“See you later.” She hung up and went back to the living room. She stopped at the edge of the table. Harold was sitting up straight. He was no longer crying. “You all right?” she asked.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose.”
“You’ll pick me up for the film next week?”
He made a limp smile. “Ah, my cue to evacuate the premises.”
“Afraid so. I have to get cleaned up and leave. That was Dave. We’ve got a little bit of an emergency we need to take care of.”
Nodding, Harold drank the last of his wine.
He stood up. Joan took hold of his hand, and they walked toward the door. “The film?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s give it a try and see how it goes. Unless, of course, you dump me between now and then for someone even more beautiful and charming than moi.”
“The dumping, my dear, has already been done. Not by me, of course.”
The words wrenched her. She’d thought she had healed his wound. All she’d done, she realized, was slap a bandage across it. The gash was too big for such a flimsy patch. She could almost see the tide of blood.
Harold opened the door.
Joan clutched his arm to stop him from leaving. She turned him to face her. He didn’t look tormented now. He looked resigned, defeated, a little dazed and hollow in the eyes.
“I wish I could make it all right,” she said.
“You get an E for effort.” He eased his arm out of her grip and walked out into the dusk.
Joan closed the door and leaned back against it. She let out a deep sigh.
She felt awful. She was glad that he was gone. She was glad that it was over.
It was over. He’d lost, and he wasn’t about to accept the consolation prize of friendship.
And she was glad.
And it was not too different from kicking Woodrow Abernathy in the chin. A feeling of relief and joy because she’d taken care of business, finished the matter, brought a bad situation to a quick end. But guilt was like gray rain in her soul.
Twenty-four
“It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Wayne.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you too, Shiner.”
“I have to be home before midnight, so I’ll get Jeremy back here around eleven-thirty. Is that all right?”
“Fine, fine. Have a good time, kids.”
Jeremy opened the door for Shiner. As she walked out, he smiled at his mother. She made a face at him—eyebrows rising, eyes rolling upward, lips pursing—a face that said, “I can’t believe it. How did you possibly manage to latch on to a girl like this?”
Once the door was shut, he took hold of Shiner’s hand. “You wowed her!”
“But of course.”
“She was all set to hate your guts.”
“She’s nice. I like her.”
They reached the curb. Shiner unlocked the passenger door for Jeremy, then walked around the front of the car.
“You sure look nice tonight,” he said as she slipped in behind the steering wheel.
“Thanks. You too.”
He wished she were wearing a dress, but she looked awfully good in the white jeans. And he liked the way her blouse seemed so light and clingy. If he held her, it would feel slick and he would be able to slide it on her skin.
She had an aroma that made him think of the way the air might smell in a forest after a spring rain.
She started the car and pulled away from the curb. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, “and there’s no law says we have to go to this thing at Tanya’s. It’s going to be a bummer, you know. A lot of talk about that guy who kicked it. We could do something else. Go to the movies or fool around at Funland or something.”
“Don’t you want to go?” Jeremy asked.
“If you do. I’m just saying we don’t have to.”
The idea of going to a movie or to Funland with Shiner excited him. On the other hand, he hated to miss Tanya’s party.
“I’m pretty curious about it,” he said.
“Okay. We’ll go, then. No problem.”
“Are you sure?”
“It was just a thought. And, I mean, we should go. Tanya wants everyone to be there. I’ve just got cold feet, I guess.”
“You’re scared?”
“No, not scared. A little nervous, maybe. I don’t know, I have this feeling I’m going to wish we’d stayed away.”
“Maybe we’d better not go, then,” he said, being gallant and self-sacrificing and