The Night Before by David Fulmer Page A

But I don’t think he’s ever going to get anywhere with it.” Karen said, “But he’s good with the kids.”
    â€œOh, he’s great with the kids. He’s just not there with me most of the time. I mean we aren’t… I don’t know. Anyway, I felt… empty, I guess. Lost. Alone.”
    â€œEverybody feels that way sometimes.”
    Mariel tore a paper towel from the roll on the shelf and dabbed her eyes. “But it passes, doesn’t it? I’m not talking about something that goes away when I’m feeling better.”
    Karen paused for a moment, then said, “Did you want to get caught? Because it was pretty damn dumb. I mean, right there in the house?”
    Mariel said, “I don’t know. Maybe I did.” She sighed and dabbed her nose. “I’ve been thinking that this is going to be my life. I’ll go to work and Joe will sit at that computer and the next thing I know, the kids will be gone and then…”
    â€œAnd then what?”
    â€œNothing. That’s the point.”
    Karen said, “And so your answer to this existential dilemma was to screw Don Banks?” Mariel began to weep again. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Come on, stop.” Mariel shuddered one time. “I’m all right.”
    Karen put an arm around her. “You can fix this,” Karen said. “If you want to.”
    â€œI don’t know…”
    â€œYou can try. Right? Mariel?”
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œOkay, then.” Karen released her. “Ready to face the world?”
    Betsy was pulling something from the refrigerator when they stepped out of the pantry. “Hey, you two!” she yelled. “What were you doing in there? Whatever it is, I want in. I’m -” She stopped and produced a bleary look. “Hey, is Joe here? Where is that man?”
    Mariel’s answer was a sick smile.
    â€”
    Lost in his muddled thoughts, Joe didn’t pay attention as block after block went by and the houses changed from common to mean. He passed empty lots and For Rent signs and a series of abandoned cars.
    The cold wind kicked up as he walked along River Street. The blank silence of the empty homes and storefronts with their boarded-up windows was sad and just a little creepy. There had once been lives lived in those houses and commerce in the shops. Now it was a ghost town blanketed in white. On another night, he might have been nervous in this part of town, but the snow and Christmas Eve had dampened the traffic. Just to be sure, he bent down to tuck his stack of bills into his sock, keeping a couple twenties in a pocket, a habit left over from his days roaming rough neighborhoods.
    Halfway down the next block, he fished out his cell phone and looked at the little screen. Nothing. No missed calls or voice mails and no text messages. No
I’m sorry.
No
Please Come Home.
No
We Miss You.
His gut sank deeper. He punched in the number for the Delaware. After six rings, Melinda answered. He heard music and chatter and wished he wasn’t so far away. He asked for Billy.
    â€œHaven’t seen him in a couple hours,” she said.
    â€œIt’s Joe Kelly, Melinda.”
    â€œOh, hey, Joe. I’m pretty sure he left.”
    â€œHe find a Christmas elf?”
    â€œMaybe. I didn’t see.”
    â€œOkay, well, ifyou -”
    â€œI’ll tell him you called,” she said and clicked off.
    Joe closed the phone and walked on. From the next corner, he was able to see the glittering lights on the tallest of the downtown buildings and decided that that was where he needed to be after all. At least a few of the bars would be open, and not the lonesome, dead-end dives like Jimmy’s, but places where Christmas Eve stragglers would gather, flush with body heat and happy laughter. Good tunes would be blasting from the speakers over the bar. He’d buy a round for the house, get his back slapped with hearty