need to worry about a few extra pounds.
‘I’d ask if you wanted to have a drink with me.’ She nodded towards my glass. ‘But that’s not the sort of drink I had in mind.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’m sorry, too.’
She had that great accent, you know? All those long, flat vowels, but not syrupy and stupid like some. Musical more than anything, and definitely sounding good on her.
‘Can’t you just pretend it’s got rum in it?’ I asked.
‘I like rum and Coke,’ she said. ‘I might have one myself when this is finished.’ She raised her beer bottle and I leaned over and touched my glass to it.
‘Happy to keep you company though,’ I said.
She was probably a couple years older than me, but the light wasn’t too good in the place and I wasn’t bothered either way. Her hair was dirty-blonde, a bob growing out, and though her eyes were already starting to glaze over just a little, they were big and green enough. She wore a dark blouse and skirt and when she leaned toward the bar I could just see a thin white bra strap and the gap between flesh and material a little lower down.
‘How long are you in town for?’ she asked.
‘I’m heading home tomorrow.’
‘Where’s home?’
‘It keeps changing,’ I said.
‘Originally, then.’
‘Wisconsin.’
She smiled and emptied her bottle. ‘Bit warmer down here,’ she said.
I said, ‘Right,’ and laughed and took her hand when she offered it to me.
‘I’m Ellen,’ she said.
‘Chris …’
‘So why are you in Huntsville, Chris?’
‘I’m supervising some construction out at the mall,’ I said.
‘You like it?’
‘It’s all right.’
She ordered more drinks. Another beer for her and an ‘invisible rum’ and Coke for me. When she’d served us, the owner wandered down to the end of the bar and began cleaning glasses. She was a lousy eavesdropper.
‘I don’t normally drink very much,’ Ellen said. She put a third of her bottle away in one, and wiped her mouth. ‘And I know you’re thinking that lots of people who drink like fish say that, right?’
‘It’s not my business,’ I said.
She laughed, dry and empty. ‘It’s kind of a special occasion.’
‘That why you’re here with your family?’
She nodded, took another drink. ‘You might not think “special” is the right word,’ she said. ‘Not … appropriate or whatever. If I tell you why it is we’re here.’
‘You don’t have to tell me anything.’
‘You want to go outside for a cigarette?’ She reached down for the handbag at her feet. ‘God, I need a cigarette.’
‘I don’t smoke,’ I said. ‘But I’ll come with you if you like.’
She waved the idea away, then turned on her chair and stared at me. She said that she might just as well talk to a complete stranger about what was happening because she and her family weren’t talking about it a whole lot. She cleared her throat and finished her beer. Put down the bottle, then turned back to me.
‘I’m here because tomorrow at six o’clock they’re executing the man who killed my sister.’
I could not think of a single thing to say.
‘Heavy, I know.’ She reached across me for the nachos. ‘I bet you’re wishing you’d drunk your soda and walked away, right?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You’ve still got time.’
I shrugged. ‘Sounds like you could do with someone to talk with.’
She nodded, pleased, and put a hand on my leg for just a second or two. ‘My head’s buzzing with it, you know? My mom and her sister and my psycho brother have just gone to bed like it’s no big deal, or that’s what they’re telling themselves at any rate, but Jesus, I can’t just sit up there in that shitty room and take my make-up off and say goodnight like we’re all on some shopping trip or something.’ She shook her head. ‘I mean, we’ve known it’s been coming for a while, but still, I can’t just pretend this is … normal, you know?’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘It’s not
‘I’d ask if you wanted to have a drink with me.’ She nodded towards my glass. ‘But that’s not the sort of drink I had in mind.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’m sorry, too.’
She had that great accent, you know? All those long, flat vowels, but not syrupy and stupid like some. Musical more than anything, and definitely sounding good on her.
‘Can’t you just pretend it’s got rum in it?’ I asked.
‘I like rum and Coke,’ she said. ‘I might have one myself when this is finished.’ She raised her beer bottle and I leaned over and touched my glass to it.
‘Happy to keep you company though,’ I said.
She was probably a couple years older than me, but the light wasn’t too good in the place and I wasn’t bothered either way. Her hair was dirty-blonde, a bob growing out, and though her eyes were already starting to glaze over just a little, they were big and green enough. She wore a dark blouse and skirt and when she leaned toward the bar I could just see a thin white bra strap and the gap between flesh and material a little lower down.
‘How long are you in town for?’ she asked.
‘I’m heading home tomorrow.’
‘Where’s home?’
‘It keeps changing,’ I said.
‘Originally, then.’
‘Wisconsin.’
She smiled and emptied her bottle. ‘Bit warmer down here,’ she said.
I said, ‘Right,’ and laughed and took her hand when she offered it to me.
‘I’m Ellen,’ she said.
‘Chris …’
‘So why are you in Huntsville, Chris?’
‘I’m supervising some construction out at the mall,’ I said.
‘You like it?’
‘It’s all right.’
She ordered more drinks. Another beer for her and an ‘invisible rum’ and Coke for me. When she’d served us, the owner wandered down to the end of the bar and began cleaning glasses. She was a lousy eavesdropper.
‘I don’t normally drink very much,’ Ellen said. She put a third of her bottle away in one, and wiped her mouth. ‘And I know you’re thinking that lots of people who drink like fish say that, right?’
‘It’s not my business,’ I said.
She laughed, dry and empty. ‘It’s kind of a special occasion.’
‘That why you’re here with your family?’
She nodded, took another drink. ‘You might not think “special” is the right word,’ she said. ‘Not … appropriate or whatever. If I tell you why it is we’re here.’
‘You don’t have to tell me anything.’
‘You want to go outside for a cigarette?’ She reached down for the handbag at her feet. ‘God, I need a cigarette.’
‘I don’t smoke,’ I said. ‘But I’ll come with you if you like.’
She waved the idea away, then turned on her chair and stared at me. She said that she might just as well talk to a complete stranger about what was happening because she and her family weren’t talking about it a whole lot. She cleared her throat and finished her beer. Put down the bottle, then turned back to me.
‘I’m here because tomorrow at six o’clock they’re executing the man who killed my sister.’
I could not think of a single thing to say.
‘Heavy, I know.’ She reached across me for the nachos. ‘I bet you’re wishing you’d drunk your soda and walked away, right?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You’ve still got time.’
I shrugged. ‘Sounds like you could do with someone to talk with.’
She nodded, pleased, and put a hand on my leg for just a second or two. ‘My head’s buzzing with it, you know? My mom and her sister and my psycho brother have just gone to bed like it’s no big deal, or that’s what they’re telling themselves at any rate, but Jesus, I can’t just sit up there in that shitty room and take my make-up off and say goodnight like we’re all on some shopping trip or something.’ She shook her head. ‘I mean, we’ve known it’s been coming for a while, but still, I can’t just pretend this is … normal, you know?’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘It’s not
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