Ten Times Guilty by Brenda Hill

career by then.
    “Looks like this old place is gonna come down sooner than everyone thought,” Rita continued.
    No, no, no! Tracy hardly dared to breathe. She couldn’t lose her job now, not when she was finally getting things together.
    “When?”
    Rita shrugged, her spiral curls bobbing on her shoulder.
    “Not sure exactly. I think he said a couple of years. At least that gives us all some time.”
    Tracy felt sick. A couple of years meant she couldn’t wait to start classes. She’d have to find a way to get into school in three weeks and hope like hell the museum wouldn’t close until she graduated. She could try to get another job, but then she’d have to worry about lost time, not to mention transportation and clothing. She’d just have to talk to Mr. Madden about more hours. A lot more hours.
    “What’s the matter? You look a little green around the gills.”
    “My school.”
    “Oh, I forgot. Gee kid, that’s too bad.” Rita checked her watch. “Mr. Madden might still be here. He said he was going to tack the notice on the bulletin board. Go see if you can catch him. Maybe he can tell you more.”
    Downstairs, she spotted Karr coming down the hallway. Oh no, not now. Maybe if she quietly turned around and headed to the ladies room, he wouldn’t see her.
    “Tracy! Glad to run into you.” Holding onto his holster, he plopped down on a green chair. “Sit a minute.”
    Damn, damn, damn. She looked at her watch.
    “I can’t right now,” she told him. “I want to catch Mr. Madden before he leaves.”
    “Too late. He’s already gone. Left about five minutes ago. So why don’t you just sit down and relax. Have you had a chance to think about going out with me? We could have a drink when you get off.”
    “I don’t drink very much.”
    “Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully. “If you get snockered, I’m big and strong. I’ll take real good care of you.”
    “Karr, I’m sorry, but I don’t think so.”
    “But why? We don’t have to get a drink, we can go anyplace you’d like. Just name—” 
    “Please, Mommy,” a shrill voice pleaded. A woman in a light blue sweat suit entered the lounge leading a little girl about five years old. Smears of chocolate covered the child’s mouth and cheeks. On their way to the restroom, the little girl whined again.
    “I have to go, Karr,” Tracy said, taking advantage of the distraction. “I’ll see you later.” Glad for the escape, she hurried up the steps before he had a chance to say anything. Why didn’t he take the hint and leave her alone? It would save embarrassment for both of them.
    Back upstairs, Tracy planned the next day.
     
    ***
     
    That night Tracy couldn’t sleep. Unwrapping the tangled sheet from her legs for the fourth time, she sat up, switched on the table lamp and looked at the clock. Three-thirty. God.
    She tiptoed over to look down at Ritchie who was sleeping on his back, his blanket clutched in his left hand. He was going to be a lefty, just like her, she thought fondly, bending over and lightly kissing him on the cheek. She turned out her light. No use waking him.
    Maybe a cup of tea would relax her. She put the kettle on to boil, then paced back and forth across the tiny kitchen.
    What was she going to do? Finally, after her childhood and her disastrous short marriage, she had her life in some sort of order. She had a goal and a plan. Long range to be sure, but still a plan. And look what had happened.
    Of all the times for the city to make renovations, it had to be when she desperately needed to hang onto her job. The whistle on the kettle shrilled and she made a dash to grab it before it could wake the baby.
    The baby. Leaving the light on over the sink, she took her tea to the crib and stood sipping while watching him sleep. Even though times were hard, she thanked God for the gift of his life. His love was the only thing of value she had, and she constantly marveled at that love. No matter her mood, no matter how