Moondance by Karen M. Black Read Free Book Online Page A

freezer? And two cases of wine? Living dangerously are you?”
    “You’re so hard on an old woman.”
    “Sophie, old is not one of the ways I’d describe you.”
    From a young age, her mother had insisted that Althea call her Sophie.
    “It’s up to us to be prepared. For anything.”
    “Eccentric, yes. Stubborn, yes. Even a bit pushy at times. But old — nah.”
    “That’s right and don’t forget it.”
    Althea re-filled their martinis. When she went to fetch the cutlery, she had to move Princess off the counter. She pulled out a dining room chair, and Princess went to it, watching Althea with wide yellow eyes. Althea set the table, and found herself humming along to the jazz.
    She remembered Albert as a gentle man who reveled in music, nature and the furniture he made. She remembered the summer he taught her how to sleep without her bedroom lights on if it ever gets too dark, you can always ask the moon , he’d say, and later, how not to be ticklish on her feet.
    “Are you ready ?” Albert would ask, and when she nodded, he would move his finger down her arch. Not wanting to make a sound, Althea would inhale until she exploded in a great gale of laughter. After a while, she learned to relax.
    “See wee one? You’re not ticklish any more.”
    When they first met, Kevin would try to tickle her. When she didn’t respond, he finally gave up, then she would pounce on him until he begged for mercy. No more Kevin .
    “Penny for your thoughts.”
    “You don’t want to know.”
    “You’re wrong about that, I want to know everything.”
    Althea glanced outside. The willows in the backyard moved gracefully. Beyond the trees was a walking path that led to a small lake. Tomorrow, she would spend some time there.
    Althea took a sip of her martini. Sophie stoked the fire in the woodstove, then raised her glass.
    “To Kevin and Tori — here’s hoping they make each other miserable.”
    Althea almost spit out her vodka. She raised her own glass.
    “Here here.”
    “Here’s hoping they rot with guilt.
    “And the sex is lousy.”
    “And Kevin gets some terrible, life-threatening disease so he can’t get it up.”
    “And Kevin wants me back — but can’t have me!”
    Silence then, only the crackling of the wood stove.
    “Are you going to get rid of his stuff?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Don’t let him off easy, he doesn’t deserve it.”
    “Mmmm.”
    The room was cooler, despite the fire. Althea excused herself and went upstairs. She checked her messages: one from Kevin, which she deleted. The other was the one she was waiting for.
    They ate, they drank, and then drank some more. At midnight, Althea fell up the narrow stairs to the third floor, a place where Althea and Kevin stayed in happier times, a furnished guest-apartment with a kitchen, a bathroom, and a long stretch of windows. She stumbled to the windows, which held the familiar creamy glow of the moon, and the anger that crystallized earlier in the evening dissolved. She felt the panic welling up again. Her two best friends .
    She looked out through her tears, remembering the times when she was a child standing here, drawn into the moon’s gentle sheen, its surface abundant with mystery and possibility, the ability to connect with something greater than herself, things she couldn’t see, and the ability to shape dreams.
    Tonight, she only saw the moon’s shadows.

    • • •

    MONDAY MORNING, ALTHEA CALLED in sick and stayed to help Sophie garden, cleaning out some of the swiss chard, picking the tomatoes, freezing some, harvesting the squash. After lunch, she walked through Sophie’s sloping back yard, past the willows, and along the path that led to the lake.
    The beach was a combination of pebbles and sand, dotted with two weather-worn picnic tables. At the far end of the beach, facing the still water, was a metal swing-set with poles sunk into the earth. Ever since she was a child, Althea had loved swings, the air moving over her face,