The Wonders of the Invisible World by David Gates Page A

corner of his screen: 10:38.
    “Unless you get lucky,” she says. “That would be a novelty. Believe me, Billy, if
I
could go in there and sit across from me and handle this whole thing for you, I’d gladly do it.”
    “What are you going to do between then and now?”
    “Wow, I’ve really got you worried. That must be the way I like it. No, that must be the way
you
like it. Actually, there’s a Big Book meeting at the Episcopal church in Colonie. At eleven, so I better hustle. And when that lets out I’m going to stop by the Barnes & Noble on Wolf Road. Is that really the only Starbucks? In the Barnes & Noble?”
    “Hey, at least we’ve got one,” Billy says. “We’re getting there, slowly but surely.”
    “What’s this
we
?”
    “Oh, I don’t know—the civic ‘we.’ We of Greater Albany often talk this way.”
    “Hey, Billy?” she says. “Don’t think I don’t worry about you, too.”
    When he pulls into the parking lot, he sees her just getting out of a no-color Dodge Stratus with a paper cup in her hand. She looks right, then left, then shrugs and tosses it back into the car. She’s wearing sunglasses, a blue blazer and khakipants, and she’s had a recent hundred-dollar haircut, judging by how perfectly the ends curve under. Billy noses into a parking space and watches her stride, long-legged, to the door, a briefcase dangling from a shoulder strap, hairdo bouncing as if in slow motion. She looks like she’s overplaying it, not that he’s any judge of where the ideal midpoint would be.
    When he comes in she’s talking to the greeter girl. If this is the same one as yesterday (which Billy wouldn’t swear to), now she’ll have got the complete picture: the divorced father meeting with the estranged wife to see if there isn’t a chance after all.
Can we save this?
The girl leads her to the same booth he and Deke had yesterday; Cassie sits and immediately picks up her menu.
    “Hey,” Billy says, walking over, smiling. “You look great.”
    She looks up, smiles. “Hey. Gee, you too. Fatherhood doesn’t seem to be grinding
you
down.” She frowns and goes back to the menu.
    Billy sits down and examines her face. In one corner of her mouth, the lipstick looks like a kid has colored outside the line—the result, probably, of freshening up in the rearview mirror. Otherwise she looks perfectly plausible. And young. His beautiful sister, who always liked the same boys he did.
    “Deke’s easy,” he says. “We’re having a good time.”
    “Easy for you, you mean?” She closes her eyes, opens them, nods.
    “Look, I’m just glad I was there to step in.”
    A waitress appears. “Do you need more time?”
    Billy guesses Cassie will hear a double-entendre in that, too.
    “No, we’re ready—
I’
m ready,” she says. “I’ll have the hamburger platter. And coffee.”
    Billy looks at Cassie. She shrugs. “Hmm,” he says. “Can I just get a BLT? Whole wheat, no mayo? Coffee also.” The waitress scrawls and goes. “Red meat?” he says.
    “It’s my new thing,” Cassie says. “I mean—not red meat. But just deciding something and sticking with it. That’s a big part of my problem.”
    “Deciding things?” This doesn’t seem quite dead-center.
    “Well, not that per se. Are you going to start twisting everything?”
    “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to sound—”
    “I don’t mean
twisting,
that sounds paranoid, but, you know,
reacting.
It’s like you’re still trying to find out what’s wrong with me. Well, I guess that sounds paranoid, too. I’m not getting off to a very good start, am I?”
    “Sssh.” He holds up a hand. “I can tell you’re doing better.”
    “Oh, I am. I really am. You can’t shake my faith in
that.
” She gives a smile to indicate this is a joke. Then she frowns. “I’m fucking up. I came to ask you a very big favor—two very big favors, actually—and now I’m acting hostile to you.”
    “No, you’re not.”
    “Well,