Freudian Slip (9 page)

“I
T'S BEAUTIFUL
,” K
ATE
murmured. She was staring at a diamond engagement ring. The one she had always dreamed of, with sparkling baguettes on the side and a two-carat pear-shaped diamond. Platinum. From Tiffany's. In an Easter-egg-blue box. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen, and it danced with the light.

“Try it on,” David whispered. “Please?”

While she was out, he had strewn dark pink rose petals down the hall. He had been standing outside her door with the biggest bouquet of wildflowers she had ever seen, grinning sheepishly because his key no longer worked. When she opened the door, he made her close her eyes while he lit dozens of candles.

Now he was asking her to try on the ring.

“I don't want to, David,” she said softly, eyes shining. “Because if I put it on, I won't want to take it off, and I'm not ready to forgive you.”

“I'll wait.” He took the box from her, and walked over to the fireplace mantle. “I'll wait as long as I have to. I'm going to put this ring right here.” He placed the blue Tiffany's box next to the photo of her father. “And when I prove myself to you, and you put this on, that will be the happiest day of my life.”

Kate leaned back against the couch and sighed. Three weeks ago, she would have thought this the most perfect night of
her
life. The proposal was grand and romantic. But try as she might, every time she looked at David—handsome, with those hazel eyes and lashes that made her stomach turn cartwheels—she pictured him screwing Leslie. It was burned in her mind forever. Even if they married, Kate imagined that on her tenth wedding anniversary, as they toasted each other with Moet & Chandon, that there would always be a pause. Her heart would always feel a pang that not only had he been unfaithful, he had betrayed her with her best friend in a way that was irreparable.

“David…I just don't think you can fix this.” He was so used to having his way. Whether as a writer or on the racquetball court. He was used to
winning.
He always got what he wanted. And he had wanted Leslie, she told herself.

He walked over to her and knelt down in front
of her. “Kate, I know I can fix it.” He took her hands and kissed the inside of each of her wrists. “Let me try.”

Tell this jackass to get lost, Katie Girl. Think of who you were today. You were fabulous and confident. You faced down Leslie and won, baby.

Kate heard that internal voice of hers again. The new voice, the confident voice. She just wished she could internalize it. Really
feel
it. The voice was separate from her, almost like a…coach, talking to her, but not part of her. David leaned up and kissed her cheek, his lips brushing her face. She felt his tongue flick across her lips as he then moved down and kissed the nape of her neck. A shiver pulsed through her. They were always so good in bed together.

“David…” She moaned slightly.

“Don't you miss me? Don't you miss this?”

“Ye-es.”

“Think about making love, Kate. How we fit together.”

Fuck off.

“If we fit so well—” she suddenly pushed him away “—why wasn't it enough?”

He fell back a little. “Okay.” He stood up and paced back and forth a couple of times. “Fair question. Honest question.”

“Because I
am
honest—and you're not.”

“But I am. All right…you want to know? You want to know why I did it?”

Kate winced and felt a stabbing inside. Did she really not want to know? What was worse—having the details or always wondering? She decided the wondering. “Fine. Why?”

“Because—” David's voice was pleading “—that ring was burning a hole in my pocket. I wanted to propose, and I was freaking out. The more I freaked, the more the idea that we wouldn't be with
anyone else
for the rest of our lives just kept repeating in my head. I was going out of my mind with wanting this for us and being terrified at the same time.”

“So you thought fucking my best friend was the solution to your dilemma?” She crossed her arms.

“My God, Kate…that doesn't even sound like you. No. Of course not. I ran into her in Barney's. I was picking up a gift for my mother's birthday, and Leslie was shoe shopping or something. We shared a cab, and I told her about the ring. She got all excited and asked to see it, so I invited her to my place. I showed it to her. She said it was gorgeous…and I opened a bottle of champagne. Then a second bottle. It all seemed surreal. I was going to ask you to
marry
me. Marriage. Then all
of a sudden,
she
started flirting with me. Giving me a hard time about how I wouldn't ever get to go to bed with her now that I was getting married.”

Kate felt her cheeks flush, as if she'd been slapped in the face. She clutched her sides.

That Leslie is a conniving bitch. If you believe him.

“I was drunk. I was stupid. I was…caught up in the whole idea that maybe I wasn't ready. But as soon as it was over I knew not only was it a mistake, I
wanted
to be with no one else but you. Forever. Never again. I swear it.”

Kate shook her head. “David, I don't know what to say.”

“Say you'll at least think about it. That you won't shut the door forever—just think about it.”

She bit her lip. “Fine. But you have to go now.”

Ask for your key back. Even if it doesn't open the door anymore. It's a symbolic gesture.

“And,” she said as she stood and walked toward the door with him, “I need my key back. Please.”

David nodded. He pulled his key chain out of his pocket and took a brass key off. He pressed it into her palm. “I know one day you'll give me this back.”

She smiled at him. He was trying hard, she'd give him that. But it all felt too raw. She opened the door to the hallway.

“I'll call you,” he said.

“Fine.”

He leaned in and gently kissed her cheek, his lips lingering for a few seconds. “I love you,” he whispered, then turned and walked down the hall.

Kate watched him leave.

You don't believe this jackass, do you?

She shut the door and looked at the rose petals strewn across the floor. He was the king of grand gestures. The flower arrangement was enormous, and the entire apartment smelled like a florist's. She started blowing out the flickering candles. Then she saw it—the box on the mantle. She had been so overwhelmed she hadn't even looked at it closely.

She stepped over to the fireplace and stared at the ring box. Did the ring fit?

I'm warning you, Kate…don't try it on. I mean it!

Kate's hand hovered over the Tiffany's box. And then, suddenly, the box flew from the mantle and landed on the floor four feet away, as if the strongest gust of wind had blown through her apartment.

“Oh my God!” Her heart pounded. “That was weird.”

And then, distinctly, she heard that voice in her head. Only this time it was clearer. Male. Smooth.

Don't, Kate. He'll only break your heart.

Kate walked over to the box and bent over to touch it. She knew no breeze had blown. No mild
earthquake had flung the box from the mantle. She was almost afraid to touch it, picturing some strange scene out of
Poltergeist.
She stood up and said aloud. “Are you a ghost?”

And the voice, very clearly, replied,
Sort of.

“G
US
,
WE HAVE A CRISIS
on our hands.” Albert was playing with his hair, twisting it 'round his fingers as he stared at the ceiling. ABBA was playing—“Waterloo.”

“Yes, sir,” Gus agreed.

Albert stopped playing with his hair and leaned forward at his desk. He pulled up a complex chart on his laptop, smiling. “You know, I still can't get over computers—delightful little machines.”

“Yes, sir.”

Albert clicked a few keys, hunt-and-peck style. “I never learned to type properly,” he said to Gus. “One moment.” Then he turned the laptop slightly so Gus could see the screen. “Okay, as you can see here, there is a delicate balance between Earth, Heaven, Hell and Neither Here Nor There.”

Gus stared at the swirling chart, which looked rather like a fragment of DNA twirling and spiraling. He didn't understand it. But then, he never
understood Albert's charts. He wondered, not for the first time, why they hadn't assigned Albert someone smart. Like Isaac Newton. Or Galileo. In his human life, he had been a tailor. Respected, but not aristocratic. And certainly not as smart as Albert.

Albert continued, “This is the fabric of the cosmos. This delicate balance is maintained by certain understandings, certain checks and balances. Now, we're all aware Satan and his minions are going to try to interfere in the workings of mankind. It's a given.” Albert clicked and a photo popped up of Balam and Julian walking through Tribeca.

“But in general, they use the workings of free will—mankind tends to botch things up on their own. Now the Angels, they intercede in times of great crisis without calling too much attention to themselves. We read about these cases all the time—miraculous recoveries from cancer, babies rescued from wells, things of that nature.”

“Oh…like that tornado in Kansas—blew the whole building away, left the baby in his crib.”

“Precisely.”

“But here—” Albert pulled up his diagram of the cosmos again and pointed to a nebulous area, which looked as if it was made of stardust “—is Neither Here Nor There—NHNT for short. And
never are the citizens of NHNT to reveal their existence in any sort of physical way. We fly under the radar so to speak. The Demons know we're here, but because they battle the Angels, we enjoy détente. And tonight, we have this.” Albert pressed a key, and a video played of a ring box flying off a fireplace mantle. Albert pressed two more keys and it played again in slow motion.

Gus winced. “Oh, dear. That's not good.”

“Precisely, Gus. I realize you've got a heavy caseload, but I'm transferring your cases to other Guides for the moment, and you are to concentrate entirely on reining in this Julian fellow. I curse the day he was assigned.”

“Yes, Albert. I'll tend to that right now.”

“I knew I could count on you, Gus.”

Gus nodded. “Of course, sir.”

“Care to play a game of chess before you go on your way?”

Gus had played chess with Albert before and Albert usually had Gus in check within seven moves.

“I should really go attend to the situation.”

“Certainly.” Albert switched the music from “Dancing Queen” to Bach. “Ahh, that's better.”

“I'll report back as soon as I have any information, Albert.”

Gus left Albert's office. Were he mortal, he
knew he would have a massive headache. Were he mortal, he would have been fired already. Jack Welch of GE would have canned him in five minutes. Donald Trump (possibly headed to Hell depending on who was laying odds in the office pool) would have said, “You're fired!” But he wasn't mortal. He was here for eternity and this was his latest and biggest headache.

“Well, Julian, my boy…time to see just what you are up to.”

 

G
US WALKED THE STREETS
of Greenwich Village, enjoying its energy, as always. He imagined it was rather like the streets of London in his day—minus the chamber pots being tossed out of upper windows.

New York City really never slept. Because he didn't either, he liked to wander, unseen, studying human beings, sometimes with envy, sometimes with disappointment, but always with compassion. NYU students milled about full of promise. Bar patrons spilled out on the sidewalk. Each bar had its own personality—from pubs to “beautiful people” hot spots. Cabs sped by him. He liked embassy row, where old townhomes with rich history stood on tree-lined streets, ivy climbing their sides.

When he reached Kate's apartment building, he
entered, and then walked through her door to her bedroom. She was sleeping soundly beneath a moss-green comforter, moonlight streaming in. Gus thought she looked quite beautiful. Julian was lying next to her in bed, watching her intently.

“Gus?” Julian lifted his head off the pillow. “Man, am I glad to see you.”

“I'm slightly less glad to see you, Julian. We need to talk.”

Julian sat up and climbed from bed with another glance at the resting Kate. He approached Gus. “Sure,
now
you're willing to talk to me. At first you just dumped me here with no friggin' clue what to do!” Kate stirred. Julian continued, whispering, “You didn't even bother to tell me the devil might show up and offer me a signing bonus. What if I had signed my soul away? Huh? What then? And, what? You guys don't offer any kind of compensation?”

Gus sighed. He turned and walked into Kate's living room. He observed the robin's-egg-blue box back on the mantle. “All right.” He turned to Julian, who had followed him. “Perhaps we need a better training program. We've had discussions in Celestial Resources about that. Saint Matthew was supposed to be working on something.”

“Saint Matthew? Didn't he write one of the chapters in the Bible?”

Gus rolled his eyes. “Yes, he was a close personal friend of Jesus. He's also the Patron Saint of Accountants. A stickler for details. Supposedly, he was working up a manual, a Powerpoint presentation, a short training session. But it's too late for that now. Perhaps I could have explained things better.”

“Perhaps?”

“But that's no excuse for tossing her engagement ring across the room, Julian, my boy.”

“First of all—” Julian poked Gus in the chest “—I didn't even know I could do that. I walk through doors, so how I was supposed to know if I slammed that ring box it would move instead of my hand just going through it?”

“Well,
technically,
it shouldn't have.” Gus sat down on the couch. What was the Boss thinking? This was getting far too complicated.

“What do you mean, ‘technically it shouldn't have'? It did!”

“Well, Julian, try to understand me…. It is not our role to be so emotional. So involved.”

“I'm stuck with this girl 24/7! You told me to figure out what she needed.”

“Yes. But your job was to discern what Kate should do, not become so enraged that you hurled a ring box. You should think of yourself as a monk, or as a Buddhist. You wish her happiness,
you have compassion…but you are not involved. It's that emotional involvement that allowed you to move that box.”

“I'm not emotionally involved.”

“Then what happened after you threw the box?”

Julian didn't say anything.

“Young man, I can find out through cosmic surveillance tapes or you can tell me.”

“What are you, Big Brother?”

“Matthew 10, verse 29.”

“What? You and Saint Matthew are best buddies all of a sudden? I've never read the Bible, Gus.”

“Well, then I'll tell you. The verse says, ‘Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father.'”

“For God's sake, Gus, speak English.”

“She knows all. She knows every sparrow, every blade of grass on Her good earth—which is all the more reason you mortals need to go green and recycle. For heaven's sake, She sends Al Gore out there to try to get mortals to understand how precious Her planet is. She knows all, Julian. All about the heroin. All about your dark secrets. That stash of porn DVDs under your bed.”

“She knows about that?”

“Yes. Even the really, really naughty ones.”

“I hardly ever watch those.”

“She knows about the time you crashed your Porsche into the minivan at the mall and drove away without leaving a note—that minivan was owned by a single mother with four children and unbelievably awful automobile insurance.”

Julian's mouth dropped open slightly. “Wh-at?”

“Yes. She knows all, from the sparrows to you, my boy.”

“Then why does the Bible verse say Father, not Mother.”

“Pronouns. Gender. Immaterial. We are all one in the fabric of the cosmos. So you might as well fess up. That's what you humans don't understand. You hide and nurture your darkest secrets. You tell no one. The evil that men do is kept in the most hidden parts of themselves. But She already knows. So why not bring them into the light, where She can heal you?”

Julian shrugged.

“Come along then. What happened after you knocked the box to the ground?”

Julian shook his head. “All right. Being as you already know, Gus. Kate asked if I was a ghost.”

“And your reply?”

“I said ‘sort of.'”

“Sort of.” Gus snorted.

“Well, I kind of am. I'm Neither Here Nor There. And I wasn't about to explain that to her.”

“You aren't to explain
anything
to her. Julian, your existence is not ever supposed to be revealed.”

“Well, you never told me that. When I answered her, she heard me, Gus. She
heard
me. And she talked back. We can
talk
to each other.”

“I have heard of this theoretically being possible. My direct supervisor…he has theorized it's possible. But I personally have never known of such a thing happening. The connection is obviously very strong, but you must not encourage these conversations.”

“Fine.”

“You must remember that your time in Neither Here Nor There is brief. You will either recover or move on. You can't remain with Kate here. And conversing with her will only confuse her once you've gone…. Julian?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a sullen edge to his voice.

“Let's go pay a visit to your body. Kate is sleeping. She'll be all right if we leave for a short spell. Come on.”

Gus led the way. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Visiting mortal bodies was not generally recommended—in fact, Albert was positive
these types of visits were counter-productive. But in this case, Gus felt an exception was necessary.

About ten minutes later, they stood outside St. Vincent's hospital.

“My body's in there, huh?” Julian asked.

“Indeed. Let's pay a visit, shall we?”

“Maybe I'll see some hot nurses.”

Gus smiled. Perhaps Julian hadn't changed as much as Gus thought.