Read Time Off for Good Behavior Online

Authors: Lani Diane Rich

Time Off for Good Behavior (33 page)

BOOK: Time Off for Good Behavior
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How he had no right. How he had no fucking right.

How he was dead.


I thought I

d be happy,

I said finally, surpri
sed by the sound of my voice as the words came out on their own. I stared at the Virgin, speaking as much to her as to Walter.

I

ve been praying for this for a long time. I know it

s terrible, but it

s true. And now here I am, and he

s finally gone, and I

m not even relieved. I

m sad, actually.


That

s understandable,

Walter said calmly, always the voice of reason.

I

m sure you loved him. Once.


I should hate him,

I said, my eyes drifting back to the Virgin.

I should be happy he

s finally gone.

I pa
used, but I didn

t know what I was waiting for. The music maybe. Now would be a good time for the music to make sense. Now would be a good time for anything to make sense. But, of course, nothing did. Not George, not Walter, not the Virgin in her garden o
f
stone.


He loved me.

I nearly choked on the words as I said them.

He may have been a sick bastard and a bad guy, but he loved me, and he was the only one who did. I know it sounds crazy...


No,

Walter said quietly,

it doesn

t.


And instead of being
relieved that I don

t have to be afraid of him anymore, I feel like the last person who will ever love me is just... gone.

Walter put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight against him. I collapsed onto him, sobbing under the weight of George

s li
fe and death. Walter held me, rocking me back and forth, kissing my hair, and whispering quietly,

He won

t be the last one.

We sat like that for a while, until I recovered enough to realize I was getting cold out there in my shiny nylon running pants and
T-shirt. Walter pulled off his sweatshirt, revealing a worn-out Rolling Stones

86 World Tour T-shirt underneath. I smiled. He pulled the sweatshirt over my head and put his arm around my waist, guiding me silently through the halls of Hastings General u
n
til we were in the parking lot.

I started to take off the sweatshirt when we got to my car, but Walter put his hand out to stop me.


Keep it.

He smiled.

I

ll get it later.

I nodded and unlocked my car door but turned back to Walter before opening it.


T
hank you,

I said.

He shrugged.

I

m glad you didn

t have to do this alone.


No,

I said.

I mean for everything. I don

t make it easy for people to... help me.

I swallowed.

To care about me. I know that.

He smiled.

It

s okay.


And I

m sorry,

I said
. He nodded, although I could tell he wanted to ask what I was sorry for. Sorry I

d kissed him? Sorry I

d slept with him? Sorry I

d left him? All of the above? I reached over and grabbed his band.

Can you do something for me?

I felt his fingers tighten a
round mine.

Anything.


Don

t give up on me,

I said. I could feel my eyes filling again, and I blinked the tears away. Stupid, mushy, crying fool.

Walter pulled me into his arms and hugged me, kissing the top of my he
ad and breathing a little lightness back into me.

I wasn

t planning on it.

I pulled away and got in my car and drove back to Elizabeth

s, taking a hit off the smell of Walter

s sweatshirt every now and again to keep me going.

 

***

 

Sunday morning I woke
up on Elizabeth

s sofa. I

d been unable to go to sleep the night before and had crawled down to the living room and switched on a documentary channel. I fell asleep to sharks and woke up to baboon asses. It wasn

t pretty.

I headed out to steal some empty c
ardboard boxes from the Dumpster behind the grocery store. An hour later I had one box on my shoulder and another under my arm as I headed up the steps to my old second-floor apartment. Before putting my key in the lock, I turned and looked out toward the
city of Hastings, shielded behind a veil of flour, and remembered standing there with Walter after that first kiss, pondering silently on the existence of purity. I laughed a little, amazed at how sometimes a few weeks could seem like a lifetime.

I pushed
the door open and stepped in, my foot sliding a bit as it made contact with an envelope. It was a standard business envelope, with

Wanda

scrawled in George

s handwriting on the front. Judging by the scuffs on it, he had taken some time shoving it under t
he rubber runners that weatherproofed my front door. As I bent down to pick it up, I heard a familiar voice behind me.


That

s one hell of an ass, cupcake.

I stood up and turned to see Manny the Mailman.

You can

t be sticking out an ass like that just an
ywhere. You might give some poor guy a heart attack.


Hey, Manny,

I said.

What are you doing here? There

s no mail on Sundays.


Ah, there was a weird guy hanging around here a week back. Mrs. Forini called the cops, but he left before they got here. I
been checking up for her. She was pretty freaked out.

He gave me a pointed look.

So where the hell ya been, babe?


I had a little domestic problem,

I said.

I had to get away for a while.

His face darkened.

Was it that guy?

I gave a small smile.

Ye
ah. He won

t be back.


What about you?

he asked.

You back?

I shook my head.

I

m just cleaning out the apartment. I found a place I like better.

Manny nodded.

Yeah. Well. Good for you. Glad you

re okay.

He reached over and gave me a pat on the back.

Take care of yourself.

I waved after him as he bounded down the steps. When he was almost at his car, I yelled out,

Hey, Manny!

He turned and shielded his eyes against the sun to look up at me.

What?


You let me know if you ever leave that wife of y
ours, okay?


Ah, you,

he said, giving me a wave of dismissal and getting in his car. I dropped the envelope into one empty box and headed back into my apartment to pack up.

 

***

 

Later that afternoon I came
out from the shower, stepping over the piles of stuff I

d kept from the old place. It wasn

t much. Books and pictures, mostly. Everything else I

d donated to a women

s shelter downtown. It was time for a new start, anyway.

I towel-dried my hair on the bed
and stared at the remaining sticky notes on my wall.

Get a new haircut.

Go see parents.

Do something meaningful.

Identify phantom music.

Figure out what I want.

Tell Walter.

I focused on the last one and wished I hadn

t vowed to take care of everything el
se before really talking to him. I knew I could call him, and he

d be over in a flash, holding me, making me feel better. Giving everything and demanding nothing.

Which was exactly why I had to get through the other stuff first.

I threw the towel onto the
pile of laundry in the corner and tossed myself back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe I should just forget the whole thing and call him. Maybe this reinvention of self was just a big old truckload of bullshit I invented to fuel my avoidance. Well,
I didn

t want to avoid Walter anymore. I wanted to move on, with him if possible.

Screw the sticky notes.

Screw the goddamn sticky notes.

I sighed, grabbing the cordless phone from its base. I pulled one of the sticky notes off the wall and grabbed the ph
one book, letting my fingers do the walking through the Beauty Salons & Stylists section.

 

***

 


I want something different,

I said, tapping my feet on the bar at the bottom of the stylist

s chair.

The unfortunate stylist who

d gotten me was a girl with p
ink hair named Anna, who tilted her head and looked at me.


Just... different?

I could see the dread in her face. I imagined the last woman who

d said that to her leaving in tears, threatening to sue, seemingly unaware that hair grows back.


Yes. I don

t
care what you do. Just make it different. Red, maybe. Or blonde. Short. Layered. Bobbed. I don

t care. Have fun. I

m your own personal Barbie doll.


Really?

she said, her eyes brightening.

I nodded.

Really

Anna grinned and cracked her gum.

Cool.

 

***

 


What did you do to your hair?

Elizabeth asked, dropping her bag in the hallway, too surprised by my new look to notice that she

d left the door open and that a tall, good-looking, and apparently very happy man was still standing right behind her.

It

s
all short. And red!

BOOK: Time Off for Good Behavior
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