by Matt Witten
Thinking about that made her depressed. Maybe she really would hit Niagara Falls and Mount Rushmore this week.
She turned onto Mill Street and drove past the tiny library where she and Amy used to sit and read Amelia Bedelia books. She drove past the old bowling alley where she and Danny had their first kiss. It started out as a quick peck on the cheek when he was congratulating her for getting a strike, but by the time it ended, she and Danny were both branded for life.
Then she passed the Presbyterian church, where she sang in the choir every week and tried to believe in God. She did enjoy the music at least. At the center of town, she went past Lake Luzerne Realty, where Danny used to work. Then she pulled into Rozelle’s Gas Station and Repairs.
Clarence Rozelle came out to greet her. He was in his late forties, with a long beard and thoughtful eyes. Years ago, Danny had told her Clarence was a great chess player, winning tournaments down in Albany and even New York City. She wondered why he had never done anything else with his life besides run this auto shop.
Maybe he was like her, a guy who couldn’t leave home.
“Getting ready for your trip?” he said, wiping his hands on a rag he carried with him.
She nodded. “I’m pretty sure I could use some new tires and an oil change.”
Clarence looked down at the tires. “Yeah, these two are looking pretty worn out.” He walked around to the other side of the car. “And these two are just about bald. Must be that misalignment we talked about.”
“Yeah.” The Dodge Dart’s carriage had been slightly out of whack for the past fifty thousand miles, but it would have taken three hundred bucks’ worth of parts, plus labor, to straighten it out.
“Well, let’s get you fixed up.”
She sat in the waiting room reading about Hollywood stars in a two-month-old Us magazine. She always thought the magazine should be called Them instead of Us, because she sure as hell had nothing in common with those people.
After half an hour or so Clarence came back. “You’re all set,” he said.
She reached down into her coat pocket and brought out her paper-clipped collection of twenties. “What do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “No, really.”
“Really nothing. I remember your daughter. She was a sweet kid.”
Susan’s eyes got wet. “Thank you.”
“No worries. You think you’ll see Danny there?”
“I don’t know,” she said. It was true, she had no idea if Danny would be at the execution.
But she was really hoping he would be. Whatever this magical thing called closure was, she was afraid she wouldn’t feel it unless he was with her. They had suffered this terrible loss together, and they needed to get past it together. It had been nineteen years since she’d seen him, but maybe this weekend could bring them together again, at least as friends—
“Well, if you do see Danny, tell him I said hi. God bless you both.”
“Thank you, Clarence.”
Susan got back onto 9N and headed out of town. Fifteen hundred miles to go, she thought.
She passed the Crow Bar, where the “Amy Lentigo Night” sign was half torn off and flapping in the wind. Three miles later, she rode through Corinth. In the middle of town, she came to Molly’s Diner.
Her old memories started to play again. This was where, for Susan, it all began.
CHAPTER FIVE
FRIDAY, APRIL 12, TWENTY YEARS AGO
SUSAN WAS IN the kitchen, about to drive Amy to school, when Molly called from the diner.
“Oh good, I’m so glad I caught you,” Molly said. In her sixties now, she had opened Molly’s Diner thirty years back, when the paper mill was still going strong. Somehow she’d kept the place open through all the economic ups and downs—mostly downs—since then. Susan respected the hell out of her.
“Hi, Molly, I’m just on my way out the door.”
“Any chance you could take dinner tonight? Nancy and Eileen both have colds, and I’m a little desperate.”
Susan did a quick calculation. She loved Friday nights at home with Amy, playing Monopoly or watching a movie. On the other hand, weekend nights were pretty good at the diner and they could use the tips right now, especially since Danny’s three leads from the open house hadn’t panned out.
As for Danny, he liked having dinner ready when he got home, especially at the end of a long week. But he’d said he would be working ’til seven or eight, prepping a property on Scofield Road for an open house tomorrow. When Danny came home that late, all he really wanted was crackers, cheese, and a beer in front of the TV watching basketball. So he should be okay with her working tonight.
She needed to get Amy taken care of, though. So she told Molly she’d make a quick call and get back to her.
Amy tapped her feet impatiently and whined, “Mommy, we’re gonna be late.”
Susan said, “How’d you like to hang out with Grandma after school today?”
Amy immediately brightened, clapping her hands. “We can make bracelets!”
“I’m sure Grandma would love that,” Susan said, and dialed her mom. They hadn’t spoken in three days, ever since she asked her mom to keep her new boyfriend—Frank was his name—away from Amy. Hopefully, Lenora wouldn’t still be pissed off.
Her mom lived less than a mile away, in a trailer on 9N. She picked up on the second ring. “Who is this?” she growled in her morning voice.
“Hi, Mom, I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Lenora was silent for a couple moments, then finally said, “You beat my alarm by five minutes. What’s up? Everything okay?”
Susan sighed inwardly, relieved her mom had decided not to hold a grudge. “I wanted to know if you could take Amy this afternoon.”
“Sure, okay. You want me to pick her up at school?”
“That would be great. Thanks, Mom.”
“And don’t worry, I won’t bring Frank. Even though you’re totally wrong about him.”
“Love you, Mom,” Susan said.
As she hung up, Danny walked in, smelling of the aftershave Susan and Amy had bought him for his birthday. She told him, “Molly called. I’m taking dinner tonight, okay? Mom will pick up Amy.”
He nodded distractedly and set about making his coffee just the way he liked it. He’d been a little down ever since all his leads fell through. Trying to cheer him up, Susan said, “Come by Molly’s tonight. She’ll give you a free dinner, and there’s a really cute waitress named Susan who’ll flirt with you.”
Before Danny could respond, Amy tugged on Susan’s arm. “Mommy, I’m gonna be really, really late.”
Danny turned lively for the first time this morning. “Did the tooth fairy come last night?” he asked.
“Yeah! She gave me two whole dollars!”
“Wow, she must really like you. Have a great day, Amy Shlamy,” Danny said.
“Bye, Daddy Shladdy,” Amy said. Danny smiled. Amy always made him smile no matter what mood he was in.
Susan and Amy got in the car and rode off to school, passing the Homestead Motel. There were always ten or twenty unfortunate people staying there, and one of them was out front this morning, getting what looked like a toolbox out of his rusty old car and eyeing the Dodge Dart as it drove by. He had a flat, tired face and looked like he’d had a hard life. Amy fingered the blue unicorn on her necklace and said, “You know the coolest thing about unicorns?”
“What’s that, honey?”
Amy proceeded to chatter away about unicorns and centaurs, but Susan only half-listened. She was thinking about a conversation she and Danny had in bed last night, about her going back to college.
Susan had gotten her Associate’s at Adirondack Community College when she was twenty-one, shortly after they got married. She’d always meant to go back for her B.A. and maybe study nursing. But she didn’t really like school, was never very good at it, and working at Molly’s was just too comfortable. Then she’d had
the pregnancies and miscarriages, and then Amy was born and Susan devoted her life to her.
But now, as she had told Danny last night, “I’m thinking maybe I should start taking some courses again.”
“Like what kind of courses?”
“Maybe Anatomy or Human Growth and Development. The courses you need for nursing school.”
“I’m all for it, honey,” Danny had said, running his hand down her arm. “Let’s just save up a little money first. Soon as the market turns around we’ll be solid again, and we won’t have to take out a loan.”
Susan was grateful Danny didn’t pressure her to make more money. But at some point, she needed to decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
Amy was still talking. “Mommy?” she said, in an annoyed tone. “Mommy, you’re not listening.”
Susan turned off 9N into the long school driveway. “I’m sorry, honey, what were you saying?”
“I’m never gonna take this necklace off,” Amy said, rubbing her dolphin bead. “Never.”
Susan smiled. “Even when you take a bath?”
“Nope.”
“Even when you go to sleep?”
Amy gave her head a vigorous shake. “Nope. Not even when I die.”
They pulled up in front of the school, a brick building the town had built twenty years ago when it had more money. Amy’s three best friends, Sherry, Kate, and Sandy, were on the sidewalk out front.
“I love you, sweetie. Grandma will pick you up at three thirty.”
“Love you too, Mommy.”
Amy gave her a quick kiss and skipped off with her friends, as Susan drove away.
Most mornings after dropping Amy off, Susan went back home. Danny would leave for work, and she would clean the kitchen and read the Post-Star before heading to Molly’s. It was her quiet time, all to herself.
But today, since she’d be cooped up all day, she decided to go walking on the River Road next to the Hudson. It was the height of mud season, so she stayed on the road itself. The sun was shining and it had to be at least fifty degrees. It might even make it up to sixty this afternoon.
She enjoyed the river views and the country music station on her Walkman—a lot of Tim McGraw and Faith Hill, Susan’s favorite celebrity couple. She waved hi to the drivers of all the cars and trucks that went by. A lot of them she knew personally.
When Susan finished her walk, she drove to Stone’s, where she bought kids’ toothpaste for Amy, and the IGA, where she got Danny’s favorite spaghetti sauce for tomorrow night. Then she headed for Molly’s, seven miles away, and got there in plenty of time for the lunch rush.
Not that it was much of a rush. The first customers to straggle in were four elderly women in wool coats who took a corner booth. They came here every Friday and always tipped poorly. But Susan tried not to judge them. She guessed this might be their big social event of the week, the one thing they had enough money for, barely.
Around noon some road repairmen came in, followed by two tables of people from the town hall, but when she added up all her tips, it only came to twenty dollars.
“Tonight’ll be better,” Molly promised. “And if it isn’t, I’ll throw in some extra.”
“No problem,” Susan said, thinking twenty dollars would cover an afternoon movie for her and Amy tomorrow while Danny did his open house. They could see Mulan for the third time—Amy looooooooooooved that movie.
She checked in with Danny around two thirty. He sounded like he was having an average day; not too inspiring but not too discouraging either.
“I’m on my way to the Scofield Road house, see if I can make it presentable,” he said. “You still working tonight?”
“Yeah. If you’re too tired to come by, you want me to bring you home a hamburger?”
“Sure, thanks. I’ll pick up Amy from your mom around seven thirty, when I’m finished at Scofield.”
“Okay.”
They rang off, and Susan hit the sofa in the back room for a nap. The sofa was saggy and technically nowhere near as comfortable as her bed at home, but somehow she always got her best sleep here. Danny could be a little restless at night. She slept until five and woke up refreshed, ready to work.
Dinner went a lot better than lunch. A full day of spring weather had put people in the mood to go out on the town. The turkey chili special was a big hit tonight, and most of the diners were generous with their tips. Susan worked constantly, and by eight o’clock she had already made forty in tips with more to come.
Then Molly stepped away from the front register and walked up to her as she was picking up an order from the cook. “You got a phone call,” Molly said.
“Can you take a message?”
“I think you better get it. It’s Danny.”
Susan could tell right away from Molly’s tone there was a problem. This wasn’t just about whether Danny wanted cheese on his burger. She hurried to the register and grabbed the phone.
“Hi, what’s up?” she said.
Danny’s voice came back. “Do you know where Amy is?”
“She’s with Mom.”
“I was just at her house. Nobody’s there.”
Susan didn’t get why he was so worried. “They must have gone out somewhere. Maybe they’re coming to Molly’s.”
“I just got home. There’s a message on our machine from this morning, from your mom. Saying she’s sorry, but she just remembered she’s busy tonight, so she can’t take Amy.”
Susan stared at the phone. Amy wasn’t with her mom. She wasn’t with Danny. She wasn’t with her.
But school ended four hours ago!
Where the hell is Amy?
CHAPTER SIX
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 28, PRESENT DAY
AS SUSAN LEFT Corinth behind and turned onto Route 29, she thought about that phone call from Danny, and wondered if their marriage was doomed from that moment.
Probably.
She noticed her thumb was playing with her engagement ring as she drove. She still wore it on her right hand because it was the nicest piece of jewelry she owned—a blue sapphire surrounded by tiny diamond chips.
The last time she saw Danny, they were hugging goodbye outside the mediator’s office in Saratoga Springs. Then he moved to the small town of Tamarack a few hours to the west, near Lake Erie. From what Susan had heard, it was like Luzerne but a little more upscale and tourist-friendly. He was working as a realtor there.
Sometimes Susan wondered what her life would have been like if she’d never met Danny. But she always shoved that thought out of her head, because that would mean Amy never would have existed.
And also, she and Danny had a lot of good years together. In his own quirky way, he was a romantic. When he proposed, he got down on both knees—and then turned a double somersault before offering her the ring. For her twenty-first birthday he gave her a music box that played “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” which she’d told him was her favorite song in first grade. The birthday card read, “Susan, Never lose the beautiful child that’s inside your heart. Love, Danny.” That card was still at the bottom of one of her dresser drawers.
Danny had lost some of his own childlike spirit as the years and disappointments mounted, but hell, so had she. Hopefully he was doing well now.
She had no idea if Danny even knew about the upcoming execution. She should call him and tell him.
Actually, she had called him, at his office, three times in the last two weeks. But he never picked up, probably because he was out showing houses. And she never left him a message, because it just felt too weird after all these years.
Suddenly she thought, Screw it, I should call right now and leave him a message before I lose my nerve. I should do it. She checked her mirror and abruptly pulled over to the shoulder, in front of a broken-down barn.
She reached in her pants pocket and took out a piece of paper where she’d written Danny’s number at Tamarack Realty. Then she brought out her old Radio Shack flip phone and dialed. Maybe she
’d even get lucky and he’d be in on a Sunday, getting ready for an afternoon open house.
The phone rang once, twice, and a third time. Then, just as it had before, Danny’s message came on. He sounded young, upbeat. “Hi, you’ve reached Danny. I’d love to help you find the home you’ve always dreamed of. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back just as soon as I can.”
Susan heard the beep. She was about to say something but stopped herself.
Why hadn’t he picked up? Why did he never pick up?
Is he screening my calls? Does he not want to talk to me?
She didn’t blame Danny for leaving her. But still, he had left her. And in nineteen years he never reached out to her, beyond the Christmas cards they sent each other every year.
On the Tamarack Realty website, it said Danny had a wife now. And two kids, a son and a daughter. When Susan had read that he had a new daughter, her heart broke a little.
Danny had made it clear long ago that he wanted basically nothing to do with Susan anymore. He wanted to forget his old family, because the memories were just too hard for him to deal with. So why was she calling him? Why did she feel she needed to see him again, needed to be with him at the execution?
She snapped her phone shut without leaving a message.
Fuck him.
Yeah, she had loved him, but she shouldn’t make like their marriage was all sweetness and light. He used to have those down days at work when he’d come home and get pissed off if the TV was too loud or the lights in the bedrooms had been left on all day. He’d get on the internet after dinner and wouldn’t talk to her and Amy for hours. Sure, it was for work, but still.
Over the years, Susan had begun remembering more things she didn’t like about him, that she used to make herself ignore. He should have supported her better after Amy was killed. To leave her less than a year later? That wasn’t right.
I’m better off without him, she thought.
She turned her key in the ignition, and after a couple seconds the old Dodge Dart came back to life. She got back onto 29.