tending. He sits on the bed next to me. “I think the kids should stay with my dad another night.”
“Yes,” I reply. “Yes, you’re right. They all right? They got to school okay?”
“It’s Saturday,” he says.
“Of course.”
“They’re good, they’re with their friends. They don’t know anything.”
“Okay, good. That’s good,” I say, then wait till he leaves the room to bury my face into the pillow and bawl my eyes out.
At one point I think there’s a knock on the door and my heart lurches because I think it’s them, they’ve come to arrest me, and I sit up, but it’s next door. I should get up and get dressed, though, because they will come, won’t they? I don’t want them to find me like this. I reach for my phone to call June. She must be worried sick. I want to tell her I understand she had to tell them that my alibi was a lie. She must feel terrible. She doesn’t answer and I leave a message. “Hi, it’s me.” My voice breaks. “I’m home,” I say, in case she thought I was arrested. “God, that was scary. Call me soon.”
I take a shower, get dressed in practical clothes, flat shoes, pants that don’t require a belt—you never know, what if they take it away from me? I think about these things.
I expected to hear back from June but there’s no message. Luis made some calls and has found me a lawyer. “He’s the best,” he says. I promise him that I’ll call this afternoon. I don’t tell him there’s no money, there probably never will be.
“Go to the studio if you have to work,” I say. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
He takes my hand. “You sure?”
“Of course. I want to visit June anyway.” I don’t add, While I still can.
I leave another message then drive over to June’s house. I’m actually getting worried about her. It’s not like her to not return my calls. Also, I desperately want to apologize. I should never have asked her to lie for me. Maybe she’s angry about that, that I got her mixed up in this whole mess. I’ll explain that I just panicked. I thought if the police knew I was there that they would come for me. In the end they did anyway.
I am thinking all this as I walk up to her porch, hugging a potted purple hyacinth because I read somewhere they signify Please forgive me. I ring the doorbell and after a moment I see her outline drawing near through the frosted glass pane. I quickly stand to the side with my arm extended so she’ll see the plant before she sees me.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out as she opens the door, my head tilted, my eyebrows raised. “Please forgive me?”
“God!” She slaps her hand on her chest. “You scared the bejesus out me!”
I recoil in surprise. “I did? I’m sorry. I left you a bunch of messages. Well, three, anyway.”
I wait, holding my pot plant against my chest, but she doesn’t move.
“I’ve come bearing gifts—one gift anyway. And to say I’m sorry that I asked you to lie for me. That was wrong. You okay? They didn’t give you a hard time, I hope? I told them it was my fault.”
She stands there, a little shakily, and takes the plant from me. “Thank you. It’s very nice.” She’s smiling but it looks forced and makes her lips twitch.
I put one hand on my hip and tilt my head at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m kinda busy, that’s all.”
I blink. I imagined myself coming here, moving piles of baking magazines from her couch and sitting down with a cup of that chai tea she makes, holding onto one of her flowery cushions. It never occurred to me she wouldn’t want to see me.
“Can I come in?”
She glances over her shoulder.
“Oh? Sorry. You have guests?” Then it dawns on me, and I look around, try to pry through her front window. I lean forward and whisper. “Is it the police? They’re here?”
“No. The police aren’t here. Nobody’s here. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
I nod. “Of course. I should go. Oh god, June! I don’t want to go! I’m so sorry! I can’t say it enough. I’m probably going to be arrested, unless a miracle happens and I can’t imagine what that might be, so I might not see you again after this.” I pull out a used Kleenex from my coat pocket and wipe my nose.