Grey Zone by Clea Simon Page A

a tweed overcoat. ‘Sweetie!’
    The wind was blowing again, though not with the clawing ferocity of a few minutes earlier. Her words were getting lost. ‘Chris Sorenson!’
    And with that he turned, prompting Dulcie to squeeze her way past the tweed overcoat and through a gathering of Japanese tourists. ‘Chris!’
    He was laughing as she made her way through, his wide mouth open in the generous smile she had come to love. ‘Dulcie,’ he said. But as she drew near, expecting one of his equally generous hugs, she found herself stopping short. Standing to his right, and looking down at her with a frankly critical expression, was a woman about their age. Only, she was as tall as Chris, with the kind of silky auburn hair that Dulcie could only dream about. There were freckles on her cheeks, too, but beyond that, all similarities went out the window. This woman was slender and graceful, and dressed in a camel-hair coat that probably cost more than Dulcie’s computer. And she had slipped her hand around Chris’s elbow, holding on to the tall geek as if she owned him.
    â€˜Chris?’ Her mouth suddenly dry, Dulcie didn’t know if the word was even audible.
    â€˜Dulcie. I thought you’d be stuck tutoring all day.’ Chris was still smiling. Dulcie looked from his face down to his arm. The hand had been withdrawn, but she could picture it: kid-leather glove and all.
    â€˜I had a cancellation.’ She choked out the words. ‘I called you.’
    â€˜I’ve had my phone off.’ He was talking as if it were the most natural thing in the world. ‘I was trying to get Rusti through her fractals program, and we were both having trouble concentrating.’
    I’ll bet . The words came unbidden, and Dulcie bit her lip. ‘Rusti?’ She’d heard the name. Knew that Chris had taken on a private student to earn some extra money. ‘I assumed . . . with the name . . .’
    â€˜Ah, you thought that anybody looking to place into Applied Math would be male, didn’t you?’ His smile was broader now, and Dulcie’s heart jumped just a bit. He didn’t seem to be taking this seriously. She had made a silly – a sexist – assumption.
    She shrugged. ‘I guess I did. Glad to meet you.’ She held out a mittened hand and waited while Chris’s student reached to shake it. Was there a slight hesitation? Dulcie couldn’t trust herself to judge.
    â€˜Charmed.’ The tall woman had a slight twang to her voice. Alabama? Texas? Somewhere warm, that was for sure. Somewhere where sports were important. ‘You must be the girlfriend.’
    â€˜Yup.’ Dulcie knew she was nodding like a fool, but she couldn’t stop. ‘That’s me. I, I mean.’ She looked from Rusti to her beau, wondering if she could salvage the situation. ‘I’d actually just called Chris to see if he wanted to have some lunch. I mean, I have a little time free. Maybe you’d join us?’ Her smile was as genuine as she could make it.
    â€˜Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.’ Chris seemed to be backing away. It didn’t make sense. ‘We grabbed a bite at the Bagelry already, and I’ve booked some time for us in the Science Center. We’ve got to run. Besides, weren’t you going to stop by the university police?’
    â€˜Um, yeah.’ She choked it out, her smile setting into concrete on her face. ‘Call me?’
    â€˜Of course.’ He bent to kiss her, a quick, almost formal buss. ‘Later, Dulce.’
    She stood there and watched them cross the street. A matched pair, they bent their heads together. Another wind brought her the sound of a woman’s laugh and a small, sharp pain, like tiny kitten teeth sinking into her heart.

SEVEN
    O n autopilot, Dulcie headed to Lala’s. Bagels had lost their appeal, and now nothing but a three-bean burger with Lala’s famous