“You probably could get Amanpour’s CNN gig now.”
“Don’t want it.”
“So what do you want?”
“A ride from you.”
“Okay, but where?”
“We’ll talk about it on the way.”
They stared at each other. Her eyes were glistening and Shaw’s gaze drifted to the sidewalk. He said hesitantly, “Katie, I can’t-”
She put a hand up to his mouth. “I know you can’t, Shaw. And if you’d said anything else other than that, I would’ve already walked away. That’s not what I want.”
“So what do you want?”
She glanced off into the darkness of the Wisbach night before looking back at him. When she spoke her voice seemed to buckle with the weight of her words.
“I’m an alcoholic. I’m unemployed. I don’t have many friends. In fact, I don’t think I have any friends. And I’m terrified, Shaw. I’m scared to death that this is it for me. And if you tell me to go to hell, I’ll tell you that we’ve both been there and it’s just as bad as everyone thinks it is.”
As the wind rustled the leaves on the trees and all around them the good folks of Wisbach settled in for a pleasant night’s sleep, Shaw and Katie stared at each other in silence. It was as though neither had the courage, the breath, or the heart to speak.
Finally, Shaw murmured, “Let’s go.”
The two of them turned and walked down the quiet street.
Exactly to where, it was certain, neither of them knew.