Friends and Lovers

Chapter 3: Friends and Lovers

By the time two more weeks had passed, there was no doubt in my mind that Remus and I were in love. He never told me in so many words, but his tender actions spoke volumes. If anything, I had the distinct impression that he was trying not to confess his feelings to me. This restraint was also accompanied by an almost fierce longing in his eyes - not the sexual longing I expected to see, but what seemed like a desperate desire to tell me the secrets he withheld.

For my part, I avoided asking him questions about his life, past and present. Whenever he told me he had a meeting with his co-workers, I took it at face value. Without thinking one day, I asked where they met and was told that they usually convened at someone's house. Out of idle curiosity I inquired if the newspapers mentioned anything about the 'criminal element' his group was fighting. I figured that while Remus needed to be skimpy on details, the Times might at least give me a general picture. I was rewarded with a wry smile and told that most newspapers were unlikely to cover the story.

Towards the middle of July, I planned a picnic for the two of us. The weather was warm and the sky was blue, and we'd found a perfect grassy spot in the park to unfurl the picnic blanket. Children played nearby, people walked their dogs, and it was just a lovely day in general. Remus, who'd shown himself to be attentive to a fault during the three weeks I'd known him, seemed unusually quiet. When I failed to get any response after commenting three times on a rambunctious terrier frolicking nearby, it was clear that Remus' attention was elsewhere. Finally I asked him about it.

"Sorry." Remus flashed me a look of regret. "My mind was wandering, I'm afraid."

"Your job?" I guessed.

He smiled ruefully. "No, it's not that. I realized this morning that it's been exactly a month since my friend Sirius was killed."

"Oh. Today must be very difficult for you," I commented sympathetically, but inwardly I was wondering about his use of the word 'killed'. When Remus told me about his good friend Sirius Black on one of our early dates, he'd merely said that the man had recently died. If Black was killed, was it accidental or intentional? "Look, if you want to forget the picnic, I'd understand. We could just pack everything up and head home."

"I won't hear of it, Kailin. You went to a lot of trouble, and it's a beautiful day. I'll try to cheer up, I promise."

I couldn't help but laugh at his earnestness. "Remus, you can't pretend that everything is fine when it's not."

"I know. But that's no reason to spoil your day." Remus put down the chicken leg he'd been toying with and stretched out on his side, propping up his head with one hand.

"It's not spoiled," I said, dismissing his apology with a wave of my hand. "You could never spoil my day. Besides, when you lose someone you care about, you just don't get over it right away."

"No. You don't."

He almost looked as if having someone empathize with him was a rare event. It started me thinking about Gran Marvy's death earlier in the year. I opened my mouth to comment on my own issues in dealing with the death of a loved one, but Remus spoke up first.

"He'd barely begun to live again, you know?"

He meant Sirius, I assumed. Remus had never given me the specifics about his friend. It appeared he was about to.

"In what way?" I prompted gently.

"He was imprisoned for twelve years for a crime he didn't commit."

"That's terrible. It must have been dreadful for both of you."

Remus stared past me at the traffic swirling past the park's perimeter. "The unfortunate thing is, I didn't know he was innocent until two years ago, which meant I'd thought the worst of him all that time."

"What crime was he accused of?"

"Murder."

"Murder? Whose?" I was stunned, to be honest. I imagined the late Sirius Black being put away for mail fraud or something else vaguely victimizing. Remus Lupin did not seem the kind of man to consort with suspected murderers, guilty or not.

Remus had the Look on his face, the one that said There's So Much I Want To Tell You But I Can't. I was becoming quite familiar with it. "It was a couple we knew from school. Along with a dozen or so bystanders," he added with a pained smile.

Multiple murders? I was truly taken aback now, but tried not to show it. "So they finally found the real murderer?"

"Yes," he said softly. "We found out who did it."

I waited for more information, but Remus was silent. "You said Sirius was killed. How did he die?"

There was the Look again, then a faint smile. "He fell."

"Then it was an accident?"

The expression on Remus' face was one of infinite sadness. "No. It was no accident."

There was surely much, much more to the story, but I sensed that I was treading on extremely private ground. I was casting about for a delicate way to change the subject when he abruptly climbed to his feet and dusted off his pants.

"Look, maybe you're right. Perhaps we should just call it a day. This has to be depressing for you, Kailin, listening to me prattle on about my woes."

I smiled and shook my head, starting to put lids on bowls and put things away. "I don't mind listening, Remus. But I do get the impression you'd rather be alone today."

"You're right, I think. Look..." He knelt down again and began to help me gather up the food. "I'll be unavailable for a few days. But I promise, as soon as I get back, I'll ring you up. In fact, why don't we make a date for Wednesday night?"

"Wednesday it is," I agreed. "You know, I've been wanting to make a little side trip into France. I can do that while you're gone."

We finished repacking the lunch, folded up the picnic blanket and started for home. Remus saw me to my door, then enfolded me into his arms. It was the usual restrained embrace, but I made sure to get in an extra squeeze or two to let him know that I meant it.

"Thank you," he murmured. "For letting me ramble on out there, I mean."

I smiled into his shoulder. "My pleasure. Tell me, would Sirius have liked me?"

Remus chuckled, a low rumble into my ear. "Are you joking? He would have loved you. In fact, I would probably have had to fight him for you."

"I've never had men fighting over me before. It might have been fun. As long as you won, of course," I added.

He stepped back, and the look of longing in his eyes - real longing for me, not the regret for keeping unrevealed secrets - took my breath away. But as always, Remus merely gave me a parting smile and took his leave.

* * *

Having seen so much of Remus over the past three weeks, I assumed that I would enjoy my solo trip to France. Instead, the opposite was true. I found myself wanting to tell Remus about the sights I'd seen and the shops I'd visited, and I puzzled again that he was not reachable by phone. It seemed only natural that someone working with issues of safety and security should have a mobile phone. I did; I'd bought one when I was assigned to the Miami inner city hospital, and it made me feel better to feel connected to help at the push of a button. But Remus had said he had no phone, mobile or otherwise, and that was that. I would have to wait until I returned to London in a few days to share my experiences with him.

As I lay in bed in my Paris hotel, I found myself unable to sleep. I missed Remus, I had a headache, and the heavy drapes at the window of my room didn't quite meet all the way, allowing bright light from the full moon to shine directly onto my pillow.

I got up and padded to the bathroom, downed a couple of aspirin, then fought once more with the draperies. They seemed to have a mind of their own, but I finally held them shut with a chair pushed against the window sill.

I climbed back into bed and waited for the aspirin to take effect, pleased that I'd finally got the best of the silly curtains.

And I wondered what Remus Lupin was doing this night.

* * *

I was barely back in my London flat for five minutes Wednesday afternoon when Remus called.

"I missed you," I told him at once, dropping into the chair next to my telephone. "Paris was nice, but it would have been a lot more fun if you were there."

"Wish I could have gone," Remus said wistfully.

"I'll tell you all about it tonight. What time are you coming by?" Just hearing his voice on the phone brought a broad smile of anticipation to my face, and I couldn't wait to see him this evening.

"That's why I called. I'm afraid something's come up. We have an emergency meeting tonight, so I won't be able to make it."

Disappointment flooded over me in waves. "Oh. Well, that's all right. I understand."

"I hate not seeing you," Remus said quickly. "Really. I wish I didn't have to cancel."

"No, it's all right. You do what you have to do."

"What about tomorrow? Could we get together then?"

"Of course."

We set a time to meet tomorrow, and I tried to tell myself that waiting one more day to see Remus wouldn't kill me in the long run. I would be mature about this, even though I'd been on the verge of succumbing to the giddiness that comes with being in love.

Tonight's cancellation was distressing in another way: I now had no reason to put off cleaning and doing my laundry. I was always ready to avoid these chores, but without Remus in the picture, there was little excuse for procrastination. It was with a distinct lack of enthusiasm that I emptied out my travel bag and put a load of wash in the flat's washing machine. I was also hungry, but there was little to be found in my refrigerator since I'd been gone four days.

"Great. Thanks a lot, Remus," I muttered aloud. I'd have to add grocery shopping to my list.

I know the old maxim about never shopping on an empty stomach, but there was little else I could do unless I wanted to live on granola bars for another day or so. I headed off to the grocery, trying virtuously to load my basket with a fruit or vegetable for every piece of junk food that caught my eye. Standing in line to pay, I glanced over the magazines and newspapers on sale and added today's edition of the Times to my pile of goodies, thinking that I might as well catch up on what was happening in the world.

An hour later I'd eaten a turkey sandwich, downed a cupcake, and was on my second load of laundry. There was still that pesky cleaning to be done, but I decided to delay that a bit longer in favor of reading the paper. And so I curled up on the sofa with the comics and the editorials and the news of the world and tried to forget all about dust bunnies and Remus Lupin.

'Mid-East Peace Accord Hits Snag'... Well, what else was new, I wondered; I could probably pick up any newspaper from the last twenty years and see the same headline. 'Football Fans Outraged at Officiating Scandal'... I would leave that article for the true sports fans. 'Couple Found Dead, No Signs of Foul Play'... I sighed. There was no escape from violence, it seemed. I began to read.

A couple was found dead last evening in their Wentworth, Sussex home. According to local police, the bodies of Edward and Constance Creevey were discovered by their sons, fifteen-year-old Colin Creevey and thirteen-year-old Dennis Creevey around eight p.m. There were no signs of forced entry to the house and no evidence of foul play. Autopsies are scheduled to be performed today in order to establish a cause of death. Police Officer, Derek Daily, told reporters that suicide has not been ruled out as a cause of death. A neighbor, Donald Rutgers, told investigators of seeing a strange greenish glow in the vicinity, although it is not clear whether the two events are related.

In a similar case two weeks ago, a Hillerton, Leicestershire man was found dead by a family member...

What a shame, I thought, moving on to an article about a bootleg video sting. Why would a couple decide to kill themselves, knowing that their children would find their bodies? It seemed an unspeakably selfish act. As for the green glow, I had no idea what to make of that.