"There's always something I can do."
In the moonlight shining through the kitchen window, Jo's skin glowed a luminous white, and Katie had the sense that she never went out in the sun. The wine made the room move, the walls buckle. Katie could feel tears beginning to form in her eyes and it was all she could do to blink them back. Her mouth was dry.
"Not always," Katie whispered. She turned to face the window. Beyond the glass, the moon hung low over the trees. Katie swallowed, suddenly feeling as if she were observing herself from across the room. She could see herself sitting at the table with Jo, and when she began to speak, her voice didn't seem to be her own. "I had a friend once. She was in a terrible marriage and she couldn't talk to anyone. He used to hit her, and in the beginning, she told him that if it ever happened again, she would leave him. He swore that it wouldn't and she believed him. But it only got worse after that, like when his dinner was cold, or when she mentioned that she'd visited with one of the neighbors who was walking by with his dog. She just chatted with him, but that night, her husband threw her into a mirror."
Katie stared at the floor. Linoleum was peeling up in the corners, but she hadn't known how to fix it. She'd tried to glue it, but the glue hadn't worked and the corners had curled again.
"He always apologized, and sometimes he would even cry because of the bruises he'd made on her arms or legs or her back. He would say that he hated what he'd done, but in the next breath tell her she'd deserved it. That if she'd been more careful, it wouldn't have happened. That if she'd been paying attention or hadn't been so stupid, he wouldn't have lost his temper. She tried to change. She worked hard at trying to be a better wife and to do things the way he wanted, but it was never enough."
Katie could feel the pressure of tears behind her eyes and though she tried again to stop them, she felt them sliding down her cheek. Jo was motionless across the table, watching her without moving.
"And she loved him! In the beginning, he was so sweet to her. He made her feel safe. On the night they met, she'd been working, and after she finished her shift, two men were following her. When she went around the corner, one of them grabbed her and clamped his hand over her mouth, and even though she tried to get away, the men were so much stronger and she didn't know what would have happened except that her future husband came around the corner and hit one of them hard on the back of the neck and he fell to the ground. And then he grabbed the other one and threw him into the wall, and it was over. Just like that. He helped her up and walked her home and the next day he took her out for coffee. He was kind and he treated her like a princess, right up until she was on her honeymoon."
Katie knew she shouldn't be telling Jo any of this, but she couldn't stop. "My friend tried to get away twice. One time, she came back on her own because she had nowhere else to go. And the second time she ran away, she thought she was finally free. But he hunted her down and dragged her back to the house. At home, he beat her and put a gun to her head and told her that if she ever ran away again, he'd kill her. He'd kill any man she cared for. And she believed him, because by then, she knew he was crazy. But she was trapped. He never gave her any money, he never allowed her to leave the house. He used to drive by the house when he was supposed to be working, just to make sure she was there. He monitored the phone records and called all the time, and he wouldn't let her get a driver's license. One time, when she woke up in the middle of the night, she found him standing over the bed, just staring at her. He'd been drinking and holding the gun again and she was too scared to say anything other than to ask him to come to bed. But that was when she knew that if she stayed, the husband would eventually kill her."
Katie swiped at her eyes, her fingers slick with salty tears. She could barely breathe but the words kept coming. "She started to steal money from his wallet. Never more than a dollar or two, because otherwise he would notice. Normally, he locked his wallet up at night, but sometimes, he would forget. It took so long to get enough money for her to escape. Because that's what she had to do. Escape. She had to go someplace where he would never find her, because she knew he wouldn't stop searching for her. And she couldn't tell anyone anything, because her family was gone and she knew the police wouldn't do anything. If he so much as suspected anything, he would kill her. So she stole and saved and found coins in the sofa cushions and in the washing machine. She hid the money in a plastic bag that she put beneath a flowerpot, and every time he went outside she was sure he would find it. It took so long to get the money she needed because she had to have enough to get far away so that he'd never find her. So that she could start over again."
Katie wasn't aware of when it had happened, but she realized that Jo had taken her hand and she was no longer watching herself from across the room. She could taste salt on her lips and imagined that her soul was leaking out. She wanted desperately to sleep.
In the silence Jo continued to hold her gaze. "Your friend has a lot of courage," she said quietly.
"No," Katie said. "My friend is scared all the time."
"That's what courage is. If she weren't scared, she wouldn't need courage in the first place. I admire what she did." Jo gave her hand a squeeze. "I think I'd like your friend. I'm glad you told me about her."
Katie glanced away, feeling utterly drained. "I probably shouldn't have told you all that."
Jo shrugged. "I wouldn't worry too much. One thing you'll learn about me is that I'm good with secrets. Especially when it comes to people I don't know, right?"
Katie nodded. "Right."
Jo stayed with Katie for another hour, but steered the conversation toward easier ground. Katie talked about working at Ivan's and some of the customers she was getting to know. Jo asked about the best way to get the paint out from under her fingernails. With the wine gone, Katie's dizziness began to fade, leaving in its wake a sense of exhaustion. Jo, too, began to yawn, and they finally rose from the table. Jo helped Katie clean up, though there wasn't much to do aside from washing a couple of dishes, and Katie walked her to the door.
As Jo stepped onto the porch, she paused. "I think we had a visitor," she said.
"What are you talking about?"
"There's a bicycle leaning against your tree."
Katie followed her outside. Beyond the yellow glow of the porch light, the world was dark and the outlines of the distant pine trees reminded Katie of the ragged edge of a black hole. Fireflies mimicked the stars, twinkling and blinking, and Katie squinted, realizing that Jo was right.
"Whose bicycle is that?" Katie asked.
"I don't know."
"Did you hear anyone come up?"
"No. But I think someone left it for you. See?" She pointed. "Isn't that a bow on the handlebars?"
Katie squinted, spotting the bow. A woman's bike, it had wire baskets on each side of the rear wheel, as well as another wire basket on the front. A chain was wrapped loosely around the seat, with the key still in the lock. "Who would bring me a bicycle?"
"Why do you keep asking me these questions? I don't know what's going on any more than you do."
Katie and Jo stepped off the porch. Though the puddles had largely vanished, sinking into the sandy loam, the grass held on to the rain and dampened the tips of her shoes as Katie moved through it. She touched the bicycle, then the bow, rubbing the ribbon between her fingers like a rug merchant. A card was tucked beneath it, and Katie reached for it.
"It's from Alex," she said, sounding baffled.
"Alex the store guy Alex, or another Alex?"
"The store guy."
"What does it say?"
Katie shook her head, trying to make sense of it before holding it out. I thought you might enjoy this.
Jo tapped the note. "I guess that means he's as interested in you as you are in him."
"I'm not interested in him!"
"Of course not." Jo winked. "Why would you be?"
8
Alex was sweeping the floor near the coolers when Katie entered the store. He had
guessed that she would show up to talk to him about the bicycle first thing in the morning. After leaning the broom handle against the glass, he retucked his shirt and ran a quick hand through his hair. Kristen had been waiting for her all morning and she'd already popped up before the door had even closed.
"Hey, Miss Katie!" Kristen said. "Did you get the bicycle?"
"I did. Thank you," Katie answered. "That's why I'm here."
"We worked really hard on it."
"You did a great job," she said. "Is your dad around?"
"Uh-huh. He's right over there." She pointed. "He's coming."
Alex watched as Katie turned toward him.
"Hey, Katie," he said.
When he was close, she crossed her arms. "Can I talk to you outside for a minute?"
He could hear the coolness in her voice and knew she was doing her best not to show her anger in front of Kristen.
"Of course," he said, reaching for the door. Pushing it open, he followed her outside and found himself admiring her figure as she headed toward the bicycle.
Stopping near the bike, she turned to face him. In the front basket was the umbrella she'd borrowed the day before. She patted the seat, her face serious. "Can I ask what this is about?"
"Do you like it?"
"Why did you buy it for me?"
"I didn't buy it for you," he said.
She blinked. "But your note..."
He shrugged. "It's been in the shed collecting dust for the last couple of years. Believe me, the last thing I'd do is buy you a bicycle."
Her eyes flashed. "That's not the point! You keep giving me things and you've got to stop. I don't want anything from you. I don't need an umbrella or vegetables or wine. And I don't need a bike!"
"Then give it away." He shrugged. "Because I don't want it, either."
She fell silent and he watched as confusion gave way to frustration, then finally futility. In the end, she shook her head and turned to leave. Before she could take a step, he cleared his throat. "Before you go, though, would you at least do me the favor of listening to my explanation?"
She glared at him over her shoulder. "It doesn't matter."
"It might not matter to you, but it matters to me."
Her eyes held his, wavering before they finally dropped. When she sighed, he motioned to the bench in front of the store. He'd originally placed it there, wedged between the ice maker and a rack of propane tanks, as a joke, knowing that it would sit unused. Who would want to stare at a parking lot and the road out front? To his surprise, on most days it was almost always occupied; the only reason it was empty now was because it was so early.
Katie hesitated before taking a seat, and Alex laced his fingers together in his lap.
"I wasn't lying about the fact that the bike has been collecting dust for the last couple of years. It used to belong to my wife," Alex said. "She loved that bike and she rode it all the time. Once, she even rode it all the way to Wilmington, but of course, by the time she got there, she was tired and I had to go pick her up, even though I didn't have anyone to mind the store. I literally had to close the place up for a couple of hours." He paused. "That was the last ride she took on it. That night, she had her first seizure and I had to rush her to the hospital. After that, she got progressively sicker, and she never rode again. I put the bike in the garage, but every time I see it, I can't help but think back on that horrible night." He straightened up. "I know I should have already gotten rid of it, but I just couldn't give it to someone who'd ride it once or twice and then forget about it. I wanted it to go to someone who would appreciate it as much as she did. To someone who was going to use it. That's what my wife would have wanted. If you'd known her, you'd understand. You'd be doing me a favor."
When she spoke, her voice was subdued. "I can't take your wife's bike."
"So you're still giving it back?"
When she nodded, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "You and I are a lot more alike than you realize. In your shoes, I would have done exactly the same thing. You don't want to feel like you owe anyone anything. You want to prove to yourself that you can make it on your own, right?"
She opened her mouth to answer but said nothing. In the silence, he went on.
"After my wife died, I was the same way. For a long time. People would drop by the store and a lot of them would tell me to call them if I ever needed anything. Most of them knew I didn't have any family here and they meant well, but I never called anyone because it just wasn't me. Even if I did want something, I wouldn't have known how to ask, but most of the time, I didn't even know what it was that I wanted. All I knew was that I was at the end of my rope, and to continue the metaphor, for a long time, I was barely hanging on. I mean, all at once, I had to take care of two young kids as well as the store, and the kids were younger then and needed even more attention than they do now. And then one day, Joyce showed up." He looked at her. "Have you met Joyce yet? Works a few afternoons a week including Sundays, older lady, talks to everyone? Josh and Kristen love her."
"I'm not sure."
"It's not important. But anyway, she showed up one afternoon, maybe around five or so, and she simply told me that she was going to take care of the kids while I spent the next week at the beach. She'd already arranged a place for me and she told me that I didn't have a choice in the matter because, in her opinion, I was heading straight for a nervous breakdown."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stifle the memory of those days. "I was upset about it at first. I mean, they're my kids, right? And what kind of father was I to make people think that I couldn't handle being a father? But unlike anyone else, Joyce didn't ask me to call if I needed anything. She knew what I was going through and she went ahead and did what she thought was right. The next thing I knew, I was on my way to the beach. And she was right. The first two days, I was still a wreck. But over the next few days, I went for long walks, read some books, slept late, and by the time I got back, I realized that I was more relaxed than I'd been in a long time..."
He trailed off, feeling the weight of her scrutiny.
"I don't know why you're telling me this."
He turned toward her. "Both of us know that if I'd asked if you wanted the bicycle, you would have said no. So, like Joyce did with me, I just went ahead and did it because it was the right thing to do. Because I learned that it's okay to accept some help every now and then." He nodded toward the bike. "Take it," he said. "I have no use for it, and you have to admit that it would make getting to and from work a whole lot easier."
It took a few seconds before he saw her shoulders relax and she turned to him with a wry smile. "Did you practice that speech?"
"Of course." He tried to look sheepish. "But you'll take it?"
She hesitated. "A bike might be nice," she finally admitted. "Thank you."
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. As he stared at her profile, he noted again how pretty she was, though he had the sense that she didn't think so. Which only made her even more appealing.
"You're welcome," he said.
"But no more freebies, okay? You've done more than enough for me already."
"Fair enough." He nodded toward the bike. "Did it ride okay? With the baskets, I mean?"
"It was fine. Why?"
"Because Kristen and Josh helped me put them on yesterday. One of those rainy-day projects, you know? Kristen picked them out. Just so you know, she also thought you needed sparkly handlebar grips, too, but I drew the line at that."
"I wouldn't have minded sparkly handlebar grips."
He laughed. "I'll let her know."
She hesitated. "You're doing a good job, you know. With your kids, I mean."
"Thank you."
"I mean it. And I know it hasn't been easy."
"That's the thing about life. A lot of the time, it isn't easy at all. We just have to try to make the best of it. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah," she said. "I think I do."
/> The door to the store opened, and as Alex leaned forward he saw Josh scanning the parking lot, Kristen close behind him. With brown hair and brown eyes, Josh resembled his mom. His hair was a riotous mess, and Alex knew he'd just crawled out of bed.
"Over here, guys."
Josh scratched his head as he shuffled toward them. Kristen beamed, waving at Katie.
"Hey, Dad?" Josh asked.
"Yeah?"
"We wanted to ask if we're still going to the beach today. You promised to take us."
"That was the plan."
"With a barbecue?"
"Of course."
"Okay," he said. He rubbed his nose. "Hi, Miss Katie."
Katie waved at Josh and Kristen.
"Do you like the bike?" Kristen chirped.
"Yes. Thank you."
"I had to help my dad fix it," Josh informed her. "He's not too good with tools."
Katie glanced at Alex with a smirk. "He didn't mention that."
"It's okay. I knew what to do. But he had to help me with the new inner tube."
Kristen fixed her gaze on Katie. "Are you going to come to the beach, too?"
Katie sat up straighter. "I don't think so."
"Why not?" Kristen asked.
"She's probably working," Alex said.
"Actually, I'm not," she said. "I have a couple of things to do around the house."
"Then you have to come," Kristen cried. "It's really fun."
"That's your family time," she insisted. "I wouldn't want to be in the way."
"You won't be in the way. And it's really fun. You can watch me swim. Please?" Kristen begged.
Alex stayed quiet, loath to add pressure. He assumed Katie would say no, but surprising him, she nodded slightly. When she spoke, her voice was soft.
"Okay," she finally said.
9
After getting back from the store, Katie parked the bike at the back of the cottage and went inside to change. She didn't have a bathing suit, but she wouldn't have worn one even if she did. As natural as it was for a teenager to walk around in front of strangers in the equivalent of underwear and a bra, she wasn't comfortable wearing something like that in front of Alex on a day out with his kids. Or frankly, even without the kids.