Empty Mile by Matthew Stokoe

make it sound like we had some sort of discussion. The ‘talking’ was you whining about how unhappy you were and me trying to tell you how much I loved you so you wouldn’t go. And what good did it do? Did it fix all your problems? Did it make Stan better? Did it make everything all right again?”
    “No.”
    “What? I didn’t hear.”
    “No, it didn’t. It was a huge fucking mistake.”
    Marla took a breath and let it out slowly. “Do you know how many nights I cried over you? Do you have any idea how empty I felt?”
    I put my arms around her. She kept hers by her sides but she rested her head against my chest and spoke quietly.
    “I knew you’d do this. Just turn up one day … Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m coming apart.”
    “Do you want me to go?”
    She was silent for a while. When she spoke again there was such a note of defeat in her voice I felt dirty.
    “No.”
    I kissed her. For a moment she responded, pressing herself against me, then she pushed away abruptly.
    “Enough, Johnny! Jesus! We’re going to have to take some time about this, don’t you think?”
    We sat at a small wooden table that stood against one wall of the kitchen and drank coffee and sidestepped the misery that boiled in our pasts by talking about the plain surface of our lives.
    Marla told me about keeping the house on after I left, how she’d had some bad times but had turned things around a year ago when she’d landed her job as an administrative assistant for the town council. I told her about London. Twenty minutes later, as she was making her final preparations for work, I raised the subject of my father and Patricia Prentice.
    “I drove by yesterday.”
    “Really?”
    “In the afternoon. I saw a couple of people come in here. Into the house. Their cars were parked in the driveway.”
    “You aren’t the only person I know.”
    “You know who they were, then?”
    Marla dropped her house keys into her bag. “Just some friends.”
    “Friends, huh?”
    “All right. Jesus. You saw who they were.”
    “You can’t blame me for being curious about what my father was doing here.”
    “Why don’t you ask him?”
    “As if I could ever ask him anything like that.”
    “He wouldn’t want me to tell you.”
    “So what?”
    Marla sighed. “I rent them a room.”
    “What would they want a room for? Our house is way big.”
    “A room to fuck in. Okay?”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    “They don’t like doing it in motels?”
    “It’s more discrete here.”
    “And being she’s who she is, discretion would be important.”
    “You know her?”
    “I met her at Stan’s work.”
    Marla shrugged. “I’ve known your dad a long time. Patricia’s kind of a friend. When he asked, I couldn’t really say no. They only use it when I’m out at work.”
    “How long has this been going on?”
    “Six months.”
    “Wow, good for him.”
    “I suppose.”
    “You don’t approve?”
    “Pat’s not well. You see them together and you just get this feeling of desperation on her part, like he’s something she’s grabbing onto, trying stay afloat.”
    We left the house. As Marla got into her car I put my hand on her arm.
    “I could come back this evening, after you finish work.”
    She looked at me for a moment, then shook her head slowly.
    “You’re a smart guy, Johnny, but sometimes you can be fucking dumb. I have a lot of stuff to think about. When I’m done I’ll call you; until then don’t come around, okay?”
    She kissed me, then she drove away.
    At lunchtime I went out to the garden center and Stan and I had a short meeting with Bill Prentice about leasing his unused warehouse. He said he’d think about it and get back to us in a few days.

CHAPTER 6
    T hat Saturday we had a family outing. My father drove Stan and I out of Oakridge and into the hills. The forest was sparser here and ran down into gullies and small valleys. It was a hot day and the air had the dusty smell of dry pine and thirsty soil.
    We