“But what?” Jimmy asked.
I put my hand to the glass display that held a fragmented stone sculpture of a king’s face, nothing left of his eyes or head.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “It feels different. Like that part of me that was obsessed with Egypt is gone now.”
I couldn’t describe it any further until we headed to the Sackler wing and stood in front of the Temple of Dendur that had been moved from Egypt, brick by brick, across the Atlantic and reassembled here.
I expected my breath to be stolen away at the sight of the temple and the two huge statues that sat guard over it. But I shivered and rubbed my arms.
“A tomb.”
Jimmy glanced down at me.
“It’s not,” I said. “That’s a sanctuary, not a tomb, but the amnesia… That’s what it felt like. A tomb, and Blue Ridge was the pyramid in which all things I needed for life were stored. But it wasn’t life. This is life, and I don’t need the pyramid anymore. I’m free.”
We stood side by side in front of the monument. I inhaled through my nose and let it out.
“Okay,” I said, slipping my hand into Jimmy’s. “I’m ready to go.”
We headed to the Leonardo Da Vinci exhibit and stayed until we’d seen as much as I felt Jimmy could take before he grew bored—and we headed back into the brilliant sunshine, and the space between us didn’t seem so far anymore.
“Item number two on my list,” I said. “Have a picnic in Central Park, then walk across the Bow Bridge. I’m starved.”
“How about a hot dog?” Jimmy asked with a nod at a vendor on the street a little way from the museum.
“I am in desperate need of a hot dog.” I gasped, and I gripped Jimmy’s arm, staring at him with wide eyes. “That’s what she said.”
He smirked. “Let me guess. The Office?”
“I’ve been waiting two years to say that,” I said. “My life is complete.”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on, woman. Let’s go get you a hot dog.”
We bought two hot dogs, two lemonades and two little bags of chips, and took them to a bench shaded by a huge oak tree to eat.
After we ate, Jimmy balled up his napkin. “I think I need seconds.”
“I’m on the job,” I said, jumping to my feet.
“No, I got it.”
“Not this time.” I kissed his cheek. “B-R-B.”
I came back with another hot dog for him, extra mustard and relish, like his first.
“Shit, I forgot napkins.”
“Thea, wait. I’ll go.”
“Nope. You’re eating.”
I went back to the vendor, practically skipping with happiness and returned with a pile of napkins.
“Here you go,” I said, plopping back down on the bench beside him. I took a swig of my lemonade. “God, today could not be more perfect.”
Jim hadn’t touched his second hot dog. I gave him a quizzical look and he turned his gaze away, to the park in front of us.
“What’s next?” he asked. “Bow Bridge?”
I nodded. “It’s one of the most photographed landmarks in New York. So beautiful and romantic.” I nudged his arm. “And if you’re totally done with paintings and pretty bridges, tonight we can go to… I don’t know. WrestleMania or something.”
He didn’t smile but got up and gave his uneaten food to a homeless man sitting on a nearby bench.
“He needed it more,” he said, answering my look.
“Okay.”
It was a sweet gesture, but that heaviness was in his eyes again.
We walked to Bow Bridge, the graceful arch spanning The Lake and crossed its length along with a dozen other tourists.
“We don’t have one photo of us together,” I said, fishing my phone out of my backpack. “It’ll be the first on this phone since the accident. I think that’s fitting. My old life right alongside the new with nothing in between.”
We moved close together, and I held the phone up, turned the cracked screen around to capture us, the green waters of The Lake, and New York City rising behind the treetops beyond that.
“Say cheese doodles,” I said, my throat threatening to close on me. Hearing the tears in my voice. Jimmy turned to me just as I snapped the pic.
I opened it back up and we leaned in to examine it.
“Not very cheery. I’m obviously about to cry and you’re looking at me.” I shook my head, swallowed. “You’re looking at me with so much…”
The words fell apart. Jimmy pulled me to him.
“I never used to cry this much,” I said against his chest. “Or maybe I did. But not for so many intense emotions. Horrible grief and pure happiness, both.”
We stood for a few minutes on the bridge, our arms wrapped around each other. Jimmy still didn’t say a word.
I sniffed and glanced at our photo one more time.
“I’ve taken better. Although the tears in my eyes make them really blue.”
“You’re blue and gold, like that painting,” Jimmy said. “Nothing’s more beautiful than the way the sunlight touches you.”
Before I could answer, he pulled me back to him and kissed me hard. Fiercely. Almost possessively. My eyes fluttered open to see his eyes shut tight, his brows furrowed as if kissing me caused him pain.
“Damn, Jimmy,” I searched his face as I caught my breath back. “What is going on with you today?”
“Nothing.”
“That kiss was not nothing.”
“Let’s get to the hotel and I’ll kiss you like that again.”
“You’re trying to change the subject with promises of sex. It’s not going to work.”
He cocked his head.
“Okay, it’s working a little.” I slipped back into his arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Thea,” he said in nearly the same tone he’d told me he’d pay for breakfast. “Let’s go.”
His mood swings between brooding and grouchy, to romantic and considerate were driving me crazy, but I decided to bite my tongue until we were alone in our room.
“The ArtHouse,” Jimmy said, reading the marquee. “Of course.”
“It’s kind of my theme,” I said with a grin.
The room was cozy and clean and had a partial view of the park.
And a king-sized bed.
“Oh my God, we are going to have so much sex on this bed,” I said, kicking off my sandals and jumping up and down on the king-sized mattress. “Come here, Jimmy.”
I suddenly needed to hold him, he seemed so far away. He moved to where I stood on the mattress and wordlessly slid his arms around my waist. He kissed my middle, breathing hotly through the thin cotton of my shirt. I wrapped my arms around his head, holding him close, raking my fingers through his hair.
“You’re a good man. I want to be a good woman for you.”
“You are,” he said gruffly.
I shook my head. “I’m going to take care of you,” I said, trailing my hands over his shoulders and down his chest. “You’ve taken care of me for months, and now it’s my turn.”
He stiffened in my arms.