded as if she expected that answer all along.

“I’m sorry you were hurt,” Heavenly said.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“We don’t know that for sure, do we?” Nina said.

There was a shocked expression on Heavenly’s face, but it didn’t last. She watched Nina return to the chair next to the table, pick up her carton of kung pao chicken, prop her feet up on the chair opposite hers, and start eating.

“The reason I came is because it’s important that you know I had nothing to do with what happened,” Heavenly said. She was looking at Nina when she spoke. Nina waved her chopsticks at her.

“It’s true,” Heavenly said. This time she was talking directly to me.

“Why would you want to blow up McKenzie?” Gillard asked.

“Exactly,” Heavenly said.

“I never thought you were involved,” I said. “But I am glad you’re here.”

That caused Nina to raise an eyebrow, although she didn’t speak. Heavenly took my hand and gave it a squeeze like we were the best of friends. Nina said nothing about that, either.

“Have you heard what happened to the Lily?” I asked.

“I heard,” Heavenly said.

“Looks like nobody gets it now.”

“So it would seem.”

“Poor Tatjana.”

“Yes, poor Tatjana, poor Jeremy, poor Branko Pozderac, poor City of Lakes Art Museum, poor Midwest Farmers Insurance Group, poor who else?”

“Don’t say poor me,” Gillard said. “I’ll get the insurance—eventually, anyway.”

“A lot of people are unhappy that the Lily has gone poof,” Heavenly said.

“You’re going to lose your finder’s fee,” I said.

“Yes. I’m sure you’re all broken up about that.”

“You wound me, Heavenly, to think I’d wish you ill. Especially after all the trouble you went through. And poor Tommy, too.”

Heavenly released my hand, moved around the bed, and settled near the table. Nina did not remove her feet from the chair so she could sit, nor did she offer up any egg rolls.

“The thing is, though—I’m curious,” Heavenly said. “I guess everyone is curious. Why couldn’t they find any sign of the Jade Lily when they examined the wreckage after the bomb blast?”

“You know, Heavenly, Jerry, I’m getting awfully tired. Plus my head hurts and … It was nice of you to come around. I appreciate it.”

Gillard got the hint right away.

“I’m glad you’re more or less intact, McKenzie,” he said. He gave my leg a gentle tap through the blanket. “You take care of yourself. We’ll talk again soon. Don’t forget, we’re going to paint the town when you’re up to it.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said.

Gillard went to the door and paused, waiting for Heavenly. Heavenly took her time, though, rubbing her beautiful face with both hands before moving back to the bed. Her eyes were hard and glistening, and for the first time I understood why some people use the color blue to describe ice. She leaned in like she was going to kiss my cheek. Instead, she whispered in my ear. “I know you have it.” Then, because Nina was watching intently, Heavenly kissed me on the mouth. Afterward, she went through the door that Gillard held open without saying another word.

Nina finished swallowing a mouthful of kung pao chicken before she spoke.

“Glad she was here, were you?” she said.

“It answers a question that has been nagging at me for a couple of days.”

“What question?”

Instead of answering, I went back to work on my beef lo mein. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep things from her; it was just that I thought it was best to wait until I was out of the hospital before I told Nina the truth. She wasn’t pleased, of course, but after four years, three months, and seventeen days, she was starting to get used to me.

“You know before when you said that I liked Heavenly?” Nina said. “It’s not true.”

THIRTEEN

Looking back, they were perhaps the five hardest words I had ever spoken. There she was, looking as beautiful as ever, standing in my empty living room, one of those rolling suitcases that you see people pulling across airport concourses next to her. She had obviously come to stay, and in case I didn’t get the hint, she explained it to me.