The Goal

171

with trees just getting the new leaves of spring. They are brilliant green in the golden setting sun.

I see the house halfway down the street. It's the two-story brick colonial painted white. It has shutters. The shutters are made of aluminum and have no hinges; they are non-functional but traditional. This is where Julie grew up.

I park the Mazda by the curb in front of the house. I look up the driveway, and sure enough, there is Julie's Accord in front of the garage.

Before I have reached the front door, it opens. Ada Barnett is standing behind the screen. I see her hand reach down and click the screen door lock as I approach.

"Hello," I say.

"I told you she doesn't want to talk to you," says Ada.

"Will you just ask her please?" I ask. "She is my wife."

"If you want to talk to Julie, you can do it through her law- yer," says Ada.

She starts to close the door.

I say, "Ada, I am not leaving until I talk to your daughter."

"If you don't leave, I will call the police to have you removed from our property," says Ada Barnett.

"Then I will wait in my car," I say. "You don't own the street."

The door closes. I walk across the lawn and over the side- walk, and get in the Mazda. I sit there and stare at the house. Every so often, I notice the curtains move behind the window glass of the Barnett house. After about forty five minutes, the sun has set and I'm seriously wondering how long I can sit here when the front door opens again.

Julie walks out. She's wearing jeans and sneakers and a sweater. The jeans and sneakers make her look young. She re- minds me of a teenager meeting a boyfriend her parents disap- prove of. She comes across the lawn and I get out of the car. When she's about ten feet away she stops, as if she's worried about getting too close, where I might grab her, pull her into the car, and drive like the wind to my tent in the desert or something. We look each other over. I slide my hands into my pockets.

For openers, I say, "So... how have you been?"

"If you want to know the truth," she says, "I've been rotten. How have you been?"

"Worried about you."