That first night the fans roared, and the two o’clock train came through and shook the water in the glass beside my bed. I lay there wide awake and thought, what in the world have you done, Judith?
The second night I slept clear through to five.
It was Todd who found out.
He drives right past the elevator on his way to the plant for first shift. On the ninth morning, a Monday, he saw my Buick parked in front of the Brandt house at a quarter to six. A light on in the window. A woman in a housecoat watering violets.
Michelle called that night at seven.
I knew from the way she said “Mom” that she knew.
“You rented a house.”
“I did.”
“From Mr. Brandt. By the elevator. Todd saw your car.”
“That’s right.”
“You have been living four blocks from me for over a week, and you let me keep asking if you’d thought about it.”
