On their first day out and despite their entirely comfortable verbal cut and thrust at Lisa’s, she and Murphy didn’t do much. They just gravitated around each other, both somehow cautious and wary of what was happening. An unexpected event in a place where nothing surprising was supposed to occur at all.
But after a few days, they seemed to realize that they could find a pleasurable company with one another. It felt like they had known each other forever and she marveled at that weird sensation. It was something she had not experienced in a very long time. And yet somehow, deep down, it didn’t feel so surprising. Again and for the umpteenth time, there was just something about that man that pulled her in, but she couldn’t really tell what it was.
On those very first days, Murphy – or Ethan, as Lisa had chosen to call him – shot several pictures and repeatedly handed his Reflex to Lisa. Telling her that she needed to seize the moment and take it with her forever. Because moments never came back.
He would also always do this thing, where he moved a step back and clasped his hands behind his back after handing her the camera. Like a school teacher observing a student solve a very complicated quiz. It had made her laugh a couple of times: he was funny in such a sweet, endearing way, and probably didn’t even realize it.
“What are you waiting for, Ethan?”
Lisa stood by the cliff, camera in hand, feeling his eyes on her.
He placed his hand on his chest, looking over at her in feigned surprise.
“Me? Nothing. Why are you paying attention to me, again? You got the Reflex, you’re supposed to do your thing.”
“I can’t do my thing if you keep staring at me.” Keeping up the obvious charade, Lisa pretended to be annoyed. “So stop it, please.”
“I am not staring at you. I’m looking at the landscape.” Dipping his head, Murphy chuckled and turned around, showing her his back. ” But OK… There you go.”
Gosh, he was so melodramatic! She had to chuckle.
“What’s that, now? What the heck are you doing?”
“I’m just giving you privacy.”
His matter-of-fact tone made her laugh even more.
“What the hell is that? Why don’t you go back home and come back when I’m done? God!”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. It would be a long-ass walk.”
Lisa snorted.
“Well, just so you know… If I were you, I’d change my stance, ’cause it sure looks like you’re peeing.”
“I have no control over your dirty mind. Besides, my hands are behind my back, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She could tell that he, too, was suppressing a chuckle.
“Then it looks like a hands-free pee.”
“Which would result in me peeing all over my boots, so, once again… thanks but no, thanks.”
“Your precious boots wouldn’t stay wet for long. This fucking wind would dry off those puppies up in no time.”
Murphy giggled.
“…You are one foul-mouthed lady. You need to wash out that mouth with soap, Miss Presley…” He shook his head and looked up at the sky. Then he sighed dramatically.
Lisa chuckled and turned her head, observing the raging inferno of the sea through the camera lens. Winter was approaching, every day seemed to introduce a darker shade of grey at the horizon, and the waves looked as if they were competing with the clouds above, their color turning from steel grey to pitch black. It was fascinating, and Lisa and Murphy had found the perfect subject for their pictures in that perpetual motion: waves retreating and then crashing against the shore and the cliffs, again and again. He had said that it reminded him of one of his favorite paintings: “The wanderer over the sea of mist.”
The perfect subject, photographed from the ideal point of observation, looked the same every day, yet it was always different. Their routine had already become familiar. Spending time together every day, every morning, for a couple of hours, was turning into a habit. A habit both of them looked forward to, despite their apparent mutual fear of closeness.
As days passed by, that simple gravitation around one another started to turn into something more intimate, both in verbal and physical terms. Their hands would touch, casually, just lightly, and the contact was never skin on skin, since they were always outdoors and both wore gloves. From time to time, Lisa would playfully push Murphy and laugh at him when he pretended to stumble – even though she had a feeling that he was much more athletic and agile than he let on. They would joke a lot and they would talk. And it would always feel great.
In a surprising twist of events – especially considering her usual discretion – Lisa would find herself talking to him about almost everything. Mainly, Murphy would listen. He didn’t seem to be that much of a talker. When she asked him why he didn’t seem inclined to share personal details about himself, he just gave her a vague shoulder-shrug.
It had happened one morning, while they were standing at the cliff during their usual walk.
“I don’t know. I guess my life is not that interesting.”
Lisa cocked her head to a side.
“Really? How so?”
“I don’t know… I mean…” He scratched the soil with his boot. “I live alone, I… uh, basically have no family. I stopped traveling around the world because I’ve become grumpy and lazy… So you see, I am not that interesting after all.”
“I think you should let others have their own opinion about that,” she replied softly, all the while studying him. “For example, you wanna know mine? I think you’re very interesting. You’re smart, you’re cultured and funny… And you are such a great listener.”
He was also kinda hot, but maybe saying that out loud would be a bit uncalled for.
He blushed ever so slightly.
“I don’t know what to say. Maybe I just don’t like to talk… that much.” His gaze dropped.
“…Because you’re shy of the spotlight,” Lisa eventually mumbled, as if she was talking to herself.
It was something Michael had once said while he was onstage. She didn’t know why it had come to her mind all of a sudden. It was probably because Murphy was standing there, his hands clasped behind his back, in the same position Michael had been that day, in front of his audience. In front of that sea of people.
Murphy blinked and glanced up at her. He looked slightly taken aback.
“What?”
And just like that, an alarm went off in Lisa’s mind.
“I said… that you’re shy of the spotlight,” she repeated slowly, assessing his reaction.
He rolled his head on his shoulders and looked up at the darkening, rumbling sky. Something in his face changed. Like a mask slipping down, covering his features and most intimate thoughts.
“I just don’t like being at the center of attention.”
She didn’t wholly register his answer.
“I’m sorry… It’s just something my ex-husband once said… That he was shy of the spotlight, that is. Which was funny, given that he was practically born in the spotlight and didn’t know anything else.”
Murphy just stared at her, his eyes impenetrable.
“The husband you called by his last name? That guy?”
Lisa let out a low, dry laugh.
“No, not that guy. The other one. The good Michael… My second husband.”
The one I loved more than my own life. The one I still love.
Murphy chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, just nodding his head, studying her. Then the waves rumbled, startling them, and they both glanced at the sea.
“Lisa, look! It’s amazing, you gotta take this picture!” He stepped closer, and out of pure instinct he put one arm around her, placing his hand on her shoulder and steering her in the right direction. His other hand pointed at the waves. “There… Look at that!”
A giant whirlpool had formed in the water. White foam mixed with black waves crashing and disappearing into the depth of the sea. Everything was being swallowed up – Lisa knew that feeling. Instinctively, she raised the Reflex.
“Come on, Lise!” Murphy urged her.
When she hesitated, he stepped right behind her back and wrapped his arms around her body, covering her hands with his own and effectively aiming the lens at its target. He lowered his head, his chin almost resting on Lisa’s shoulder and placed the Reflex at eye level.
“Here,” he whispered in her ear.
Click. Click. Click.
Lisa closed her eyes, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. Almost seasick.
There was something, in Ethan’s cologne, in the way his body felt against her own. His solid chest pressed against her back. Every time he moved, his warmth came out in puffs from the heavy clothes he wore. The scent of his skin – aftershave and something else that was uniquely his, faintly reached Lisa’s nostrils and her system went into complete overload. There was something about him. Something that she recognized as familiar and yet couldn’t fully detect.
The alarm in her mind went off again, and her head started to spin. Without even realizing it, she closed her eyes and staggered slightly, leaning further into him.
Murphy’s body stiffened and he stepped back, holding Lisa steadily by the shoulders, but at arm’s length – as if he wanted to keep his distance. He then turned her around and faced her.
“Hey, you OK?”
Lisa opened her eyes and looked at him, truly looked at him for the very first time. She couldn’t find the words. For a second, she saw… she felt, so clearly… But no. It was impossible.
Abort. Abort the thought. Don’t punish yourself like that. You must stop this. It’s pure insanity.
“Lisa…?” Murphy’s voice sounded cautious, and she could tell he was studying her, his face controlled, collected, and yet worried. Wrapped in that black glove, his hand reached up and touched her forehead. “Are you gonna pass out on me?”
He swallowed, and Lisa found herself mesmerized by the movement of his Adam’s apple.
She closed her eyes briefly and then tried to shake herself off that sudden numbness. From that sudden… longing.
“No… No, I’m fine. I guess I just got dizzy for a second.”
“You sure?”
He didn’t look convinced, and she gave him a faint smile.
“Yeah… It’s OK. I’m OK.”
“Let’s head back. Gosh, girl… You’re so pale.” He grabbed her hand. “I think you should lie down for a minute.”
Lisa didn’t say anything and just let him guide her back home. She liked the feeling of his hand holding her, and yet she was afraid of his touch. For the first time, she realized how Ethan Murphy confused her. This apparently open, friendly man had an edge about him, something imperceptible and hidden that she could only guess every now and then. Something she saw, longed to see and yet was terrified to acknowledge fully.
He began to walk a step ahead of her, his grip firm, his back wide. His shoulders were slouched against the wind, the tails of his coat flapped, revealing his multi-pocket trousers and boots. Lisa observed him and wondered if what she felt for him was physical attraction and nothing else. After all, it had been such a long time since the last time she had allowed a man to make love to her.
How would have Ethan love her that way would feel? What kind of lover would he be? Would be sweet and gentle, the type of guy who would subject her to interminable sessions of slow lovemaking, making her lose her mind? Would he gruff? How would his body feel on top of hers, underneath hers?
She tried to push the feeling away, but it was way more challenging than she thought.
“You know what…” Murphy turned his head just slightly as he kept walking. “I think breakfast is the problem.”
“Breakfast is the problem?” Lisa repeated mechanically, trying to focus and, above all, to keep up with his pace. “Hey, slow down, dude!”
Murphy stopped abruptly, almost causing her bump into him.
“Yeah. I’ve never seen you have a proper breakfast. Ever.”
He looked at her, his expression serious and solemn as if he had just had a sudden epiphany. “You just drink your coffee, and then we head out. It happens every morning. Clearly, it’s not enough for you. I think you just had a blood sugar drop.”
“Oh, really? You’re quite the physician now, huh.” Lisa cocked her head.
Murphy’s eyebrows sprung up.
“Well, no, I’m no doctor, but it’s undeniable. You should eat more. You’re so tiny…” He allowed his dark eyes to look up and down Lisa’s body for a second.
“I am not tiny. I just have a fast metabolism.” She was trying to sound snarky and tough, but she knew that he was right. She didn’t eat that much. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t eaten properly in a very long time.
“Nutrition is important, you know. It’s something I take very seriously.” He frowned in an almost funny way, and this time, she snickered.
“That’s right… I can see that!”
Without even thinking, she reached out and patted his belly. She actually didn’t feel anything but Murphy’s thick coat, but the bait worked just fine because he playfully slapped her hand away.
“Hey! Cut it out! I’m not fat!”
“Who said you’re fat? Am I striking a nerve?” Lisa didn’t back off and tried to reach for him again. He jumped back.
Ethan was always so controlled, so collected – and now she was discovering that she loved pushing him on edge a little bit. And he looked like he loved to play, after all.
“Not at all. I’m just not fat. I’m strong.” He straightened his back and squared his shoulders.
“You know, that’s what men usually say when they start to get old,” she laughed.
“Oh yeah? I’ll show you old!” In a quick, unexpected gesture, he scooped her up effortlessly.
Lisa squealed in surprise and clung to him, her arms closing around his shoulders.
“Now, lady…” He looked at her seriously, his dark eyes shining behind his shades. “…We’re gonna go back home, and I’m gonna feed you properly.”
Before she had the time to reply, he resumed walking and she couldn’t help but feel another pang of desire. The wind slapped them both in the face, and she had to close her eyes. Once again, she faintly smelled his cologne and the sensorial deja-vu sneaked in from the back of her mind again.
Despite her I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude and the hard-nosed way she faced life, despite her courage and bluntness, Lisa craved protection, both on a physical and emotional level. She loved to feel safe, she wanted and needed to feel safe. She hated to be lonely, even though she longed for solitude. She was a complicated, sophisticated, fascinating woman and felt as if she had just randomly found an intricate, complex, charming man to share this portion of the road with. This present, this moment. After feeling lonely for so long.
Murphy kept his promise and insisted on feeding her.
Since Lisa’s fridge was empty except for a couple of French red wine bottles and a can of pickles, they decided to have breakfast at his place.
Lisa was surprised by his kitchen skills and smiled broadly when he put a plate and a glass in front of her. Ethan sat across the table, all the while staring at her.
“Eat and drink,” he said softly, pointing at the pancakes and the orange juice.
Lisa put a forkful in her mouth and chewed slowly, rolling her eyes back.
“Satisfied?”
She had to admit that those pancakes were delicious.
Murphy smirked.
“We’ll see. Is it good?”
“Very. You’re a man of many talents.”
“Yeah… So they say,” he joked.
“Is that how you seduce all the girls? With pancakes?” Lisa loved when he got embarrassed but, this time, her remark backfired.
“I’ve got other skills for that.” His eyes laughed behind the lens.
Lisa’s gaze dropped on the plate and she resumed eating.
“Ethan… Look… I just wanted to thank you… For taking care of me. And for this.”
She realized she had been starving… on so many levels. And that the nourishment he was granting her ran way deeper than some pancakes and orange juice.
He leaned back in the chair and interweaved his fingers in his lap.
“You’re so very welcome.”
“What about dinner?”
Murphy looked puzzled. Her question had stunned her too. It had come out a bit of out the blue.
“I don’t know. What about it?”
“Would you have dinner with me? Tonight?”
She watched him straight in the eyes, still wondering where the heck that question came from. ‘Cause sure as hell she hadn’t planned it.
He hesitated, and the change in his demeanor made her feel suddenly very stupid. Chuckling uncomfortably, she played with the food on her plate.
“Hey… It’s fine. Never mind…”
“Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you… tonight.”
Lisa’s eyes flew up at him, and he was smiling.
Lisa spent the afternoon on her own, at home. She was surprised to discover that she was nervous about the incoming dinner with Murphy. Why in the world had she invited him out, again? Was she high on something? Was that a date? With Mister Nobody, her middle-aged neighbor, of all people? And why was she so bent out of shape? What was she, fifteen and about to hold hands with her first crush?
Yeah, he’s your crush, alright. The hot daddy. The middle-aged neighbor who scooped you up bridal style and carried you around like a wicker basket for fifteen, maybe even twenty minutes straight. Don’t act all innocent. You liked it. You like the guy. There’s something familiar about him… something you can’t pinpoint, but that you’d love to find out.
Lisa felt her heartbeat starting to race. Was she attracted to Ethan Murphy? If so, why? Because of him, or because he somehow reminded her of Michael?
Her separation and divorce from Lockwood had been nasty – it still was – and she didn’t like to even think about it. Too much bitterness and too many betrayals had ruined what had once looked like a comfortable, peaceful relationship. The end of it had shown her, once again, that not all that glittered was gold: she had once believed that Lockwood was it, that he was the right man to help her through the aftermath of the burned bridges with Michael. For a while, it had even worked. Or at least, so she had believed.
Then Michael had thrown the ultimate coup de théâtre: he had died. He had dared die on her when the last thing she remembered was arguing over the phone with him. She had hung up on him, seeing red and yet sure that, in a week or two, they would be able to talk again. Like civilized people, this time. Because, with Michael, it had always been like a dog chasing his tail. Wash, rinse and repeat. For years. So many years. Certainly way, way longer than she had admitted during that interview with Oprah.
How was she supposed to admit, in front of the whole world, that their history ran much deeper and longer than people could ever believe?
Michael had died – or more precisely, had been killed – a few days after their last phone call and nothing, not a single thing in the world, could ever fix that or make up for that. Lisa couldn’t forgive Michael and, above all, couldn’t forgive herself for the way it had ended between them. No closure. Him gone. The worst-case scenario had become real.
In itself, the interview with Oprah had been one of the last nails in the coffin of her fourth marriage. During the following months, Lisa had found Lockwood watching the interview over and over again on his computer, his eyes fixed on the screen, studying the expression on her face. She knew he had realized that what he thought was dead, what he had thought had been gone for a long time, could never die.
From that point on, it had all gone downhill. The pills and the rehab being the final blow to her already shattered existence.
Of course, there were other reasons why her marriage had blown to smithereens. Money had been one of the biggest ones, and soon it had become obvious that her status and privilege had been the main reason why Lockwood was even there in the first place. For a long time, Lisa wondered why her husband had decided to stay by her side even though it was clear that she was destroyed inside, desperate like a widow over Michael. The twins were undoubtedly the primary catalyst. And for a while, he had seemed to care for her genuinely. What had going on since they had started their divorce proceedings had given her all the answers she had never been willing to hear.
Lisa shook away the cobwebs of her insecurity and took her phone from her purse. It was morning in Los Angeles, and she hoped Alecia was already up. She was, and she picked up the phone almost immediately.
“Well well, look what the cat dragged in…”
“Hello to you, Lish…” From the other corner of the world, Lisa smiled.
“Girl, I thought you had fallen off that fucking cliff. I haven’t heard from you in centuries.”
“I know.” Lisa sat down on the couch and sipped her wine. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy, how? You moved to another continent and rented a house in the middle of fucking nowhere. I remember the place, you know? There’s not a single soul around there. What were you busy doing? Hibernating like a bear?”
Lisa chuckled.
“There are no bears in Scotland, as far as I know…”
“Well, clearly they are reintroducing them since you’re there and pretty much impossible to grasp.”
“Come on, Lish… you of all people should know why I had to get away.”
“Yeah… I do. Are you OK?” All of a sudden, Alecia sounded serious.
“I don’t know,” Lisa replied honestly, and her friend stayed quiet for a moment.
“I guess it’s understandable. One day you will. On a side note, are the kids coming over?”
“They’ll all be flying over in a month. We’re gonna spend Christmas together… possibly New Year’s eve too.”
“That’s amazing. And… are you planning to come back to L.A. anytime soon?”
Now Alecia sounded concerned.
“Not for now, no…”
Lisa didn’t want to go back yet. Not only would she have to deal with the shattered glasses of her former life, but the church, too, still felt like a threat. After her first formal post-rehab appearance in the news, someone had let her know that a couple of church members had been seen rummaging in her trash, right outside her house. It had been the last straw, and she knew that they had been feeding the media with a never-ending string of bullshit… and possibly working with her ex-husband, too.
“Alight. Back to happier topics, then. What about male bears? Are they hot over there?”
Lisa snickered.
“You got a one-track mind. I told you, there are no bears here.”
“Lise, if you’re not coupling, then why the hell are you calling me? You know I’m only interested in the juicy stuff…” Oh, Alecia. She truly was too much.
“I’m calling you….” Lisa took a long breath. “…Because you’re the only one I can talk to without fear of being called crazy.”
“That’s not entirely correct. I know well that you’re nuts, I just try to ignore it. So? What’s the matter? ‘Fess up!”
“It’s about a man I’ve met.”
“See? That’s what I thought. Male bears.”
Lisa scoffed.
“Whatever…”
“No, seriously. What about him? Now I’m curious… Go on!” Lish’s interest had suddenly become evident.
“OK… hear me out for a second before you laugh in my face, OK? I’ve met this man. He’s my neighbor. His name is Ethan Murphy.”
“Yeah… I’m feeling intense anticipation now.”
“I’m having dinner with him later tonight, and there’s a part of me, a crazy, scary part of me that… that believes he’s Michael.”
She closed her eyes, realizing how absurd her words sounded.
“Uhm…”
“Lish? Are you still there?”
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you gonna say anything?”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know… something… anything…”
“OK, uhm… You think he is like… Michael, reincarnated?”
Lisa frowned. That was an odd question.
“I don’t know. I mean, no, of course. That would mean he’s like… a seven-year-old.”
“How old is he?”
“I have no idea. Fifty? Fifty-five? Hard to say.”
“Hard to say? Why?”
“I don’t know… He’s no spring chicken, but he sure looks good.” Lisa sighed.
“OK, wait a second…” Alecia cleared her throat and Lisa could almost hear her wheels turning. “Let’s start again. You’re going to have dinner with this Ethan Murphy guy, and he reminds you of Michael.”
“Yes!” Lisa exhaled. “…and not exactly.”
“Oh.”
“I know.”
“You’re not making much sense right now, Lise.”
“I know. I’m probably losing it.” She gulped down her wine and tried to focus. “The fact is… there are things about him that feel familiar somehow. There are things about him that remind me of Michael, and I’m not only talking about sensations, ’cause they’re also real… I know it’s crazy, but I don’t know how else I could explain this.”
“Have you tried asking him?”
“Have I tried asking him if he’s Michael?” Lisa made a face. “Are you nuts? Of course not.”
“Do you think Michael might be alive, Lisa?” Something in Alecia’s tone made Lisa wonder if her friend suddenly thought that she was several notes short of a symphony.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
She heard Lish take a deep breath.
“No, Lise. I don’t think you’re crazy at all. It’s been seven years. I mean… It’s not that long, and yet it’s long enough to see through the whole thing a little better. I’m sure you’re more clear-headed about Michael now that you once were. So I’m really asking… Like, I’m seriously wondering.”
“I’ve never really thought about it. I mean, I was at the funeral, I’ve seen his coffin. I’ve seen…” Lisa shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. No. She couldn’t go there. Not again. “I’ve never really thought he could be alive. Never dared. I hoped he was, but… then, with time… I just had to let it go.”
“And now you think… in the remote hypothesis that he’s alive, that he could be this man?”
“Yeah. I guess we could say that.”
“OK… so… Do you feel the pull? Does this man make you feel like Michael did?” Alecia tried to get to the point by circling the main question, like a shark.
“I’ve felt it today. And a few other times…”
“You know what? If that’s what you feel, whether you’re right or not about his identity, I think you should just go for it.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, if you like him, let him know. If you’re attracted to him, then test the waters. If you think he’s Michael, try to find out more about him. Directly or indirectly. Ask him. Put him on edge. Try to make him stumble, make him contradict himself. Best case scenario, he is who you think he is – because sure as hell Mike always was an unpredictable guy and you never know, with him. Worst case scenario, this new guy will just think you’re mental.”
Lisa laughed, ’cause her best friend sure had a way to clear the fog.
“Yeah, he probably already knows that, so…”
“Exactly. I mean… what is there to lose?”
Chapter song