The Memory Painter: A Novel Page 15

  Linz stayed by the door. Diana was projected on the wall, smiling to the camera with her hair in rollers as she got into a waiting car. The next shot jumped to a church, with Diana outside in her wedding dress.

  “It’s their wedding day,” Bryan explained needlessly.

  Linz didn’t speak. Captivated by the film, she hugged her body in a protective stance as the clicking sounds of the projector ran through the dark.

  The film jumped to the altar, where Michael waited with his best man, Doc. Beside him stood two more groomsmen—Conrad and Finn.

  “That’s my dad,” she said, feeling dazed.

  “I know.” He corrected himself, “I mean I know now.”

  Conrad moved closer to Michael and Doc. Diana walked up the aisle and took Michael’s hand.

  Linz watched the entire ceremony, and the silly moments that were captured afterward while the wedding photographer took pictures. Conrad was in every other shot. The film ended as Michael and Diana drove away in their Jeep, decorated with cans that trailed behind the car.

  “My father knew those people?” she asked, astounded.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I had no idea he was your father. I swear.”

  She stared at the blank wall where the image had been projected. The whole thing was too bizarre.

  “You’re shaking.” He took her hands.

  “No, I—”

  “It’s okay. Watching them affected me the same way.”

  “I’m not affected.” But even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie. Watching the film had filled her with the most profound ache. She wanted to cry.

  She saw how hurt Bryan was by her reaction and tried to make him understand. “Look. I’m normally a logical, methodical person. I don’t date artists or talk about past lives or contemplate anything remotely esoteric. I don’t want my life turned upside down.”

  Bryan reached out to touch her arm. “I know all of this seems crazy—especially this whole connection with your father—but don’t shut me out. Please, don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid.” Linz stepped away. “But every time I’m with you, the moment I start to get used to things, then it changes and gets weirder. I don’t know who these people are. And I don’t care. So what if my dad knew them?”

  “They were scientists who studied memory and were working on a cure for Alzheimer’s,” Bryan stressed. “They died in 1982 before we were born.”

  “And you think we were them.”

  “Yes.” Bryan’s eyes were unyielding.

  She searched his face, shaking her head sadly. “I’m afraid the ride stops here.” She was already regretting the words but she knew they had to be said. “Let’s take a break, okay?”

  Bryan gave her a little smile and brought her hand to his lips. He kissed the inside of her wrist just as he had the day they met, but he didn’t try to stop her from leaving.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Linz undressed in the dark. She felt herself sinking into a depression. The emotion felt alien to her and unstoppable. When she had walked into her condo, the place seemed empty and pointless, and for the first time the colorful puzzles on her walls looked silly. As she lay in bed, she stared into the dark at Bryan’s painting of Origenes and Juliana that now hung on her wall. She had tried keeping it in her closet, but she knew it belonged in the open. Her dream had been an albatross all her life, and yet it had brought her Bryan. Was that a good thing? She didn’t know.

  Unable to sleep, she went to her living room and stood in her garden. Enjoying the sand beneath her feet, she took the rake and smoothed the ground, erasing the design she had created two nights ago. Her body relaxed as her hands directed the rake aimlessly, letting it leave fine lines in the sand with its teeth. She worked until she grew sleepy.

  When she finished the design and went to bed, she didn’t even bother to admire the ornate symbol she had created—a symbol only the most knowledgeable Egyptian scholars in the world would have been able to identify.

  * * *

  Returning from the break room with a third cup of coffee, Linz read the e-mail that had just arrived from her father. As usual, he had kept it short: Come see me.

  She knew he wanted to discuss the party. Her sudden departure with Bryan the other night had been too strange for her father to let it slide. He would have a hundred questions, coupled with some harsh opinions, but she also had a few of her own—for starters, who were Michael and Diana Backer?

  Linz took the elevator up to the top floor, but her father was on the phone.

  He waved her in. “I’ve got five hundred million alone invested in the project. You do the math when we convert to yen.” He laughed and switched to flawless Japanese.

  Linz looked out the window while she listened to her father’s conversation. It had always amazed her that he was fluent in several languages. She had grown up hearing him speak in Japanese, French, and German. Funny how he had never tried to teach any of them to her, and she had never asked him to. What would he think if he knew she was fluent in Greek?

  She smiled to herself, imagining the look on his face. Conrad saw her and shot her a questioning look. She indicated that it was nothing and let him finish his call. They had become so attuned to each other over the years that they had developed a way of communicating without words.

  Linz had no memory of either her mother or her brother. Her father was her only family. To Conrad’s credit, he had never shipped her off to boarding school, but had tried to raise her on his own as best he could. She loved him, although sometimes his protectiveness could become overbearing. In some ways, it bordered on controlling.

  She heard him wrap up the call and turned around.

  He came over and gave her a hug. “You look tired.”

  “A little. I wanted to apologize for leaving early … and talk to you about a couple of things.”

  Conrad headed back toward his desk. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

  “Can you tell me about Michael and Diana Backer?”

  Her question had clearly caught him off guard. “Michael and Diana who?”

  Linz frowned. It was impossible that he didn’t remember them. “Dad, you were in their wedding party.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Bryan showed me their wedding video.”

  “The painter from the party?”

  “Yes, the painter that you were very rude to.”

  Conrad sat down. “What’s he doing with a film belonging to deceased people he doesn’t know?”

  “How do you know he doesn’t know them? You don’t know anything about him.”

  “Then enlighten me, please.” Conrad’s voice grew softer and more subdued. He was getting angry, but Linz wasn’t happy with the course of the conversation either.

  “His father was an old friend of theirs. Why didn’t you just say you knew them?”

  “His father was an old friend,” he repeated. “Which of course makes perfect sense. Why wouldn’t he watch their home movies? Then he comes to our house, I catch him snooping around—”

  “He wasn’t snooping.”

  “—looking sick. God knows what drugs he’s on.”

  Linz was incredulous. She could not keep her voice from rising. “He’s not on drugs!”

  “Did you check his medicine cabinet? I’m assuming you watched the film at his place.”

  “Back up. You’ve completely got the wrong impression. I just asked if you knew Michael and Diana Backer and you lied.”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “Fine, evaded the question.”

  They glared at each other, having reached an impasse. Conrad finally relented, explaining, “I don’t talk about Mike and Diana because it was a long time ago and … it’s upsetting. We went to school together. They were my best friends, just like Penelope and Derek are to you. What if you tragically lost them?” Linz’s anger deflated and she started to feel ashamed. Conrad sighed, continuing, “I can’t remember you ever
accusing me of lying to you, and I have never criticized the company you keep. What’s going on with you?”

  Linz tried to get a handle on her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean … I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

  Conrad’s concern overrode his anger. “Are you dreaming again?”

  “No. Just a little insomnia.”

  Conrad’s intercom buzzed. “Dr. Jacobs, your eleven o’clock conference call.”

  Conrad checked his watch in frustration. “Stormy, I don’t want to cut this short. Why don’t we have dinner tonight? The Bay Tower at eight.” He led Linz to the door. “We’ll talk more then.”

  She nodded and fixed her gaze on his tie, recognizing it as one she had given him. “Sorry I upset you. I still want to hear about them though, if you’re up to it.”

  “But why, honey?”

  “I can’t explain it right now. It’s complicated.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and left.

  Conrad went back to his desk, looking as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Ignoring the flashing light signaling his conference call, he picked up the phone and made another one.

  * * *

  Linz took the elevator back to the tenth floor. As she walked down the long glass corridor to her lab, she saw Dr. Parker through the window of the Genome Department. This time, when he gave her his usual friendly wave, Linz decided to stop. As she entered his lab, he turned to her with excitement, as if they were already in the middle of a conversation. “We have pinpointed the melanoma lineage specific enhancer”—he waved the printout in his hand as he continued—“with clear inducible chromatin looping!”

  Linz smiled and went with it. “The wonders of computers.”

  “Though I’m not quite sure about this Epigenomic analysis,” he said, more to himself, and turned away to study a nearby monitor. He had clearly exhausted his social skills. Linz knew other scientists with the same flaw, especially from her father’s generation. Luckily she was not similarly afflicted. A thought occurred to her.

  “Dr. Parker, did you know Michael and Diana Backer? I believe they were in your field.”

  He looked up from the monitor, startled that she was still there. “Of course. I met them through your father years ago.”

  “Because they went to med school together?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Then Conrad worked for Mike.”

  Linz nodded as if none of this was news. “Of course.”

  “He took over their research when he started this company.”

  Linz nodded again, a sense of surrealism starting to kick in. “What were they working on?”

  “A study to help enable memory retrieval in Alzheimer’s patients. I was disappointed that it was never published. It was all such a shame.”

  “Yes, I remember him talking about it. What was the project name again?” Linz prompted.

  “I’m not sure if I…” Dr. Parker paused a minute. “Ah yes, Renovo.”

  Linz hid her surprise—that was the same name Bryan had mentioned during dinner. “Right, Renovo.”

  “Over the years, I’ve asked your father on several occasions if I could take a peek at the file. But he’s always said no. Such a shame, to see their research buried in a coffin.”

  A shiver ran down Linz’s spine. She nodded, unable to speak. Dr. Parker smiled and turned back to his work.

  Linz hurried back to her lab, where she found Steve watching a video online. It took her a second to realize it was a video of him on YouTube, doing a bizarre dance-performance piece. The second he noticed her, he killed his monitor, mortified. She pretended not to see. “Steve, can you do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Get me whatever you can find on a research project named Renovo. Check NIA’s databases and our archives.”

  “What year?”

  “1982.” The year Medicor was founded—five years before she was born.

  Her cell phone rang before Steve could ask her any more questions. It was a number Linz had never seen before—it looked like an international call. She was about to answer when the call dropped. She waited to see if a voice mail would register, but nothing came.

  Linz was annoyed. She had hoped it would be Bryan. She knew she should make first contact since she’d been the one to suggest they needed a break, but still she wished he’d ignore her request and call her anyway—or better yet, show up at her door. Linz shook her head, disgusted with herself. So much for willpower.

  Frustrated, she turned off her phone and threw it in the drawer. Missing him wouldn’t accomplish anything. There was work to be done, and it just might help her ignore the feeling that simply wouldn’t go away: her life was beginning to fall apart.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Bryan hung up the airphone, not sure what he would have said if Linz had answered. He imagined how the conversation might have gone and grimaced. How could he explain his actions without driving her further away?

  He had pushed too hard when he had forced her to watch the film. The problem was that Linz remained a stranger to the memories they shared, and the farther down the rabbit hole he went without her, the more she became a stranger to him. The distance between them was growing, and the realization terrified him.

  It didn’t help that the memories from Bjarni’s life threatened to overwhelm him. After Linz had left, Bryan had stared at the ceiling for hours and then headed to the studio to paint.

  He had done one painting, but for the first time in his life his art felt like a distraction. An urgency had been building inside him ever since he’d remembered Bjarni’s life—there was something in those memories that he needed to find.

  Frustrated, Bryan had left his loft to go for a walk. The ghostly history seeping from the nooks and corners of Boston’s streets usually managed to calm him and help him connect to a past he knew was alive and breathing. But not that night.

  He had walked for hours until he’d looked up and found himself on Commonwealth Street. It was no accident. There, erected in a circular garden, was a life-size bronze statue of Leif Erikson, commemorating his explorations. Leif had found the new land just as Bjarni had instructed him and had created a settlement called “Vinland,” what was now Canada. Some had thought that Leif had explored even farther, reaching Massachusetts hundred of years before the Pilgrims.

  Bryan had stared at the statue of his old friend and been filled with a profound feeling of kinship. Leif had done it: he had reached the new land with the Gata. When Bryan had looked down at the turquoise ring on his finger, he had known he would not find the answers he sought without taking a leap of faith. Without questioning the impulse, he had gone home and booked a flight to the one place that Bjarni had wanted to go but never did.

  Now here he was on a plane. Bryan reclined his chair and stared at the seat in front of him. Was he wrong to leave Linz alone with Conrad? After all, Michael had questioned Conrad’s motives and his honesty, and the situation was even more entangled now that he knew Linz was Conrad’s daughter. Bryan would have rested easier if Linz were with him. He had even debated trying to talk her into going, but he knew the idea would have sounded insane to her. Things had been easier before, when he was the only one wondering if he was crazy.

  He stared at the airphone and tried to ease his anxiety—he should at least leave a message. Picking up the handset, he swiped his credit card again. Dialing the number from memory, he counted the rings, already assuming she wouldn’t pick up. “Linz, it’s Bryan. Just wanted you to know I’m on my way to Newfoundland … Canada … to paint.… I know it’s last minute. Sorry for what happened. Maybe the time apart will be a good breather … for you, like you said. Let’s talk when I’m back … take care.”

  He hung up, frustrated. His message hadn’t conveyed any of the things he’d wanted to say.

  The plane started to descend an hour later. Bryan’s pulse quickened as he looked out the window. Bjarni’s new land lay beneath him.

  * * *

  Linz
sat waiting at the Bay Tower Room’s best table. She had been there for twenty minutes, sipping a glass of their finest chardonnay. But the wine, along with the incredible view of Boston’s skyline, was wasted on her. She listened to Bryan’s voice mail for the third time, kicking herself for missing his call. She couldn’t believe that he’d just flown off to Canada. It brought home all of the things she didn’t know about him—what if he was seeing someone else on the side? Maybe they were on the plane together or she was waiting for him at the airport. What were Newfoundland girls even like, nature enthusiasts? Linz shook her head at herself, knowing she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t control the jealousy that was welling up inside. She deserved more than a call from an airphone after what they had been through. Why on earth had Bryan dropped everything to go there?

  “Sorry I’m late.” Her father startled her, planting a kiss on her head before he sat down. “I’m famished.” He signaled their customary waiter, who instantly appeared at their table.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Dr. Jacobs.”

  “Thank you, Richard. We’ll have the lobster bisque, Caesar salad, and the prime rib. Medium-well for the lady. My usual wine.”

  “Very good, sir.” Richard took the menu away and turned to Linz. Conrad gave Linz an expectant smile. She was about to change their order.

  Linz didn’t even glance at the menu. “Let’s make that the sea bass, steam the vegetables, and I suppose we’ll let him have the wine.”

  Their little ritual finished, Richard took her menu and left them alone.

  Linz got right to the point. “Why didn’t you tell me you worked for Michael Backer?”

  Conrad lips thinned to an angry line. He took his time unfolding his napkin, and put it in his lap before he spoke. “Where did you get that information?”

  “I spoke with Dr. Parker, who’s been trying to convince you to let him look at the Renovo project, and you won’t let him. What’s going on?”

  Conrad leaned forward and lowered his voice. “As far as the NIA’s concerned, that project was terminated after the director blew up his lab—killing himself and his wife. I refuse to let my company be associated with an experiment conducted thirty years ago that was just plain bad science. And as my daughter and the next in line to run the company, you should be more discreet about what you discuss with fellow directors.”