Within Arm's Reach by Ann Napolitano Read Free Book Online Page A

to maintain a nearly complete knowledge of what goes on in Ramsey.
    Clearly, if I want Joel to hear the news from me, it’s imperative that I tell him about the baby soon. I’m lucky he doesn’t know already.
    On the afternoon following the second meat lasagna, when I am driving down Main Street with the ingredients for a key lime pie in a grocery bag in the backseat, I stop at a red light and Weber opens the passenger-side door of my Honda. He climbs in and slams the door behind him.
    “Jesus Christ, Weber.” I press my palm against my collarbone. “You can’t do that to a person! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
    Weber smiles. His crew cut looks freshly mowed. He is wearing a black T-shirt covered with Jon Bon Jovi’s smiling face. “Can you give me a ride to the fire department, please, milady? My truck’s in the shop.”
    “Fine.” Now that the fright has passed, I am annoyed. I have enough to worry about without car doors flying open when I’m not expecting it.
    I haven’t driven ten feet before he opens his big mouth. “How about you let me read your tarot cards?”
    “My what?”
    “Your tarot cards. Let me read your cards. Your aura has been really screwed up lately, and the cards will let us know what’s going on.”
    I stare over at him. “You’re a crazy bastard.”
    “I’m betting the deception card will come up big time.”
    I look for an opening in the traffic, so I can pull over and kick him out, but I am blocked in on all sides. I have no choice but to drive forward.
    He leans against the passenger-side window, his eyes half-closed as he studies me. I hate the feel of his eyes on my skin.
    He says, “Are you cheating on Joel?”
    I try to stay calm because of the baby. “Get out of my car.”
    “Answer the question first. It’s not like you haven’t done it before. I know you cheated on Douglas.”
    His words, so unbelievable in the middle of the afternoon in my car on the way home from the supermarket, hang in the air between us. I shake my head. If this could happen, then anything is possible. My life officially makes no sense.
    Then I actually think, Wait a minute, maybe there’s an opportunity here. Maybe I should tell him I did cheat, and then he will tell Joel and we’ll break up, and when Joel hears later that I’m pregnant, he’ll think it was from the other guy. And then because there was no other guy I’ll be like the virgin Mary. It would be an Immaculate Conception. I would have conceived this baby with a night of sex that had never happened. I would be redeemed.
    The idea seems brilliant, providential. I have found the answer and, in some way, the truth. My grandmother would look at me with love and approval in her eyes for the first time. I’d be above reproach. My mother wouldn’t be able to touch me with her sarcasm. I would have achieved purity. My child and I would bask in God’s light. We would be blessed.
    Then the car behind me honks, and I come to my senses.
    I shout at Weber, “No, I did not cheat,” and shove him out of the car at the next light.
    I DIDN’T lie to Weber. I never cheat on my boyfriends, but I do sometimes hasten the end of a relationship so I can go back to having fun. The boyfriend-girlfriend scenario feels good at first. It is a comfort to know that someone is looking forward to seeing me at the end of the day, to know that I have a hand to hold, to know that someone likes me and has strung that feeling across a series of days, weeks, even months. But eventually the structure of the relationship and the sameness of the boyfriend makes me antsy. I start to think about going out at night, dream about it, and at that point the relationship is as good as over.
    I always go back to wanting the same thing: to visit the Green Trolley and sit next to some strange man at the bar. I want to sip beer and flip my hair and feel my eyes come alive under his gaze. I know who I am in those moments. I recognize my reflection in the eyes