Shannon, but that doesn't mean she doesn't think about the way things used to be.
She was there at the window, wondering if she should have left a note reminding Shannon to pick up a roast chicken for dinner, when she saw something moving in the shadows over by the dumpster, where the day-old doughnuts were discarded in hard, sweet piles. Janey Bass put her nose to the glass; she could have sworn she saw a baby crouched on the grass, reaching greedily for the bits of food her companion offered her.
In the time it took for Janey to unlock the front door, they were gone.
All through the morning rush Janey tried to figure if she had conjured up that baby or if she was just telling herself she'd imagined it, since she knew who they'd send over if she called the police. She didn't phone the station until eleven, and it was past noon when Julian Cash drove into the parking lot. He got out and slammed his door shut, but then he just stood there, leaning up against his car. He had a cup of coffee he'd picked up at the Dunkin' Donuts over by the Interstate, since he always avoids the Hole-in-One. His throat felt all closed up and tight, in spite of the hot coffee. By the time he and Loretta are through today, they will have covered so much ground Loretta's paws will be bloody. But for now she's curled up on the frayed blue army blanket in the backseat of the patrol car, the baby's pillow beside her.
Janey Bass has been waiting for him, but now she sees he's never coming into the shop, not if she waits for a hundred years. She pushes the front door open and comes outside in her white dress. Even in the harsh noon light, her skin is the color of apricots. Her neck and forehead are covered with a thin film of sweat.
"I see you're frequenting my competitor," Janey says when she sees Julian's coffee cup. She walks over but avoids looking at him.
Instead, she peers into the back of the car.
"Hi, baby," she says to the dog through the window.
Janey's hands are actually shaking. She's been waiting a long time for Julian Cash to come and beg her for something, and now it seems that it just might happen. She doesn't have to stare, she knows what he looks like. She saw him outside the Value Mart one Saturday and another time at the Verity Day parade. Good-looking men can age badly. Janey has noticed it's happening to Kenny, but Julian hardly seems any different from when she knew him. Except for the scar. He didn't have that yet.
"I know you'd rather I was somebody else," Julian says, uneasy. "But they had to send me.
I've got the dog."
"I never wanted you to be somebody else," Janey says before she can stop herself. "That was you who wanted that."
"They had to send me," Julian says stubbornly.
"I've got the dog."
"So I see," Janey says.
A fly buzzes around Janey's hair and she waves it away with her hand.
She doesn't intend to make this easy.
"Aren't you going to tell me I haven't changed a bit?" she asks.
Julian looks her over carefully, the way he used to. She stares right back at him, defiantly. There's still a line of freckles across the ridge of her nose.
"You haven't changed a bit," Julian says.
"Oh, yes I have," Janey says, triumphant. "I've changed plenty."
"Okay," Julian says. "So I'm wrong again."
"Dunkin' Donuts," Janey says, disgusted.
"If we're finished with how wrong I am, maybe you can tell me about the baby," Julian says.
"And just for next time, when you see something suspicious at five in the morning? Don't wait till eleven to report it."
"Fuck you," Janey says. "I don't have to tell you anything at all."
Julian considers this and gulps down the rest of his coffee, which has turned quite cold.
"Well, Janey," he says finally, "would you like me to go down on my knees and beg you for information?"
"Yeah," Janey says. She can't help but grin.
"That would do for starters."
Julian puts his coffee cup on the roof of his car, then sinks to his knees, right there in the parking lot. Janey would throw back
She was there at the window, wondering if she should have left a note reminding Shannon to pick up a roast chicken for dinner, when she saw something moving in the shadows over by the dumpster, where the day-old doughnuts were discarded in hard, sweet piles. Janey Bass put her nose to the glass; she could have sworn she saw a baby crouched on the grass, reaching greedily for the bits of food her companion offered her.
In the time it took for Janey to unlock the front door, they were gone.
All through the morning rush Janey tried to figure if she had conjured up that baby or if she was just telling herself she'd imagined it, since she knew who they'd send over if she called the police. She didn't phone the station until eleven, and it was past noon when Julian Cash drove into the parking lot. He got out and slammed his door shut, but then he just stood there, leaning up against his car. He had a cup of coffee he'd picked up at the Dunkin' Donuts over by the Interstate, since he always avoids the Hole-in-One. His throat felt all closed up and tight, in spite of the hot coffee. By the time he and Loretta are through today, they will have covered so much ground Loretta's paws will be bloody. But for now she's curled up on the frayed blue army blanket in the backseat of the patrol car, the baby's pillow beside her.
Janey Bass has been waiting for him, but now she sees he's never coming into the shop, not if she waits for a hundred years. She pushes the front door open and comes outside in her white dress. Even in the harsh noon light, her skin is the color of apricots. Her neck and forehead are covered with a thin film of sweat.
"I see you're frequenting my competitor," Janey says when she sees Julian's coffee cup. She walks over but avoids looking at him.
Instead, she peers into the back of the car.
"Hi, baby," she says to the dog through the window.
Janey's hands are actually shaking. She's been waiting a long time for Julian Cash to come and beg her for something, and now it seems that it just might happen. She doesn't have to stare, she knows what he looks like. She saw him outside the Value Mart one Saturday and another time at the Verity Day parade. Good-looking men can age badly. Janey has noticed it's happening to Kenny, but Julian hardly seems any different from when she knew him. Except for the scar. He didn't have that yet.
"I know you'd rather I was somebody else," Julian says, uneasy. "But they had to send me.
I've got the dog."
"I never wanted you to be somebody else," Janey says before she can stop herself. "That was you who wanted that."
"They had to send me," Julian says stubbornly.
"I've got the dog."
"So I see," Janey says.
A fly buzzes around Janey's hair and she waves it away with her hand.
She doesn't intend to make this easy.
"Aren't you going to tell me I haven't changed a bit?" she asks.
Julian looks her over carefully, the way he used to. She stares right back at him, defiantly. There's still a line of freckles across the ridge of her nose.
"You haven't changed a bit," Julian says.
"Oh, yes I have," Janey says, triumphant. "I've changed plenty."
"Okay," Julian says. "So I'm wrong again."
"Dunkin' Donuts," Janey says, disgusted.
"If we're finished with how wrong I am, maybe you can tell me about the baby," Julian says.
"And just for next time, when you see something suspicious at five in the morning? Don't wait till eleven to report it."
"Fuck you," Janey says. "I don't have to tell you anything at all."
Julian considers this and gulps down the rest of his coffee, which has turned quite cold.
"Well, Janey," he says finally, "would you like me to go down on my knees and beg you for information?"
"Yeah," Janey says. She can't help but grin.
"That would do for starters."
Julian puts his coffee cup on the roof of his car, then sinks to his knees, right there in the parking lot. Janey would throw back
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