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girlie magazine.
Correct.
Why?
Well& see& there s this one church lady that s a royal pain in the butt. She treats
them all like bastards at the wedding and they re way tired of it
Pitty-Pat McCall.
That would be her. Well, word got out some relative of Miss Pitty-Pat s is in the
magazine.
Posing, you mean?
Roger that, he said, and Meehan laughed out loud.
And they re all in there looking at it?
That would be my guess.
Are you telling me the truth? she asked with a suspicion that was certainly
justified.
You think I could make up something this wacky?
Actually, no, she said, laughing again. It just doesn t sound like Mrs. Bee.
Yeah, well, we all have our limits.
So what are they going to do? Are they going to show Pitty-Pat the magazine?
Or at least tell her they ve seen it?
Nah, he said. He picked a pine needle off the picnic table, twirled it between his
thumb and forefinger for a second, then tossed it aside. Mrs. Bee s got too much class
for that. They took a vote. They re not going to say anything one way or the other.
But the reign of terror is over, right?
Damn straight. So, he said, glancing toward where the boyfriend stood waiting.
What s new?
Are you doing all right? she asked instead of answering.
Are you? he countered.
I will be, she said.
Me, too, he assured her when he was certain that neither one of them believed
a word of it. In fact, he thought maybe they were both trying too hard.
How have you been sleeping? she asked next, watching him closely. He could
practically see her morphing from Mrs. Bee s concerned neighbor into the on-duty nurse.
About like usual, he said vaguely.
Meaning?
He didn t answer. He looked into her eyes. She let him.
And let him.
Damn, Meehan, don t do that.
He didn t look away couldn t have if he d wanted to. He could sense a kind of
sadness in her, a wistfulness, a need he couldn t identify, but one he knew she would
never admit. It wasn t sexual and yet it was. It left him unsettled and
Katherine! the boyfriend suddenly called.
I ve got to run, she said, turning to go. Tell Mrs. Bee to hang on to that
magazine. I m coming over to see it.
I d wait until the crowd clears, he called after her. There are some bawdy old
ladies in there. You wouldn t believe the things I ve heard!
She kept going, dismissing his remark with a laugh.
So what s wrong, Meehan? he thought, watching her go.
Maybe he d been mistaken, he suddenly decided. Maybe she was just tired or
something. She wouldn t take up with the boyfriend again if she didn t want to. That was
the bottom line here.
Doyle could see him staring in their direction, wondering just the way he
himself had wondered earlier when he spotted the silver car in Meehan s drive.
That s that, then, he said out loud when she got into the bagel guy s car and
they drove away.
He continued to sit at the picnic table for what seemed a long time. He felt rested
now, up for the return trip.
To nowhere.
He didn t want to go back upstairs to his apartment. And he couldn t hang with
the church ladies when they were passing that magazine around.
He suddenly smiled to himself. What a day. Mrs. Bee should have charged
admission.
The wind was picking up. The pines began to sway and sigh. He could smell the
rain coming, and if he started now, he might make it to the house before the storm hit.
When he reached the porch, he headed for the back stairs. He could hear the
ladies in the parlor. They were still having a good time. He could almost feel sorry for old
Pitty-Pat. He wondered if she d ever know how it was she came to lose her throne. He d
had occasion to see the woman in action the day the church ladies had dragged him into
the parlor for cake and punch. He supposed that her regime had been on a downward
slide even then, because she clearly hadn t wanted the likes of him there. Mrs. Bee must
have overridden the woman s authority. The kingdom had been restless even then.
His mind suddenly went to Meehan. He didn t understand the bagel guy s
return but then he didn t have to. And he didn t have to worry about her anymore.
She d seemed happy enough except for when he d looked into her eyes, and that might
have been his imagination. The love-life situation with the bagel guy must be going her
way, or she wouldn t have gone off with him.
He managed to get upstairs without any major pain events. He ate a peanut butter
sandwich and drank some cold tea he had in a glass jar in the refrigerator. Then he
watched television. The news. The weather.
And he was very careful not to go looking out the window to see if Meehan had
come back home.
He realized at some point that the rainstorm he d come inside to escape had never
materialized. Sometime after nineteen-hundred, he heard the phone in the downstairs hall
ringing and then Mrs. Bee calling him from the foyer.
Calvin, that was a Specialist Will Baron, she said when he hobbled to the head
of the stairs. He just wanted you to know that he s your COC person I think that s
right. COC. He left a number for you to call him if you need anything. I ll leave it right
here by the phone.
Thanks, Mrs. Bee.
He hobbled back into his apartment and closed the door, trying to remember if he
knew the guy. He did, he decided. A guy from Arizona, maybe Native American. He had
relatives around here somewhere a bunch of the guys from the unit had gone home with
him to eat once. He was a& medic.
And Meehan s heavy hand was all over this little gesture. COC. Chain of
Concern. The Army s unofficial answer to soldiers in distress. Well, he wasn t in as
much distress now as he had been, he was happy to say. He was just&
Too damn nosy for his own good.
And maybe this concern thing he had with Meehan was a two-way street. They
were both so busy worrying about each other s emotional welfare, it was a wonder they
didn t knock each other down.
He was tired suddenly, sleepy, but he didn t go to bed. He sat in the chair in front
of the television instead. He dropped off almost immediately, and he woke up on the
floor.
What& ?
Lie still, someone said.
Meehan?
Meehan& what& is it? he said, trying to understand, trying to sit up.
Wait! she said. Let me see if you ve hurt yourself.
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