The Return of Jonah Gray (31 page)

“I think I'd rather finish this—all this—” he said, motioning around Fred's office, “—without you here.”

I nodded. “That's fair.” I stood up. “When Fred gets back, you can finish up with him.”

I started to leave Fred's office.

“So what are you going to do now?” Jonah asked. “Head to Fresno?”

I turned around to look at him, for what I knew would be the last time. “Fres-no-way,” I said. “I don't know. I just want to be out in the world.”

I thought maybe I saw him smile a little, but I didn't have anything else to say. I turned and left.

 

Then I called my mother.

“I can't believe you didn't tell me that you've been writing to Jonah Gray,” I said to her.

“On and off. You knew that.”

“I knew you were going to his site. That's different from writing to him directly.”

“I think he's handsome.”

“You've met him?”

“At the nursery. But that was months ago. I hope this second audit wasn't too uncomfortable. For him, I mean.”

“He seemed to take it in stride,” I said. Then I froze. “When did he tell you he was being audited again?”

“He didn't,” she said.

It hit me. “You didn't, did you?”

“What?”

“Are you the one who turned him in?”

“I didn't realize you'd mind,” she began.

“Why would you put him through that? How did you even know what to say?”

“I had a good feeling about Jonah. Ever since you first mentioned him. So when I saw Fred Collins at your father's service…”

“Fred was in on this, too? You guys have no boundaries at all, do you? What ever happened to not trying to set me up with every random man you come across? Didn't you claim to have learned some sort of lesson about that?”

“Did Fred ever tell you how he met his wife?” she asked. “It's the sweetest thing. He was auditing her. When I heard that, I thought, well why not?”

“Excuse me, but can I have a say over my own life? You're still betting with Ricardo, aren't you? That's not fair.”

“To whom, dear?”

“To either of us. It's not right. It should just happen. And not because you or Fred prodded the poor guy.”

“All I did was get him an easy little audit. I didn't make him go in person. How'd it go?”

“Well, he's gone again. For good this time.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said.

“He found out that when Jeffrine was calling him and writing to him and asking him for gardening help about loopers, that it was actually me. He trusted me when I was Jeffrine. He doesn't trust me as Sasha.”

“You told him your name was Jeffrine? But that's so unflattering.”

“There was a context. I really don't want to get into it.”

I wanted to get out of the building. I was afraid that Fred was going to stop by my cubicle, his face expectant, and I'd have to explain how Jonah Gray was gone completely this time, even after his well-intentioned assistance. I took my yew tree down to the reception area and stayed there until the clock struck five. With that, I was gone. Gone from the building, gone from the IRS, gone from my life as an auditor.

 

Once home, I walked up to my porch and pulled the mail from my mailbox. As soon as I turned toward the door, the phone inside started to ring. I pulled open my purse and dug frantically for my keys, bending my mail and shoving my coat under my arm.

“Shit,” I muttered as I upended my purse on the porch, grabbed my keys and managed to force them into the lock. I flung the door open and lunged for the phone. Why do I do this? I wondered as I went through the motions. It would be a telemarketer, or a survey, or the newspaper selling subscriptions, or my mother apologizing for meddling in my life yet again.

“Hello,” I gasped.

“Why Jeffrine, you're not in Fresno after all.” It was that voice. His voice. The voice that wrapped around you like a warm day.

“I really am sorry,” I said.

“Actually, I'm flattered,” he said. “I thought I was the one who wanted to talk to you. I didn't realize it was also the other way around.”

“I knew you'd be mad and think I was a crazy person.”

“You disappeared,” he said. “I didn't know how to find you. Do you know how many Hills there are in Fresno?”

“But I'm not in Fresno,” I said. “I'm still here.”

“Thank God. You sound like you're out of breath,” he said. “I hope you didn't rush on my account.”

I smiled. I looked at my keys, still in the door. My purse upended on the porch. My mail in a bent pile. “It was worth it,” I said, and I sat on the floor to talk to Jonah Gray.

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