Zero Option

38

Stafford took his coffee mug and walked with Gwen through her parlor and out to the side porch facing the pecan grove. There was just the bloom of the moon showing above the peak behind the house, and the tree frogs were out in full strength wheh she sat down beside him on the porch swing. He noticed that she had fixed her hair and put on a touch of perfume. He put the coffee mug down on a table, unsure of his left hand’s trustworthiness not to spill on a moving swing.

“I’m a little surprised Ray Sparks hasn’t called,” he said.

“Oh, he did,” she replied. “Just before dinner.”

“Really.”

“Yes. He wanted to know if you had left. I told him not yet, that I had invited you to stay for dinner with the kids. I asked if there was any message, but he said no, thanked me, and hung up. I hope you won’t be mad at me for not telling you.”

“So he didn’t want to talk to me?”

“Apparently not.”

Stafford didn’t say anything at first, and then he said, “That’s a good sign. I think.”

“You’re sure you’re not angry? It had been such a pleasant afternoon. I didn’t want to spoil it.”

“No, not at all. I’ve been thinking about what you said up there on the trail. You pointed out something that I should have seen. I could walk away from the DCIS tomorrow morning, and nobody would care. In fact, news of my resignation would probably brighten several peoples’ day.”

“How about your pension, things like that?”

“I’ve got a 401-K,” he replied. He turned to look at her. “I haven’t the foggiest idea of what I’d do next, but whatever it might be, it’d be better than what I’m doing right now.”

“It’s something to think about, then, isn’t it?” she said. “In the meantime, you could stay here for a while. My father’s old room upstairs is our official guest room, and there is something you could contribute here, something that I can’t do-These kids have either never had a father or have had a monster masquerading as a father. You said you’ve worked with kids in the Boys Clubs. You could do that here.”

She really is quite beautiful, he thought. He resisted an impulse to reach out and touch her hair. “If I did stay,” he said, “it wouldn’t be just because of this Carson mess.”

She looked away, and he wondered if he had made a mistake. He felt himself blushing a little, and he was glad that it was dark on the porch.

“I think you would be very good for the kids,” she said, still avoiding eye contact. “Beyond that, I think it might do you good to get away from your world for a while. It doesn’t seem to be doing you much good these days.”

“That’s for damn sure,” he replied, following her lead, grateful to talk about something else, but also a bit disappointed.

They talked for another half hour about the school and the kids. When he sensed the evening was running down, he got up to go. She walked him to the front porch. He had told her he would go to the motel for the night and then return in the morning. He added that he would have to call Sparks in the morning. She nodded, then seemed poised to say something else. He waited.

“Everything’s not as it seems up here, Dave,” she said finally. “There’s … history. Family history. I sense that you are interested in me — as a woman. You need to think about your future, and not about me.” She gave him a sad smile, squeezed his hand, and went back into the house. He stood there for a moment, feeling like a disappointed teenager, and then went down the steps to his car..

Well, he thought to himself as he drove down the drive, there’s your answer. Why in the hell should he have assumed she saw anything desirable in him, a one-armed civil servant whose career was on the rocks, along with his marriage, not to mention this little imbroglio with Carson and company? He turned on the car radio and brought up a country station, where a singer was wailing on about love and tears.

Perfect, he thought. Just fucking perfect.