Sea Change

“Whaddya want to say?”

“I, well, I mean I hate it,” Jesse said. “But that doesn’t seem too weird.”

“Hate it that she was with other men?”

“Them having sex,” Jesse said.

Dix nodded. Neither of them said anything. Dix’s desk was completely empty except for a phone and a calendar pad.

His degrees were on the wall, and there was a couch, which Jesse had never used, against the wall behind him.

“Does it bother you to think of them talking intimately, laughing together, sharing a joke, enjoying a meal, watching a ball game?”

“Sure. Isn’t it, to use a nice shrink word, appropriate, to be jealous when your wife’s cheating on you?” Jesse said.

“It is certainly human,” Dix said. “Is it with the same in-tensity that you think of her having sex?”

“No.”

“Is she cheating on you now?”

“No. Right now we’re good.”

“So?” Dix said.

Jesse started to speak and stopped and sat. Dix was quiet.

“I can’t seem to let it go,” Jesse said.

“What part can’t you let go of?” Dix said.

“Her having sex. I think about it. I imagine it. I can’t get rid of it when I’m with her.”

Dix waited, his head cocked slightly. Jesse was staring at his hands, which were clasped in front of him. After a time he looked up at Dix.

2 6

S E A C H A N G E

“It’s like, almost, like I maybe don’t want to let it go.”

Dix’s face changed just enough for Jesse to see that he approved of the direction the conversation was taking.

“What the hell do I get out of it?” Jesse said.

“Something,” Dix said. “Or you’d let it go.”

“Yes.”

Again they were silent. The hushed whir of the air conditioning was the only sound in the office. It was hard to imagine Dix being hot, or tired, or puzzled, Jesse thought. No one could put up with silence like Dix could. It was like his natural element. Jesse felt winded. He took in another big breath.

“You went out with a lot of other women after your separation and divorce,” Dix said.

“Sure.”

“Did you imagine them with other men?”

“Not really,” Jesse said. “I love Je

“Therefore?” Dix said.

“Therefore I didn’t care who else they’d slept with,” Jesse said.

“Excuse the cliché,” Dix said. “But isn’t that more about you, about how you felt, than it is about Je

Jesse looked blankly at Dix for a moment.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Jesse said.

“You’re human,” Dix said. “A common ailment.”

2 7

6

W hen Jesse got back to the station Je

crossed under her short skirt, showing a lot of thigh. Jesse felt the little pinch of desire in his stomach. He always felt it when he saw her. It was so consistently a part of being with her that he just thought of it as part of the nature of things.

He had always assumed it was what everyone felt when they looked at the person they loved. Why worry about it now?

Was he looking for something to worry about?

“Oh Jesse,” she said. “I have great news. They’re doing an S E A C H A N G E

hour-long special at the station on Race Week. And I’m going to be the on-camera host and do the voiceover, too.”

“Wow,” Jesse said.

“It’s not just some feature for the six o’clock news,” she said. “It’s a full-hour feature and the company plans to syn-dicate it.”

“That’s great, Je

“I’ll be here every day with the crew. I’ll have input. Jesse, this is a really big break for me. We’re owned by Allied Broadcasting, and they have stations in most of the major markets.”

Jesse went around the desk and bent over and kissed her.

She put her arms around his neck, kept her mouth pressed against his and let him pull her from the chair when he straightened up. They held the kiss a long time. When they broke, Jesse exhaled audibly.

“When’s it being broadcast?” he said.

“Well, in syndication it varies by market. But we’re hoping to show it next year around Race Week,” Je

Je

“So you have a whole year to edit and do whatever you do,” Jesse said.

“Yes. Lay in the narration, the music track, enhance the pictures, spruce up the sound. A lot of work, and it gives you an idea of how much hope they have for this, that they’d give us so much time.”

2 9

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“A year,” Jesse said.

He felt the press of her thighs against him, of her breasts.

He felt the miasmic press of emotion that he always felt.

“Not really a year. They need it finished in December for the syndication deal.”

“Still a lot better than editing this afternoon for on air tonight,” Jesse said.

They let go of each other.

“Here,” Je

Jesse sat behind his desk. Je

“You need a place to stay up here?” Jesse said.

“When we worked late, I was hoping to bunk in with you.”

“That’ll work,” Jesse said.

Here was something to worry about.

“I know you’re not so sure you want to live together full time,” Je

“I’m not sure what I want,” Jesse said. “Except you . . .

exclusively.”

She nodded.

“Well, I won’t be here every night,” Je

“One night at a time,” Jesse said, and smiled. “They know you used to be married to the chief of police?”

“I think so. Truth is, I think it’s one reason I got the job.

They figure it’ll give me extra access. I mean I’m a fucking weather girl, you know?”

3 0

S E A C H A N G E

“People like you, Je

“As long as you do,” Je

“I love you.”

“Does that mean you really, really like me?”

“I think so,” Jesse said.

3 1

7

Arthur Angstrom came into Jesse’s office with a leathery gray-haired man that Jesse didn’t know.

“This is Mr. Guilfoyle,” Arthur said. “Runs a small boat rental operation out of Ned’s Cove. Says one of his boats is missing. Don’t seem like much, except for that floater, so . . .” He shrugged.

Jesse nodded.

“Thanks, Arthur,” Jesse said. “Have a seat, Mr. Guilfoyle.

Tell me about your boat.”

“A little day sailor, twelve feet long. Marconi rigged, no jib. Centerboard.”

S E A C H A N G E

Jesse nodded as if he understood, or cared.

“And when did it go missing.”

“Woman rented it from me last month,” Guilfoyle said.

“Never returned it.”

“How long did she rent it for?”

“Just the day. These boats sleep no one, you know? Nobody rents them overnight.”

“Do you have the woman’s name?” Jesse said.

“Sure,” Guilfoyle said. “I don’t pass these things out like samples. I got a credit card and a driver’s license. But the thing is, my boat is down in Nelson’s place. In among the other boats.

Nelson didn’t even know he had it, until one of the kids that works for him tried to put one of his own boats away and there was a boat in the slot. He recognized my ID number on the bow and called me. For crissake, she didn’t even clean it out.”

“What was in it?”

“Trash. Half a loaf of bread, some plastic cups, paper napkins all soaking wet, some moldy cheese, couple apple cores, empty wine bottle, some rotten grapes. Didn’t even put it in the damn bag.”

“Where was the bag from?”

“Ranch Market, in town. Like somebody bought stuff for a picnic.”

“Just lying on the floor of the boat,” Jesse said.