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me supposed to be feeding you.
He takes the plate of steaks out of the fridge and heads out,  Rare for you?
 Medium rare. She follows him out into the heat.  Summer s here, at least for
today. Will he tell her about today? She guesses not.
 Just glad I finally got the power turned on down the street so I could crank up the
AC. The place was like a sweat box.
He slaps the steaks on and they hiss as flesh contacts hot iron. Smoke rises to sting
her eyes and she turns away to clear them.
 Never guess who stopped by to see me today.
So she is wrong again. What s happening to her instinct about people?  Who?
 Grant.
She works at feigning casual interest.  Oh, what did he say?
He shrugs, shifting the meat,  Not much. Didn t stay long. We talked a little.
She keeps her voice nonchalant.  About what?
 I think he was a little concerned. He shrugs.  Stranger sharing a house with his
mom. It s natural. We got to know each other a little bit. I showed off my tomato
patch.
She works hard to keep her mouth straight,  And was he impressed?
 I wouldn t say that. Not the gardening type, is he. But by the time he left, I think
we understood each other pretty well.
She looks away, nods, biting her lip to keep from smiling.  I m glad you had a
chance to visit.
When the steaks pool blood he takes them up and they head inside. At the table
he reaches for her hands and for a moment it throws her. Gone blank, she reaches
out before it occurs to her what he wants.  Oh, I forgot.
Her family had never said a blessing. Her parents both highly educated people
themselves, she d known she was agnostic before the training wheels had come off
her tricycle. Listening to him say grace now, she s amazed by the sympathetic vibra-
tion it raises in her.
She likes the way he says it, for one thing voice low and personal. She likes it
that his eyes stay open and up and on her. The thought that God would want her to
talk to him with her eyes shut, head bowed in cowering supplication has always
rubbed her the wrong way.
Done, he smiles,  I ve got it.
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D . W . S T . J O HN
 Got what?
 What I learned.
She laughs.  Go ahead.
 Something about Charlie Chaplin.
 I thought you were reading genetics.
 I am. He slashes the air impatiently,  Okay, a girlfriend of his& ex-girlfriend of
his, very young, early teens he liked them young sued him for paternity. The
three of them took blood tests Chaplin, the girl, and the baby. New thing at the
time, never been used before to demonstrate paternity in court.
This is interesting. She leans forward,  And?
 And they found out Barry, the girl, had type A blood, the baby had type B, and
Chaplin had type O.
The steak is good, very good. She watches him eat, likes what she sees. Not so
prim as Len. Not sloppy either, but the right place between. Comfortable the way
he eats, the way he dresses, the way he is. Got a brain at least. That s something. And
he reads. Like the flavor of remembered nightmare, his words come back  Seen
the inside of the jail? I have. She forces her thoughts back to the subject at hand.
 He couldn t have been the father.
 No, but the jury didn t believe the tests and decided against him. He had to pay
child support anyway.
What could he have possibly done? Something nonviolent she would bet her life.
Bet her life& Her heart catches as she realizes by taking him as boarder she s already
done preciesely that.  I didn t know that.
After dinner they move out by the pool to sit on the second step, water lapping at
their chins. Light fading, the water takes on an opaque quality in the twilight. Jade
on an air mattress in front of the diving board waits while Alex jumps off nearby,
doing her best to capsize her. Jade gives her a big push toward the side, and a squeal-
ing Alex begins the cycle over again.
 Jade s so patient, Ceridwen says.  Most kids her age wouldn t be bothered.
He presses close, voice low,  Does Alex read?
She s not surprised he s noticed.  Every word s a struggle. I ve tried working with
her, but it drives me batty. We ll sound out a word, and two minutes later she doesn t
know it.
The girls get out, dry themselves, and with giggling and meaningful glances, go
in.
 Her teacher wants to send her out for extra help, but I don t want her ostracized.
She sighs, exasperation familiar as an old friend weighing on her.  I don t know what
to do.
She pushes off and he follows in her wake. The feel of water flowing over skin is
good, purifying. In it she can lose the guilt, the worry, the nagging anxiety over
money. A glance at him tells her he s comfortable as she is with silence. It s good to
have him there.
Laps done, they lie on sun-warmed stone, soaking up the heat as the evening
breeze raises goose bumps along her arms. She has no business spending this much
time with him. It s asking for trouble and that kind of trouble she does not need. It s
all gotten away from her, somehow. Everything in her life is running out of control
and she has the feeling there s nothing she can do to stop it.
 Heavy sigh, he says.  Must be serious.
She rises to her elbows,  I was thinking we probably shouldn t be seeing this much
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S ee N ight R un
of each other.
He smiles, face on his arm.  I ll only buy three steaks from now on.
She is determined.  I mean it.
 And if I meet you in the hall, I ll pass without speaking.
What annoys her most is how easy it is for him to make her seem ridiculous. She
slips back into the water.  Stop it.
In the center of the pool, she hangs with her toes barely touching bottom, inter-
face of liquid and gas tickling her upper lip. As she watches he dives. With a mixture
of disquiet and anticipation she waits for him to surface. This he does within arm s
reach.
Mouths below the surface, words are out. Suddenly frightened of the man before
her, she feels the need to back away, to swim for the side. She stays where she is, the
field of his attraction holding her. In jail& he was in jail.
His eyes are impossible to read in the growing dark. What can he think? That she
lured him back into the water? And isn t that what she s done? He moves closer. No
way she can outdistance him now. Her speed won t help her this close; he d have her
before she were a stroke away. She pictures again his arms. No way she can fight him.
She s known women who have been raped, seen how it changes their lives. She
promises herself she ll fight. Somehow she will.
She hedges in the direction of the steps and as he pivots to follow waning light of
dusk lets her read his eyes. Instantly she sees her error. Heart slowing, she giggles in
the privacy of the water, bubbles clinging to the skin of her lip. Eyes like his don t lie.
Nothing to fear in them. Hidden by the water she smiles, and when his eyes change
she sees he knows.
How dare he laugh at her. She reaches out, shoves against a chest solid as the flank [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]