Their whole life was in his eyes, all the good, the bad, the in-between times. For a while there, it had seemed that love had moved on, left them behind. Theyd lost their way because theyd thought their love wasnt enough. Now they knew better. Sometimes your heart got broken, but you just held on. That was all there was.
"Lets go home," she said, almost managing to smile.
"Yeah," he said. "Home. "
LAUREN STEPPED OFF THE BUS AND INTO HER OLD world. She tightened her hold on Johnny, who was sleeping peacefully in the front pack; she rubbed his tiny back. She didnt want him to wake up in this part of town.
"You dont belong here, John-John. You remember that. "
Night was falling now, and in the darkening shadows the apartment buildings looked less shabby and more sinister.
She realized suddenly that she was nervous, almost afraid. This wasnt her neighborhood anymore.
She paused, looked back at the bus stop with a longing. If only she could turn around, walk to the corner, and take the bus out to Miracle Mile Road.
But there was no going back. Shed known that when shed left the hospital. Lauren had betrayed Angie and Conlans trust; shed done exactly what shed vowed not to. Whatever love theyd shown her would be gone now. She knew a thing or two about abandonment.
Lauren didnt belong across town anymore, in that cottage perched above the sea or in the restaurant that smelled of thyme and garlic and simmering tomatoes. Her choices in life had led her here again, inexorably, to where she belonged.
At last she came to her old apartment building. Looking up at it, she felt a shudder of loss.
Shed worked so hard to get out of here. But what else could she afford? She had a newborn son who couldnt be put in child care for months. The five-thousanddollar check in her wallet wasnt nearly enough. She wouldnt stay long, anyway, not in this town that would always make her think of Angie. Only until she felt better. Then shed go in search of a new place.
She set down her small suitcase and straightened, arching her aching back. Everything hurt. The Advil shed taken earlier had begun to wear off and her abdomen ached. There was a sharp, pinching pain between her legs. It made her walk like a drunken sailor. With a sigh, she grabbed her suitcase again and trudged up the weed-infested path, past the black trash bags filled with garbage and the soggy cardboard boxes.
The door creaked open easily. Still broken.
It took her eyes a second to adjust to the gloom. Shed forgotten how dark it was in here, how it smelled of stale cigarettes and despair. She went to apartment 1-A and knocked.
There was a shuffling of feet, a muffled, "Just a sec," then the door opened.
Mrs. Mauk stood there, wearing a floral housedress and fuzzy pink slippers. Her gray hair was hidden by a red bandana that she wore in an old-fashioned style. "Lauren," she said, frowning.
"Did . . . my mom ever call for me?" She heard the pathetic neediness in her voice and it shamed her.
"No. You didnt
really think she would, did you?"
"No. " Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"I thought you got out. "
Lauren tried not to react to the word--out--but it wasnt easy. "Maybe there is no out for people like us, Mrs. Mauk. "
The heavy lines on Mrs. Mauks face seemed to deepen at that. "Whos that?"
"My son. " She smiled, but it felt sad. "Johnny. "
Mrs. Mauk reached out and touched his head. Then she sighed and leaned against the doorframe.
Lauren recognized the sound. It was defeat. Her mother had sighed like that all the time. "I guess Im here to see if you have an apartment for rent. I have some money. "
"Were full up. "
"Oh. " Lauren refused to give in to despair. She had Johnny to think about now. Her tears would have to be swallowed from now on. She started to turn away.
"Maybe you better come in. Its going to rain. You and Johnny can sleep in the spare bedroom for a night. "