| “Where did you go last night?” Jane asked over breakfast. They were sitting at a Woolworth’s lunch counter. It was after ten. “Just walked around,” Joe said. “I couldn’t sleep after all. Got my second wind and had to sail somewhere. And you were snoring.” “Yeah, I can bring down the plaster,” she said. “Pepper? Thanks.” She was working on a plate of eggs, bacon and toast with great enthusiasm. “Mmm. Eggs and toast. Runny eggs and toast. I’ll take it over anything.” “My dad used to say that the best meals were the ones where you could sop something up. Buns and gravy, rolls and spaghetti sauce. Eggs and toast.” “He was a wise man.” She finished her toast. “I think that’s why we’re put on this earth. To invent toast and then figure out it goes with eggs.” She daubed the corners of her mouth with a napkin and pushed her plate away. “So. Do we look like we slept in our clothes?” she asked. “I feel like I did.” “I look like someone pulled me out of the bottom of a laundry bin. You look great.” “It’s all war paint and modern fabrics.” Joe lit a cigarette from the matches she’d pulled out when they sat down. Another one from the school. Not exactly her figure, but not far off. “You ever run away from home when you were a kid?” he asked. “As a kid? No. You?” He nodded. “I don’t remember the details. My mom tells me she found me a block up the street dragging a suitcase. I was going to live with the wolves or something. She said I packed all my comics, my baseball, my model bomber, which was metal and weighed about as much as a bowling ball. Stuff like that. No change of clothes. She’d asked how I expected to make do with one set of pants and shirts, and I said I would wear a tiger skin. Like there’s a store in the jungle where you get one. In your size.” “Why did you run away?” “No idea. Couldn’t have been any good reason. I had decent folks.” She nodded. “I’ve heard about those. So. You want to start back or see what Columbus has to offer on a March afternoon?” “I think I’ve gotten the drift.” “Me too. It’ll be nice to sleep in my bed without any clothes.” “I imagine it would.” She gave him an elbow in the ribs, gently. She picked up the check. He paid. They listened to the radio on the way back to Cleveland. She slept, or pretended to. They didn’t talk much but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. If we have anything to say we’ll say it, Joe thought, and if we don’t say it today we’ll say it later. And if there’s no later then it’s best left unsaid. He didn’t quite agree with his own conclusions, but there was nothing to be done about it now. The breakfast held them through the trip; he stopped once for gas. He bought her a candy bar; she gave him half. He pulled up in front of his office around three. He got his grip out of the back seat. She slid behind the driver’s wheel. “Am I going to see you again?” Joe said. “What’s the worst thing I could say? Think.” “You could say no.” “What’s the best thing?” “Tonight.” Jane smiled. “Oh, Joe.” She put the car into gear. “Let’s try probably.” She leaned out the window to give him a kiss. She let the car roll forward – he broke the kiss and stood up. She waved and pulled into the street. “Really probably,” she shouted. He watched her drive away. She had green lights as far as he could see, and not one changed to red until it had let her pass. |
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