Page 57 of The Keeper
I nod, knowing her heart will always be in the right place. Her pause leads me to assume she’s trying to figure out how to word something delicately.
“It’s about what Jeremy said to you… about the whole ‘institutionalization’ thing.” She stops again. “Is there a concern there for you? I mean, at all?”
Before I can say anything, she powers forward.
“Don’t get me wrong. Every person is entitled to their bit of insanity. You’ve seen me at some pretty low points, and I wouldneverjudge someone just for experiencing theirs. I just want to make sure you think about it all, and decide what it is you need to know moving forward. I mean, there’s a difference between having one episode of madness after a horrible experience, and being literally psychotic. Just make sure you don’t get yourself wrapped up in something you aren’t capable of handling. You’ve already got enough mental instability around you with your dad. You don’t need to take on someone else’s mess too.”
My heart warms at her words, so carefully articulated and willing to support me while still making sure I’m able to see something important.
“I appreciate the concern, Char, I really do. But I don’t think Mack isactuallyinsane. I think Jeremy was playing it up to get me to cut him out of my life, which I don’t think is fair. Regardless, I’m sure it’s something we will talk about eventually. But I don’t want to be so crass as to walk up to him and just say,hey, my brother said you’re a fuckin’ nut job and that you were in the looney bin. Let’s chat about that over ice cream. It’s something he’ll need to bring up in his own time.”
She nods and reaches over to squeeze my hand. I’m content in that moment, just the two of us watching Jeremy and his teammates running around on the field. My brother cares about me, my best friend wants me to be safe and happy, and I have an amazing guy who I can’t stop thinking about.
And apparently, Charlie can’t stop thinking about him either.
“So, seriously. When are you going to bang him in the locker room?”
Chapter Eleven
Letting out a sigh of boredom, I look across the library to where Thomas is standing in an aisle of books, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then I look longingly at the exit, as if daydreaming about packing up and rushing out the door will make this endless day finally end.
We’ve been here for nearly two hours already, and I don’t think we’ve even gotten close to feeling like we have the right type of outline put together for our project. It’s been difficult to lay everything out when we haven’t even begun the prep work for ourindividualpapers and presentations yet.
We have the majority of the semester to work on them because they’re supposed to be extensive, comprehensive projects about one author and their impact on literature in a larger context. Realistically, if we want Professor Markson to accept our dual-proposal, we need to have a well processed outline that is in sync with the proposals we will have for our individual projects.
But we’re struggling to make the outline without any real concrete decisions about what should be leadingupto the outline.
I sigh again and flick my eyes to the book in front of me, where I’ve been mindlessly flipping pages when I should be scanning the text for passages to mark.
“Found it!” Thomas plops into the seat across from me, big grin on his face. “I knew it was there. It was just filed in the wrong spot.”
I force a smile.
“Awesome. I was surprised when you said the digital copy wasn’t in the school’s database. You’d think everyuniversity would have access to the same one.”
“I know, right?” He flips the old book open on the table, amidst the handful of other books we’ve pulled so far that address the literary relationship and friendship between Edith Wharton and Henry James.
We spend about thirty minutes sorting through books and articles, marking important passages with sticky notes and typing up our ideas for how our projects might intertwine.
“You know what I think is so great about these two?” Thomas says suddenly, startling me away from the page I’m looking at. “They’re not some stereotypical mentor/mentee romance, you know?”
My brow furrows as I look at Thomas, trying to understand where he’s going with this line of thought.
“Okay, so James is this amazing, well-known author who made it clear that he was a bachelor for life. This beautiful young thing becomes his mentee. They have this amazing friendship and impact each others’ work significantly, right?”
I nod.
“It would have been so easy for something to happen there, you know? Similar interests, creative minds. I mean, I know she was married, but shit like that happens, and didn’t she end up having an affair with some other guy? Everything we can find about Edith and Henry indicates they were invested in each other, just not romantically. I like that their relationship is a passionate friendship and sharing of the minds without making it into something that takes away from their work. It seems more special that way. I feel like a romantic entanglement would have potentially taken away from what they accomplished together.”
I smile slightly.
“I’d never thought of it like that. I guess you’re right.” I grab my pen and tap it lightly on the pad of paper in front of me. “I think it’s easy to assume a shared interest or similar passions will eventually make friendships lead to a romantic relationship. But you need a lot more than that. Do you think that’s a valuable piece to play into the outline?”
Thomas nods and twiddles his own pen between his fingers.
“Yeah. Yeah.” He pauses, looking off to a spot just off the side of my head. “But I mean, shared interests are a good thing, too.”
I squint my eyes at him slightly, unsure what he means. We’d just established that there was value in the fact that the Wharton/James relationship was strictly friendship, and he immediately starts back-tracking? Before I can ask, Thomas clears his throat slightly and leans forward, continuing to fiddle with his pen and looking at the table where the books are laid out.
