The Mirror Man, стр. 40
“Good,” the clone said as he unlocked the door with some degree of difficulty. “I mean, come on, Diana. Two hundred and twenty dollars for dinner? For two people? For that price, they should have had someone cutting my steak and putting every bite in my mouth for me!”
“It’s our anniversary,” Diana said, her voice softening in volume if not in pitch. “Don’t you think we can afford to have one nice dinner on our anniversary without you complaining about the cost?”
“It’s ridiculous. And that was without a full bottle of wine.”
“Jeremiah,” she said. “Nice things cost money. That’s just the way it is. I hope you gave that poor waiter a decent tip. God knows he earned it.”
“I gave him the customary fifteen percent.”
“Honestly, Jeremiah. In a place like that, customary is more like twenty percent. You really are uncouth sometimes, aren’t you?”
“Am I supposed to answer that?” the clone sneered. “Or was that a rhetorical question? Sometimes I’m too uncouth to know the difference.”
“Can we just get home in one piece, please. I have to work early in the morning.”
“Of course you do,” the clone said, venom slipping into his tone. Jeremiah leaned back, exhaling. He was really walking on thin ice now. He’d do better to just stop talking and drive.
“He is definitely not getting lucky tonight,” Brent said.
Jeremiah could have told him that three hours ago, before they’d even left the house.
“Remind me next year,” Diana said to the clone, “that we should just stay home and have pizza on our anniversary.”
“Will do,” the clone said. “Sounds good to me.”
The remainder of their ride home was silent, except for intermittent stifled huffs coming from Diana. At first, Jeremiah thought she might be crying, but her indirect glances at the clone held more anger than anything else. She was seriously pissed, Jeremiah thought, and then decided he didn’t blame her.
“Happy anniversary,” the clone muttered when they pulled into the garage. He stopped the engine, got out of the car and was halfway into the kitchen before Diana had even unbuckled her seat belt.
Chapter 20
Day 106
Charles Scott did not often visit Jeremiah after-hours. When he did, he certainly never bothered to wait at the door until Jeremiah invited him inside. So, when he did just that, after eleven one night, Jeremiah was more than a little surprised. The encounter was made more awkward by the fact that he’d been practicing IF in his underwear again and hadn’t bothered to fetch his pants before Scott opened the door.
“Forgive me for the late hour, Mr. Adams,” he said, a slightly arched eyebrow his only obvious opinion on Jeremiah’s attire. “Something has happened, and I wanted to be sure you heard it firsthand before tomorrow’s viewing.”
Jeremiah stood up, intending to go to the bedroom to retrieve some clothes, but Scott put a hand up to stop him.
“What is it?” Jeremiah asked, suddenly alarmed.
“Perhaps you should sit.” Scott motioned toward the couch. Jeremiah stared at him and remained standing. Scott sat down and inhaled deeply.
“What is it?” Jeremiah asked again. “Is it Parker? Diana?”
“Your wife and son are fine, Mr. Adams,” Scott said uneasily. “But I’m afraid your mother has passed away. It happened just over an hour ago. The clone hasn’t even been notified yet, but I thought you should know as soon as possible. I’m very sorry.” He looked at him with an expression that was difficult to read, but leaned more toward curious than sorry, as though he was studying his reaction.
Jeremiah half sat and half wilted onto the couch.
“What happened?”
“They’re still looking into it,” Scott told him, “but it appears that she may have been given another patient’s medication.”
“What? I don’t understand. How could something like this happen? Why wasn’t anyone watching her? How the hell do they mix up her medication in a nursing home?”
“There is also the possibility that it might have been intentional on her part,” Scott said.
“No. Impossible. My mother would never do that.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Scott said, “but didn’t the doctor mention he’d seen signs of depression under the Meld?”
The Meld. Suicide. A shiver ran up Jeremiah’s spine. Could his own mother be the latest victim of Meld?
Scott stared at him quietly as if waiting for him to speak, but Jeremiah said nothing. He just sat with the knowledge for a moment more, letting it sink in. He was his mother’s only surviving family. There would be arrangements to make, he knew, and it would be up to him to see to that. Financially, there was little left to do. He had taken care of all that years ago, but there would be a funeral and other loose ends. He didn’t know where to start.
She had often tried to initiate a conversation with him about this very topic, from the time he was in high school, and he had always refused to discuss it. It had seemed morbid to him, and premature. He hadn’t wanted to think about it and was always put off by the casual way she’d just start talking about it, as though her own death really wasn’t that big of a deal.
“Oh, Jeremiah, everybody dies,” she told him. “If we thought we’d be around forever no one would ever do anything. Life is short. Knowing that is what keeps you going. But I want to make sure you know what to do with me when the time comes. I don’t want to end up somewhere in the middle of nowhere, buried next to people I don’t even know.”
He had told her to write it all down. She very likely had and, hopefully, it was somewhere in her personal belongings. Someone at the home would know.
“I’ll need to speak to the nursing home,” Jeremiah told Scott, “as soon as possible.”
“I am afraid that will not be permissible, Mr. Adams.”
“Excuse me?”
“We cannot allow any contact whatsoever with the outside world,” Scott said. “You know the rules. We’ve been through this.”
“But under the circumstances, you have to allow