housekeeping were like nails on a chalkboard. The water in the kitchen was run full blast, the door of the dishwasher was yanked open, the dish was thrown in and the dishwasher door banged shut. The knife was tossed in the sink like a javelin. Teenage angst manifested itself brilliantly: anger at being forgotten, being alone, not being the first thing Josie attended to. Josie was sorry. She didn't know how to be perfect for Hannah and still do what needed to be done for Archer. She would try harder. Hannah would have to let her feel her way through this strange black box of a child's dependency.
In the quiet that followed, Josie thought about apologizing again. Maybe she would take Hannah to dinner. Maybe she should just get up and do that. Yet Josie did nothing. A fog had settled over her mind. Her strength was gone, the course was unclear. All she could think about was Archer and the information he had kept from her. Lies by omission. Josie didn't have a clue what to do next but Hannah did. She stood in the doorway and announced:
''I have homework. If you go to Archer's place it will be quieter. I can study better.''
Josie blinked and Hannah disappeared. The door of her room slammed but not with the force of unadulterated fury. Rather it had the ring of reticent understanding.
Fine. Josie would accept that. She got off the bed, pulled on a sweatshirt and zipped it halfway up. Sweatpants and her clogs were next. Max's old neon pink leash was in her hands but the dog slept peacefully on the patio where he'd been left. He didn't raise his head as she opened the gate. Josie put the leash on the wall and let sleeping dogs lie.
She crossed the wide walking street in front of her house, jogged to the Strand and crossed over to the beach. She stuck to the shore not wanting to see anyone she knew. The low tide rolled toward her with a gentle woosh and rolled back with a skitter. The sun set away from her. Archer's building loomed ahead: pink and old and in need of some fixing up after an especially hot summer. It used to be the best building on the beach. Now it was just an old broad standing in the midst of the new babes. But those new places just passed as homes. In reality they were merely buildings.
Josie trudged the last few yards, crossed the bike path again and walked up the three flights to Archer's place. The door opened easily which was odd. Archer was usually so careful. Josie stepped in and locked the door behind her.
''Archer?''
Inside there was a sense of sedation, as if living had been suspended until further notice. She maneuvered through the living room, glancing at the huge rooftop deck. Archer's bicycle was there. The bar-b-que. The tripod. No camera. They had brought it back from the police station. Archer had it when she dropped him off right after they checked the high school for Hannah. Then she saw it in the corner. Either the damage was bad, he had lost interest in what he was doing or his injuries were worse than she feared. His pride and joy, the camera that was now his livelihood, lay in pieces on the end table.
''Archer?''
She called louder, wandering toward the bedroom only to find him in the bath. His head was back; his eyes were closed. She stood in the doorway.
''You didn't answer.''
''No.'' He didn't open his eyes.
''Want me to go?''
He moved his head slightly. That was a negative.
Josie knelt beside the claw-footed tub. It was long and it was deep: the perfect tub for a man like Archer when he invited a woman like Josie to join him. But now, alone, he didn't seem to fill it the way he usually did. Josie let her eyes roam over the body she knew so well. His right side was black and blue and purple and red, the bruise had spread like an oil slick. Archer's hair was wet but his face was dry. Josie pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up, reached into the water and retrieved a washcloth.
''Why'd they come after you so hard, Archer?''
Josie dabbed at the red wound on the side of his
In the quiet that followed, Josie thought about apologizing again. Maybe she would take Hannah to dinner. Maybe she should just get up and do that. Yet Josie did nothing. A fog had settled over her mind. Her strength was gone, the course was unclear. All she could think about was Archer and the information he had kept from her. Lies by omission. Josie didn't have a clue what to do next but Hannah did. She stood in the doorway and announced:
''I have homework. If you go to Archer's place it will be quieter. I can study better.''
Josie blinked and Hannah disappeared. The door of her room slammed but not with the force of unadulterated fury. Rather it had the ring of reticent understanding.
Fine. Josie would accept that. She got off the bed, pulled on a sweatshirt and zipped it halfway up. Sweatpants and her clogs were next. Max's old neon pink leash was in her hands but the dog slept peacefully on the patio where he'd been left. He didn't raise his head as she opened the gate. Josie put the leash on the wall and let sleeping dogs lie.
She crossed the wide walking street in front of her house, jogged to the Strand and crossed over to the beach. She stuck to the shore not wanting to see anyone she knew. The low tide rolled toward her with a gentle woosh and rolled back with a skitter. The sun set away from her. Archer's building loomed ahead: pink and old and in need of some fixing up after an especially hot summer. It used to be the best building on the beach. Now it was just an old broad standing in the midst of the new babes. But those new places just passed as homes. In reality they were merely buildings.
Josie trudged the last few yards, crossed the bike path again and walked up the three flights to Archer's place. The door opened easily which was odd. Archer was usually so careful. Josie stepped in and locked the door behind her.
''Archer?''
Inside there was a sense of sedation, as if living had been suspended until further notice. She maneuvered through the living room, glancing at the huge rooftop deck. Archer's bicycle was there. The bar-b-que. The tripod. No camera. They had brought it back from the police station. Archer had it when she dropped him off right after they checked the high school for Hannah. Then she saw it in the corner. Either the damage was bad, he had lost interest in what he was doing or his injuries were worse than she feared. His pride and joy, the camera that was now his livelihood, lay in pieces on the end table.
''Archer?''
She called louder, wandering toward the bedroom only to find him in the bath. His head was back; his eyes were closed. She stood in the doorway.
''You didn't answer.''
''No.'' He didn't open his eyes.
''Want me to go?''
He moved his head slightly. That was a negative.
Josie knelt beside the claw-footed tub. It was long and it was deep: the perfect tub for a man like Archer when he invited a woman like Josie to join him. But now, alone, he didn't seem to fill it the way he usually did. Josie let her eyes roam over the body she knew so well. His right side was black and blue and purple and red, the bruise had spread like an oil slick. Archer's hair was wet but his face was dry. Josie pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up, reached into the water and retrieved a washcloth.
''Why'd they come after you so hard, Archer?''
Josie dabbed at the red wound on the side of his
Similar Books
Changing Traditions, A Christmas Novella
Rachel Rittenhouse
Abyss (Songs of Megiddo)
Daniel Klieve
The Mortal Groove
Ellen Hart
In the Court of the Yellow King
Tim Curran, Cody Goodfellow, Gary McMahon, C.J. Henderson, William Meikle, T.E. Grau, Laurel Halbany, Christine Morgan, Edward Morris
Jakarta Pandemic, The
Steven Konkoly
Black Powder
Ally Sherrick
Demons Undone: The Sons of Gulielmus Series
Holley Trent
Dirtiest Revenge
Cha'Bella Don
Blackout (Darkness Trilogy)
Madeleine Henry
Singapore Wink
Ross Thomas