Page 91 of A Week Away

“It was in the newspaper.”

“Really? That seems?—”

“Edwin jumped the gun. She’s pissed.”

“I’ll call tomorrow. Ronnie?—”

“You disappeared two days ago. Completely disappeared.”

“Um. What do you mean? I left last Friday.”

“You were in Reno for a few hours with that kid and then the two of you got on a flight to Detroit. I don’t know where you stayed Saturday night, but I do know you ate at a Taco Bell—you hate Taco Bell.”

“I do.”

Ronnie loved Taco Bell. It was a bone of contention.

“Sunday morning you went to a place called The Clock Diner. You weren’t alone. You took a trip to K-Mart and bought a lot of stuff. Sunday night you stayed at a Motel 6. The next morning you were back at The Clock Diner. Then you disappeared. Yesterday this arrived.”

From a drawer in our China closet he took out the FedEx package I’d sent. Opened.

I said, “It should have gotten here on Tuesday. I sent it overnight.”

“You sent your ID and credit card home.”

“I needed to be someone else for a few days.”

He stared at me for a moment. He’d been a good little detective. I suspected he was much better at this than I’d ever thought. In his spot, I’d have done the same.

“How did you pay for your ticket home?”

“Just a touch of fraud.”

“Can it be traced back to you?”

“I don’t think so.” Then I decided to be more definitive, “No. I’m sure it can’t be.”

We were quiet for a long, uncomfortable moment. I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “I’m sorry, Ronnie. I had to go… I promise I’ll make it up to you.

“There are things I don’t know about you. A lot of things. But Idoknow you. You wouldn’t have left like that to help some kid you didn’t know. Not without talking to me. You did what you did for us. For me.”

“That’s right,” I said, because it was right

Taking a step forward, he reached up and touched my face.

“Then welcome home.”

EPILOGUE

Fall 1982

The apartment wasn’t very nice. The walls were paneled in dark, make-believe walnut. The young woman’s four-year-old was crying in the living room. She got out of bed, taking the sheets with her, opened the bedroom door, and yelled at him. Then she went back to the bed.

“You need to go soon,” she said to the young man beside her. She kissed him again, and whispered, “You’re going to do it for me, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you just divorce him, Jojo?”

“Then he’ll always be around wanting to see the kid.”