commanding and energetic, charged up by righteous anger.
Dimly lit houses slid past them, and a dog chased thecar a block or so before giving up. Danny started whistling a tune, something sort of jazzy and hootchy-kootchy. Probably they’d had a stripper at Bucky Hargrove’s party, and waitresses in fishnet stockings and girls popping out of cakes and such. And Ian, meanwhile, had been warming baby bottles. He swung toward Danny sharply and said, “I might as well inform you right now that you have lost your favorite sitter for all eternity.”
“Huh? What say?” Danny asked.
“I had a huge, important engagement at eight-thirty. I’m talking crucial. Lucy knew that. She swore on a stack of Bibles she’d be back in time.”
“Where is she, anyhow?” Danny asked, flicking his turn signal.
“Drinking with a girlfriend. So she says.”
“I didn’t even know she was planning to go out.”
“Her waitress friend, Dot. Is what she
claims.
”
“Dot from the Fill ’Er Up Café,” Danny agreed.
“Goddamnit, Danny, are you blind?” Ian shouted.
Danny’s eyes widened and he looked frantically in all directions. “Blind?” he asked. “What?”
“She’s out more often than she’s in! Don’t you ever wonder who she’s with?”
“Why, no, I …”
“And how about that baby?”
“Baby?”
“Premature baby? Get serious. Premature baby with dimples?”
Danny opened his mouth.
“Two months early and breathing on her own, no incubator, no problems?”
“She was—”
“She was somebody else’s,” Ian said.
“Come again?”
“I just want to know how long you intend to be a fall guy,” Ian said.
Danny turned onto Waverly and drew up in front of the house. He cut the engine and looked over at Ian. He seemed entirely sober now. He said, “What are you trying to tell me, Ian?”
“She’s out all afternoon any time she can get a sitter,” Ian said. “She comes back perfumed and laughing and wearing clothes she can’t afford. That white knit dress. Haven’t you ever seen her white dress? Where’d she get it? How’d she pay for it? How come she married you quick as a flash and then had a baby just seven months later?”
“You’re talking about that dress with the kind of like crisscrossed middle,” Danny said.
“That’s the one.”
Danny started rubbing his right temple with his fingertips. When it didn’t seem he meant to say anything further, Ian got out of the car.
Inside the house, only the hall lamp was lit. His parents must still be at the Finches’. Beastie rose from the rug, yawning, and followed him up the stairs, which he climbed two steps at a time. He went directly to his room, fell to his knees in front of the closet, and rooted through the clutter for his gym shoes. Once he’d located the foil strip, he slid it into his rear pocket and stood up. Then he ducked into the bathroom. The biggest night of his life and he couldn’t even stop to shower. He wet his fingers at the sink and ran them through his hair. He bared his teeth to the mirror and debated whether to brush them.
In the street below, an engine roared up. What on earth? He drew aside the curtain and peered out. It was Danny’s Chevy, all right. The headlights were two yellow ribbons swinging away from the curb. The car took off abruptly, peeling rubber. Ian dropped the curtain.He turned to confront his own stunned face in the mirror.
Near the stone wall at the end of the block the brakes should have squealed, but instead the roaring sound grew louder. It grew until something had to happen, and then there was a gigantic, explosive, complicated crash and then a delicate tinkle and then silence. Ian went on staring into his own eyes. He couldn’t seem to look away. He couldn’t even blink, couldn’t move, because once he moved then time would start rolling forward again, and he already knew that nothing in his life would ever be the same.
2
The Department of Reality
W hen the baby woke from
Dimly lit houses slid past them, and a dog chased thecar a block or so before giving up. Danny started whistling a tune, something sort of jazzy and hootchy-kootchy. Probably they’d had a stripper at Bucky Hargrove’s party, and waitresses in fishnet stockings and girls popping out of cakes and such. And Ian, meanwhile, had been warming baby bottles. He swung toward Danny sharply and said, “I might as well inform you right now that you have lost your favorite sitter for all eternity.”
“Huh? What say?” Danny asked.
“I had a huge, important engagement at eight-thirty. I’m talking crucial. Lucy knew that. She swore on a stack of Bibles she’d be back in time.”
“Where is she, anyhow?” Danny asked, flicking his turn signal.
“Drinking with a girlfriend. So she says.”
“I didn’t even know she was planning to go out.”
“Her waitress friend, Dot. Is what she
claims.
”
“Dot from the Fill ’Er Up Café,” Danny agreed.
“Goddamnit, Danny, are you blind?” Ian shouted.
Danny’s eyes widened and he looked frantically in all directions. “Blind?” he asked. “What?”
“She’s out more often than she’s in! Don’t you ever wonder who she’s with?”
“Why, no, I …”
“And how about that baby?”
“Baby?”
“Premature baby? Get serious. Premature baby with dimples?”
Danny opened his mouth.
“Two months early and breathing on her own, no incubator, no problems?”
“She was—”
“She was somebody else’s,” Ian said.
“Come again?”
“I just want to know how long you intend to be a fall guy,” Ian said.
Danny turned onto Waverly and drew up in front of the house. He cut the engine and looked over at Ian. He seemed entirely sober now. He said, “What are you trying to tell me, Ian?”
“She’s out all afternoon any time she can get a sitter,” Ian said. “She comes back perfumed and laughing and wearing clothes she can’t afford. That white knit dress. Haven’t you ever seen her white dress? Where’d she get it? How’d she pay for it? How come she married you quick as a flash and then had a baby just seven months later?”
“You’re talking about that dress with the kind of like crisscrossed middle,” Danny said.
“That’s the one.”
Danny started rubbing his right temple with his fingertips. When it didn’t seem he meant to say anything further, Ian got out of the car.
Inside the house, only the hall lamp was lit. His parents must still be at the Finches’. Beastie rose from the rug, yawning, and followed him up the stairs, which he climbed two steps at a time. He went directly to his room, fell to his knees in front of the closet, and rooted through the clutter for his gym shoes. Once he’d located the foil strip, he slid it into his rear pocket and stood up. Then he ducked into the bathroom. The biggest night of his life and he couldn’t even stop to shower. He wet his fingers at the sink and ran them through his hair. He bared his teeth to the mirror and debated whether to brush them.
In the street below, an engine roared up. What on earth? He drew aside the curtain and peered out. It was Danny’s Chevy, all right. The headlights were two yellow ribbons swinging away from the curb. The car took off abruptly, peeling rubber. Ian dropped the curtain.He turned to confront his own stunned face in the mirror.
Near the stone wall at the end of the block the brakes should have squealed, but instead the roaring sound grew louder. It grew until something had to happen, and then there was a gigantic, explosive, complicated crash and then a delicate tinkle and then silence. Ian went on staring into his own eyes. He couldn’t seem to look away. He couldn’t even blink, couldn’t move, because once he moved then time would start rolling forward again, and he already knew that nothing in his life would ever be the same.
2
The Department of Reality
W hen the baby woke from
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