And if so, had he used that time to find one woman, again and again in different incarnations, to love her … or destroy her?
We pulled into a drugstore near the airport so Larry Steczynski could buy me a pair of cheap shoes, and get both Ben and me duffel bags full of whatever we wanted to pass off as luggage. Buying one-way tickets from Rio to New York and traveling without any luggage would definitely raise red flags.
As we shopped, I pushed my suspicions aside so I could act something akin to normal. I was quickly losing sight of what “normal” might be. When we arrived at the airport, Mr. Steczynski munificently used his black AmEx to treat all three of us to first-class seats on the next flight to JFK.
I had barely said two words to Sage since my discovery. I worried that he’d notice I was acting differently. I racked my brain for something natural to say to him, but by the time we got to our gate, all I’d come up with was, “So … how exactly will we get to the house if people are watching and waiting for us?”
the time we got to our gate, all I’d come up with was, “So … how exactly will we get to the house if people are watching and waiting for us?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Oh, good.” Ben nodded. “Excellent that we’re following you, then.”
“How about I call Rayna?” I said. “She can pick us up. We’ll duck down in the car so no one can see us when we drive onto the property, she’ll pull right into the garage, and we’ll be in.”
“And if someone’s waiting for us inside?” Ben asked.
“They don’t know for sure we’re coming—why would they risk breaking in?”
“I guess … ,” Ben mused.
“You have a better option?”
He didn’t. Neither did Sage. I borrowed Larry Steczynski’s cell phone to call Rayna. Personally, I never answer the phone if I don’t recognize the number. Rayna doesn’t feel the same way; she sees an unknown caller as a doorway to a possible romance.
“Hello?” she answered seductively.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Clea! Are you okay? I’ve been phone-stalking you for days. What happened? Where have you been?”
“Sorry, I lost my cell. Everything’s okay.” Wow—that was easily the biggest lie I’d ever told anyone in my life
“How okay?” she asked playfully. “Did you meet someone amazing at Carnival and get swept off your feet?”
I loved that those were the only two options for Rayna: Either something had gone horribly wrong, or I’d gotten wrapped up in a wild, whirlwind romance.
I glanced at Sage. “I did meet someone.…”
“I knew it! I want to know everything.”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“I’ve got nothing but time. Details!”
“It’s complicated. Here’s the thing, though: Ben and I are in some trouble, and it has to do with my dad.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll tell you everything, but I need a huge favor. I need you to pick us up at JFK in the morning, and I need you to please not say anything about us coming. I know it sounds crazy, but I think there might be people watching the house and waiting for us to show up.”
“Really? I haven’t seen anything.”
“Good. Hopefully I’m wrong. Can you do it?”
“Of course. Be careful.”
“I promise.” I gave her our flight information, and we hung up. I glanced over at Ben and Sage. Whatever camaraderie they’d found over Sage’s art and literature collection hadn’t lasted. It seemed the reality of Sage coming to Ben’s turf was too much for Ben to take, and they now sat next to each other, facing forward, without acknowledging each other, absolute stones. I imagined the twelve-hour trip ahead of us, me playing buffer between the two of them even as I struggled to deal with my own suspicions about Sage. I was exhausted just thinking about it. I decided to wander the terminal stores, and grinned as I found the perfect thing.
I waited until we were on the plane before I showed off my purchase.
“Cribbage!” I declared, pulling out the board, a deck of cards, and pen and paper, “Ben and I are going to teach you. Then we can all play.”
“What makes you think I don’t know how to play cribbage?” Sage asked.
“You do?” Ben sounded surprised.
“I happen to be an excellent cribbage player,” Sage said.
“Really … because I’m what one might call a cribbage master,” Ben said.
“I bet I’ve been playing longer than you,” Sage said, and I cast my eyes his way. Was he trying to tell us something?
“I highly doubt that,” Ben said, “but I believe we’ll see the proof when I double-skunk you.”
“Clearly you’re both forgetting it’s a three-person game, and I’m ready to destroy you both,” I said.
“Deal ’em,” Ben said.
Being a horse person, my mother was absolutely convinced she could achieve world peace if she just got the right parties together on a long enough ride. I didn’t know about that, but apparently cribbage might do the trick. The three of us were pretty evenly matched, and Ben was impressed enough to ask Sage how he learned to play. Turned out Sage’s parents were historians, he said, so they first taught him the precursor to cribbage, a game called noddy.
“Really?” Ben asked, his professional curiosity piqued. “Your parents were historians? Did they teach?”
“European history. In Europe,” Sage said. “Small college. They taught me a lot.”
Yep, there was the metaphorical gauntlet. I saw the gleam in Ben’s eye as he picked it up. “Interesting,” he said. “So you’d say you know a lot about European history?”
“I would say that. In fact, I believe I just did say that.”
Ben grinned, and immediately set out to expose Sage as an intellectual fraud. He’d ask questions to trip Sage up and test his story, things I had no idea were tests until I heard Sage’s reactions.
“So which of Shakespeare’s plays do you think was better served by the Globe Theatre: Henry VIII or Troilus and Cressida?” Ben asked, cracking his knuckles.
“Troilus and Cressida was never performed at the Globe,” Sage replied. “As for Henry VIII, the original Globe caught fire during the show and burned to the ground, so I’d say that’s the show that really brought down the house … wouldn’t you?”
“Nice … very nice.” Ben nodded. “Well done.”