The Escape Artist (28 page)

“Can we watch the late news if I stay over tonight?” she asked Adam.

“The news?” He looked surprised. “We can do anything you like.”

“I’m curious about the bombings,” she explained. “I keep watching to see if they’ve gotten any clues. They haven’t mentioned anything about it in days. It’s like they’re not even trying to solve the mystery.”

“Oh, I’m sure they are. The cops often know more than they say publicly, in case the bomber or whoever is following the news. They’re probably setting a trap for him right now.”

She hoped he was right. They watched the news from Adam’s bed, and the only allusion to the bombing was the mention of a memorial service for the secretary’s children. Seeing pictures of those children reinforced her gloom, and she was glad she’d agreed to stay the night.

Very early the following morning, she opened her eyes to see Adam propped up against his pillow, drawing in a sketchbook. She didn’t stir, didn’t want to disturb him, and she feigned sleep when he finally got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Curious, she leafed through his sketchbook where he’d left it on his side of the bed. The book was about one-third full, and she recoiled from the first several pictures. They were filled with ghastly images of hollow-eyed people, wolves with their teeth bared, jagged lines, and tongues of fire. His dreams had indeed “turned to shit,” she thought. The last few pictures, though, were different. Trees, flowers, dolphins, ships, a woman fishing from a dock, a small town viewed from the air.

Adam walked back into the room as she was studying one of the sketches. She looked at him. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, nodding toward the book. “I couldn’t resist.”

He shrugged as he pulled on a T-shirt. “You let me look at yours,” he said. “Fair is fair.”

“The beginning of the sketchbook, though.” She shook her head in sympathy. “What terrible nightmares you were having.”

Adam smiled and walked over to the bed. “Ah, yes. But you, my sweet thing,” he leaned over to kiss her, “have completely changed my dreams.”

KIM WAS WORKING ON
Noel’s book later that morning when someone knocked on her apartment door. She’d heard no footsteps on the stairs, and she jumped, a small well of panic rising in her chest. Ever since seeing the police car in front of the house, she had not been able to react calmly to the phone ringing or to an unseen visitor at the door.

“Who is it?” she called out.

“Jessie.”

Relieved, she got up and opened the door. Jessie stood on the landing, shivering in a light sweater. “Your landlady let me in downstairs,” she said. “Hope that was okay.”

“Of course. Come in.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt your work.” Jessie walked into the living room. “But I was nearby and wondered if you might be taking a lunch break soon.”

Kim looked at her watch, and only then realized how hungry she was. “Sure.”

“Great.” Jessie smiled, but it was a guarded smile. “We could walk down to the deli, or—”

“Let’s eat here,” Kim said, heading toward the kitchen. “Cody just got up from his nap and he’s hungry. I’ve got tuna salad. Peanut butter and jelly. Grilled cheese. Or,” she picked up a can from the kitchen counter with a wry smile, “mini-ravioli. Cody’s favorite.”

Cody crawled across the floor and lifted himself to a standing position by hanging onto Jessie’s pant leg.

“Tuna sounds good.” Jessie said as she picked up the little boy. She pressed her lips tenderly to his cheek, and Kim was touched by the gesture.

“Have a seat.” She opened the can of ravioli first, emptying the slithery pasta into a bowl and putting it in the microwave before getting the can of tuna from the cupboard. “How are the kittens this morning?” she asked.

“Oh, they’re beautiful. You liked those kitties, didn’t you, Cody?” Jessie sat down at the table. “I really like having some other living beings around. I don’t think I live alone very well.”

Kim dumped the can of tuna into a bowl. “You know,” she said warily, “this isn’t any of my business, Jessie, but I got the feeling when I met Noel that he misses you a lot. He still has pictures of you around his apartment.”

Jessie smoothed Cody’s hair off his forehead. “I know he does. I miss him too, but he wouldn’t acknowledge that he had a problem and…” She shrugged.

“I understand,” she said quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was talk someone into a relationship with a drinker. She finished making the tuna salad and put it on the table along with a few slices of bread and a couple of plates. Then she took the ravioli out of the microwave and lifted Cody from Jessie’s lap to his high chair.

“Anyhow,” Jessie said, “I didn’t come here to talk about Noel.”

“Ah.” Kim sat down next to Cody. “You have an agenda.”

Jessie nodded, but she couldn’t seem to meet Kim’s eyes. She took a slice of bread on her plate and spooned tuna salad onto it. “I like you, Kim,” she said. “And if Adam were ready to get involved with someone, I’d be really happy it was you.” She carefully placed a second slice of bread on top of the tuna. “But he’s not ready,” she continued. “It’s too soon. He lost his whole family. He hasn’t had time to get over it yet, and I’m afraid he’s jumping into something with you just so he can stop feeling the pain.” She looked at Kim. “I understand him wanting to do that. I’d like to find an escape from the pain myself. But I know I need to feel it for awhile. And he does too.” She looked down at her sandwich as though she didn’t know what to do with it now that she’d made it. “I’m afraid he’s going to get hurt,” she said.

Kim fed Cody a piece of ravioli. “I’ve been honest with him, Jessie,” she said. “I’ve told him that I’m not ready for a relationship either. Right now, we’re just a comfort for each other.”

Jessie began to cry. The tears were sudden, catching Kim by surprise, and she reached across the table to touch Jessie’s arm.

“I’m sorry.” Jessie wiped her eyes with her napkin. “I know I’m being selfish. Up until you came along, Adam and I were both wallowing in grief. It was awful, but at least we were doing it together. Now he’s happier because you’re around, and I’m wallowing all by myself. And I think it’s right to still be wallowing. It hasn’t been that long.”

“You must have been very close to Dana and the children.”

“Molly and Liam were everything to me.” Jessie stood up and pulled a tissue from the box on the kitchen counter. “I don’t think I’m the marrying type. I may never have children. Molly and Liam felt like the closest I might ever get to having kids of my own.”

“There’ll be other guys for you,” Kim said. “There’ll be children.” She knew her argument was weak, even offensive. Molly and Liam were no more replaceable than Tyler Miller would have been had she lost him to Jim.

Jessie wrinkled her nose as she returned to her seat. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t go through this again. This…losing everybody.”

Kim leaned toward her. “Things will get better, Jessie,” she said. “It takes time. But you’re a strong person.” She recalled hearing those words from her therapist during her hospitalization. She hadn’t believed them then, and she doubted Jessie believed them now.

“It would have helped if the guy who killed them had to pay for what he did.” Jessie tore at the tissue in her hands. Her face was red, and there was anger in her eyes. “This way there’s no justice. No resolution.”

“I know,” Kim said. “I think Adam feels the same way.”

“He used to feel that way,” Jessie said bitterly. “At least until you came along. Now, everything’s just peachy.”

“No, everything’s not peachy,” Kim argued. “It’s just that Adam’s learning to—”

“Look.” Jessie seemed suddenly angry. “Quit trying to fix my brother, okay? He needs to get better at his own pace.”

Kim was surprised by the hostility in her voice. “I’m not trying to—”

“Right. I know.” Jessie held up her hands to stop Kim’s words. “I know you’re not
intentionally
doing anything to help or harm, but it’s happening, anyway.” She stood up and took a step away from the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Kim asked.

“I’m sorry.” Jessie looked at the untouched sandwich. “Maybe you could save it for your dinner.” She started for the door, and Kim felt distressed by the sudden turn their conversation had taken. Jessie was jealous all right, but not of the attention Adam was paying to Kim. She was jealous of her brother’s ability to get on with his life. Jessie was stuck, and she was determined to keep Adam stuck with her.

Kim made sure Cody was strapped into his high chair, then followed Jessie to the door. “I know this has been an awful year for both of you,” she said, when she’d caught up to her, “but it’s not fair for you to try to hold Adam back this way.”

“Don’t tell me what’s fair.” Jessie’s voice had lost its volume, but not its anger. “Nothing, absolutely nothing, about life is fair. Maybe you haven’t figured that out yet, Kim. You have this great little boy and a comfortable life. You don’t know how quickly all of that can change.”

Kim opened her mouth to argue that point, but wisely closed it again. “Maybe not,” she said quietly. “Maybe I don’t.”

Shutting the door after Jessie left, she leaned against it, eyes closed and her knees shaking from the confrontation.

She knew more than Jessie could ever guess about life’s unfairness.

“I’VE STARTED WORKING ON
the article,” Lucy said from the glider on the porch.

“Which article?” Kim set down her mug of coffee to zip her jacket. It was chilly this morning.

“The one you’ve inspired me to write. You know, on young single mothers.”

“Oh. How’s it coming along?”

“Well, I need to interview some mothers, and I’d like to start with you, if you’re willing.”

Kim picked up her mug again and sat back in the rocking chair, her eyes on Cody. He was standing up on the rocker nearest her, and she was ready to grab him if he lost his balance. “I don’t know, Lucy,” she said.

“It would be fun,” Lucy said. “I’d have a photographer come out and take pictures of you and Cody and—”

“Oh, no.” Kim shook her head. “No, thanks. I just want to live a nice quiet, anonymous life.” She wondered if this could be a trap of some sort. Maybe the police told Lucy to see how she’d react to the idea of having her picture in a widely circulated magazine.

“Well, believe me,” Lucy chuckled. “People won’t recognize you on the street on the strength of one of my articles. I wish I had that sort of readership, dear, but I don’t.”

Kim finished her coffee. “Maybe the interview part,” she said, “but no pictures. Okay?”

“All right.” Lucy gave in. “Though I hope you’ll change your mind. Maybe we could do it next week. I should have the article outlined by then.”

“Can you change my name in the article?” Kim asked. “A lot of writers do that, don’t they?”

“If you like “ Lucy looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess I understand how you feel,” she said, “and you’re probably right about not putting in a picture. You’re a young single woman and you don’t want some strange person to come looking for you and Cody. I think you’re right.”

“Good. Thanks.” She stood up and moved Cody from the rocker to the floor of the porch. “Are you about ready for a walk, kiddo?” she asked him.

“By the way,” Lucy said as Kim was putting Cody in the stroller. “I worry about you when you don’t come home at night.”

Kim looked at her in surprise. “Oh.” She smiled. She hadn’t thought about what the neighbors might think. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Well, how do I know you’re not lying in a gutter somewhere with your throat slit?” Lucy sounded defensive.

Kim leaned over to zip up Cody’s jacket. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m all right.”

“Well, you’re old enough that I don’t need to give you advice, I suppose,” Lucy said. “Maybe that can be another part of my article.” She gazed into space. “You know, how to balance single motherhood with your love life.”

Kim laughed. “You’ll have to find someone else to interview for that part of the article,” she said. She turned the stroller toward the street just as Ellen poked her head out the front door.

“My client isn’t here yet?” Ellen sounded exasperated.

“Haven’t seen anyone,” Lucy said.

“Ellen?” Kim asked. “Will someone be able to fix that faucet in my apartment soon?” She’d taken to stuffing pieces of tissue in her ears at night to block the sound.

“Soon,” Ellen said. “The plumber I use is really backed up.” She looked down the street and shook her head. “Guess I have a free hour.” With a shrug, she disappeared inside again.

“You need to be more assertive,” Lucy said once Ellen had shut the door. “You’ve been after her about that leak for days. You should give her hell.”

“I’m not much of a hell-giver,” Kim said. Besides, she needed to stay on Ellen’s good side. “We’ll see you later,” she said.

“Bye, dear,” Lucy waved. “Have fun.”

Kim started walking toward the park. The conversation with Lucy had left her half amused, half unnerved. It was nice to know she had a neighbor who wanted to watch out for her safety, but she didn’t want anyone to know her every move. It was best to keep Lucy in the dark about her comings and goings. That way, if she ever did leave for real, it would take Lucy a few days to realize she was actually gone.

The leaves seemed to have deepened to richer golds and reds overnight, and she felt as though she and Cody were moving through a tunnel of color as they approached the playground. The stroller made a crackling sound as she pushed it through the layer of fallen leaves.

Roxanne was there with her two boys. Jack stood at the top of the slide, yelling at some imaginary playmate; Roxanne pushed Brandon on the swing. Kim joined them, pushing Cody, chatting with her new friend about the weather and raking leaves and Halloween costumes.

“Jack insists on being a monster this year,” Roxanne said. “Not that he needs a costume for that.” She laughed. “But anyhow, he apparently has this specific monster in mind, with this green head and warts all over its neck. Yuck! The store had to order the costume in his size. Do you believe it? Special ordering a Halloween costume for a four year old. I must be out of my mind. So it’s supposed to arrive sometime this week, and it better get here by Halloween or someone’s going to be upset.”