Time Off for Good Behavior (30 page)

He held up some Osgiliath
’
s bags.
“
Just a little Christmas shopping.
”

“
Oh. Well. Good.
”

Our eyes locked. I could see the question
s on his face.
Why did you run out? Why haven
’
t you called? Didn
’
t you know I was worried? Can
’
t you see that I care?
He didn
’
t say any of that, though. He only smiled that Jimmy Stewart smile and nodded toward my costume.

“
I like your new look.
”

“
Yeah, we
ll, you know...
”
I cringed at my rambling and attempted to redeem myself by resting my elbow on the desk and my chin on my hand, the way I
’
d seen a thousand cool supermodels do in magazines. Of course, since I was staring at Walter, my elbow missed the des
k by a full inch and my forehead came cracking down on the computer keyboard.

Take me now, God,
I thought
. Lightning bolt, aneurysm, alien abduction. Be creative. I
’
ll be waiting.

Walter was at my side in a second, kneeling before me, his hands on my shoul
ders.
“
Are you okay?
”

“
I
’
m fine,
”
I said, slapping on a tight smile.
“
Great. Never better.
”

He reached up to touch my head where it had collided with the keyboard. I instinctively pushed his hand away.

“
Oh, let me look, you big baby,
”
he whispered. He smoo
thed my hair away from my face and inspected my forehead. His face was so close to mine that I could smell his aftershave. I was right. He did smell good.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

He smiled and moved back, smoothing my hair again before pulling his hand away.
“
I think you
’
ll survive.
”

I stuck my tongue out at him and made a face.
“
Told ya.
”
He stood up and grabbed my hand to help me up. I looked around desperately to see if any kids had suddenly materialized to save me from myself. They hadn
’
t.

“
Is this your new
gig?
”
He looked around, a soft smile on his lips as he checked out the Station.
“
Looks like fun.
”

“
Yeah,
”
I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“
Yeah. I... I own it. Actually.
”

Walter smiled.
“
You own it? No kidding. Really?
”

“
No kidding, really. Bought
it with Edgar Dowd
’
s cash, as a matter of fact.
”

He smiled.
“
I
’
m glad you put it to good use.
”

There was an awkward silence.
Still waiting on that lightning bolt, God. Tick-tock.

“
So,
”
Walter said after a bit,
“
do you still see Elizabeth?
”

I nodded, my ey
ebrows knitting.
“
Yeah. Don
’
t you?
”

He shrugged.
“
Not recently.
”

“
Why not?
”
I laughed.
“
Did Jack finally drop that stupid lawsuit?
”

Walter didn
’
t say anything. I felt my chin drop.

“
Jack dropped the lawsuit? Are you kidding?
”

Walter hesitated, then gave me
a careful smile.
“
I actually can
’
t say. Attorney-client privilege and all. But... if you and Elizabeth are close...
”

I nodded.
“
Yeah, we
’
ve gotten close.
”

“
Well, then maybe you could ask her about it.
”

“
Okay,
”
I said.
“
I will.
”

He nodded. Another awkward
silence. I glanced at the books surrounding us and had a brief and unsettling vision of what I
’
d do there if Walter and I were really alone. When I looked back, Walter was still looking at me. I smiled.
“
Well, it
’
s about time for me to close up shop.
”

Walt
er put his hand on my arm, pulled me over, and kissed me on the cheek.
“
It was good to see you again, Wanda.
”

There were a million appropriate responses to that. I could have said,
“
Nice to see you.
”
Or,
“
Yeah, it was great, let
’
s get coffee sometime.
”
I c
ould have even told him about the stickies on my wall and how I
’
d vowed to avoid him until I
’
d cleared them all away, until I
’
d done something meaningful and made myself worthy.

Instead, I said nothing. Walter
’
s lips tightened and he gave a stiff smile and
he walked away not having the slightest idea that my heart was still
boom-boom-booming
as I watched him go.

Chapter Nine

Chattanooga is a two-hour drive from Hastings. In mid-December, it
’
s a gray drive, mostly highway through back country and farmland. It gave me lots of time to think about turning around and going back, crumpling up the
Talk to Molly
note and throwing it away, and who would ever know the difference?

Unfortunately, I would
. That kept me going, because if I didn
’
t face Molly again, then I wouldn
’
t move forward, and if I didn
’
t move forward, then I would never see Walter again.

And that was not an option.

Molly
’
s house was at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was white. Had a picke
t fence. A picture so perfect it almost seemed a shame for me to bring myself into it. I pulled my car up in front of a house two doors away and got out, heading down the sidewalk toward Molly
’
s new life. There were two cars in the driveway. It occurred t
o
me she might have gotten married. Her last name was still Zane in the phone book, but many women did that these days. I glanced around the property. There was no sign of kids. As I walked up to the front door, I stepped around two signs of a very big dog,
and I remembered Molly once saying something about wanting a dog.

I rang the doorbell and waited. There was no answer. I stepped back Although it would have made sense to call first, I hadn
’
t, just assuming shed be home waiting for me to make my grand ent
rance back into her life. I turned around and scanned the quiet neighborhood, since the evidence suggested she was probably out walking the dog. I situated myself on the front porch and waited, hugging my knees to my chest to conserve my body heat.

I stare
d out at the neighborhood and imagined what Molly would look like now. Her face would be full and flush. Her hair would still be long and red. Her dog would be a Lab. Her husband would be a doctor.

And there would be no residual scars, physical or mental,
from the time that my ex-husband busted her face in. Hey, if you
’
re gonna fool yourself, fool yourself big.

My heart rate quickened as I thought about what I
’
d brought back into her life. I wish I
’
d used the drive to plan something to say when I finally sa
w her, instead of distracting myself with my Billy Joel CDs. I figured I
’
d just wing it, come out with a quick apology, and be on my way back to Hastings with one less sticky note on my mind. But what do you say to someone after you dig a big ditch throug
h
their road to recovery? How do you make up for that?
Hey, Molly, I knitted you a sweater. Goes with your eyes. All
’
s forgiven about that time I fucked up your life, right? Greeeeaaaaaaat.

Down the road, two women were hand in hand, walking a dog. One of t
hem was tall with long blonde hair. The other had short red hair. Real short. And she looked about thirty pounds lighter than the Molly I
’
d known. I squinted and stepped forward.

Oh my God,
I thought.
I turned Molly into a lesbian.

Molly and her girlfriend
let the dog off his leash, and he came bounding toward me. Molly paused for a moment and slowed her pace as she noticed me standing on their front stoop, then hurried after the dog. The dog was a huge Great Dane and possibly the most laid-back animal I
’
d
ever seen. He gave me a quick sniff and circled me once, seeming to approve my existence in his space. Then he walked over to lift his leg on the fence. I looked at him.

“
What, they didn
’
t just take you out for that?
”

He threw a glance at me, and I swear h
e shrugged.

“
Wanda?
”
Molly stood about five feet from me, staring. The blonde was another ten feet back, not looking as approving of my existence in her space as the dog had been.

“
Molly. Hi.
”

After a moment, she smiled. I saw tears form in her eyes. She s
tepped forward and gave me a hug.

“
It
’
s good to see you,
”
she said. She sounded like she meant it. That had to be good, right?

I hugged her back and then took a step toward the blonde, holding my hand out to her.
“
Hi. I
’
m Wanda. I
’
m not a lesbian.
”

It wasn
’
t graceful, but it got the point across. The blonde smiled and shook my hand.

***

Greta and Molly had decorated their home country-kitchen style. I
’
d never seen so many knickknacks in my life. S
helves of rag dolls, little straw hausfraus, and ceramic vegetables lined the walls.

“
Wow,
”
I said, looking around.
“
This place must be hell to dust.
”

Molly smiled and placed a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses on the kitchen table. Greta cam
e over and patted me warmly on the shoulder.
“
It
’
s nice meeting you, Wanda. I
’
ve heard a great deal about you.
”

I smiled.
“
Nice meeting you, too.
”

She kissed Molly on the cheek.
“
I
’
m gonna give you girls some time to catch up.
”
She put her hand on Molly
’
s
arm and gave a gentle squeeze.
“
I
’
ll just be in the living room if you need me.
”
And she left.

Molly filled our glasses and sat down.

“
Greta, huh?
”
I said, nodding my head in the direction of the blonde
’
s departure and giving Molly a grin.
“
I didn
’
t know y
ou had it in you.
”