The Hiding Place

Chapter Thirteen

Janet spent her morning at work and the day before that not thinking about Michael. She attended a campus-wide meeting of office managers. She met with her boss, Dean Higgins, briefly about writing ad copy in order to hire two new work-study students for the fall semester. She answered the usual never-ending stream of e-mail.

And in spare moments-a short bathroom break, a quick visit to the break room for a cup of yogurt-she pushed Michael out of her mind, reminding herself always that she was no longer sixteen and no longer looking to date the coolest guy in school. Sure, Michael still looked good despite the signs of aging and, sure, she still turned flutter-hearted just being in his presence. But Janet knew who she was-a working single mother with a larger mission in life, one that didn’t involve men. She needed to worry about raising her daughter, excelling at her work. Moving forward.

And while she-mostly-managed not to think about any romantic possibilities with Michael, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d told her and she’d told him:

Michael thought he saw his father, Ray Bower, in the woods the day Justin died.

In and of itself, Janet wouldn’t have thought much of the revelation. The Bowers lived close to the park, so maybe Ray was there. Or Michael could have been mistaken, conflating some other memory from his childhood with the day Justin died.

But Janet had told Michael about the man from the porch, and if there was someone else-even this man from the porch-who claimed that the events of that day didn’t happen the way everyone thought, then maybe there was something to it, something to be explored more fully.

And Janet hadn’t even spent much time factoring in the questions asked by the newspaper reporter-

“There you are.”

Janet looked up from her desk. Her mind was drifting too far, letting thoughts that didn’t belong at work grab too strong a hold in her brain.

Madeline stood before her, and as strange as it seemed, Janet wanted to thank her for the diversion, for getting her mind away from problems she couldn’t solve.

“Here I am,” Janet said.

“You seem distracted,” Madeline said. “Ready for lunch?”

“Lunch?” Janet looked at her desk calendar. Lunch with Madeline. Once a week the two of them walked to the student center together and either grazed the salad bar-if they were being good-or joined the students in eating the hamburger and fries special if they felt indulgent. Janet suspected today would be a hamburger and fries day.

She needed it. Hell, she even thought she deserved it.

“Let me grab my purse,” Janet said.

They walked across the mostly quiet midsummer campus. Scattered students went by, those taking summer classes, and occasionally they passed a faculty member in their warm-weather wardrobes-shorts and Birkenstocks, pale legs flashing in the sun like the bellies of beached fish. When she felt she had the time, Janet took classes. She had completed half the hours required for a bachelor’s degree in history and needed to get back to it. Ashleigh would be gone in a few years, off to college herself, and Janet considered her next, longer-term life project. Finish the bachelor’s and then what? Try for a master’s? Why not?

“I can’t stop thinking about that article.” Madeline held her hand over her heart, like she was about to pledge allegiance. “Heartbreaking,” she said. “Just heartbreaking. I had no idea your mother and brother weren’t buried next to each other.” Madeline acted as though she should have been consulted about it because she-and she alone-could have prevented it in the first place. “What are we going to do about this?”

“We?” Janet asked.

“Yes. Have you looked into moving one of them?”

“Justin would have to be moved. The plots on either side of him are taken.”

“Okay. And there’s an empty spot next to your mom?”

“Yes, but it’s not that easy. You need to pay for the reburial. You have to buy a new casket.”

“We do have wet weather here. That can cause damage.”

“Believe me, I’ve looked into it, and we can’t afford it right now. It’s just-it’s a dream, that’s all.”

They ate their burgers at a small table out of the way. The food tasted better than it had any right to. Janet knew she was feeding her emotions, but she didn’t care. Like she said to herself, she deserved the little indulgence. Janet ate quickly, not saying much, which she knew would activate Madeline’s radar.

It did-in the form of a motherly hand on Janet’s arm.

“Honey,” Madeline said, “I saw who was in that parking lot the day before yesterday. I know who you were talking to. Is he back in town for good?” Madeline asked.

“I don’t even think he knows the answer to that question.”

“He was always a good-looking one.” Madeline sighed as though Michael were the great lost love of her life. “I know you always had a thing for him.”

“Every girl in the school did.”

“So.” Madeline grinned like a naughty child. She scooted forward in her seat. “You can tell me. Did you and he ever-you know? When you were young?”

Janet smiled. Despite Madeline’s busybody tendencies, Janet liked having a friendship with an older woman. She liked to imagine that her relationship with her own mom would have developed this way as they both grew older-shared confidences, passed on wisdom. Would she have that with Ashleigh someday? Janet wondered. She knew mother-daughter relationships changed with time and the easing of adolescent tensions, but it was hard to picture herself engaging in girl talk with Ashleigh. Did Ashleigh engage in girl talk with anyone?

“No,” Janet said. “Never. I wanted to. As long as I knew him, ever since we were little, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But I always just followed in his wake, I guess. It would have been awkward, I suppose, with our families knowing each other so well.”

“But not impossible.”

“Not for me,” Janet said. “But he had plenty of girls to choose from. I settled for”-she paused, trying to think of a number that summed things up-“fiftieth best, maybe?”

“Let’s not even talk about Tony. Please? I mean, he gave you a beautiful daughter and all, but that’s just called being a sperm donor.”

“It was a little more fun than that, as I recall,” Janet said, causing them both to laugh.

When they collected themselves, Madeline pressed on. “So what is Michael doing back in town then? He’s barely shown his face around here over the years, and all of a sudden he’s back.”

“He lost his job,” Janet said.

“There’s a lot of that going around.”

“And he’s worried about his mom. I guess her health isn’t great.”

“Rose Bower,” Madeline said. “A very sweet lady.”

“I think he’s also thinking about the twenty-fifth anniversary as well,” Janet said. “Maybe he just wants to be someplace familiar for a change, around people he knows.”

“Maybe,” Madeline said. “But if he’s looking for a port in the storm, be careful.”

Janet rolled her eyes. “How about one night’s shelter?”

“I told you, I’d introduce you to my nephew in Dayton. He’s recently divorced and looking to date again.”

“You never give up, do you?”

Madeline finished her fries. “No. And you shouldn’t either.”

But Janet didn’t hear Madeline’s last comment.

She saw a movement across the room. A man in a blue shirt. She didn’t know why this person caught her eye among all the others. But he did. Janet got a quick glance, a brief look before he slipped back into the crowd and out of the cafeteria. The man looked back once before he left. He looked right at Janet.

She recognized him. The short blond hair, the thin frame.

She blinked her eyes but knew the truth: it was him-the man from the porch.