Mean Streak

“Pink copied it.”

“She knows her stuff.”

“Enough with the flattery bullshit. How did you find me?”

“Your friend Eleanor.”

“Oh.” That took her aback. A sadness crept into her expression. “How is she?”

“Good. Expecting her first child in a few months.”

“So she married Tim?”

“Last name Gaskin?”

She nodded, and when he confirmed that was Eleanor’s married name, she said, “When I last saw her, they were getting serious. Is she happy?”

“Glowing. The baby is a girl.” He told her about his visit to the brownstone and described it to her. “Eleanor called me after spotting you in the national news story about the protest in Olympia.”

She drew a deep breath. “I saw it, too. I never would have participated in the march if I’d thought I’d be caught on camera.”

“You stood out.”

She touched her cropped hair. “I didn’t think anyone would recognize me.”

“Eleanor did. She was certain it was you. I wasn’t. Not until yesterday when I saw you come out and get your mail.”

“After all these years, you’re still looking.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t found him yet. You’re my only link.”

“Lucky me.”

“I’m not so bad.”

She said nothing to that.

He looked around the pleasant room. He didn’t know anything about home interiors, what was quality, what was junk, what was current. His apartment was functional, and that was its only boast. But to his unpracticed eye, this room looked tastefully done. Despite Wes Greer’s description of the things sold in her shop, the room wasn’t cluttered.

Neither was she. She wore a simple black sweater and slender black pants. Jewelry consisted of a wristwatch with a black leather strap and a long single strand of pearls. They were the same color as her hair. On her, the stark contrast worked. The only spot of color, her eyes.

He said, “Your daughter, Sarah, has grown up a lot.”

“She’s in the school orchestra.”

“What instrument?”

“Cello. She’s at rehearsal. Another parent is driving car pool today. She’ll be home by six fifteen.” She looked at her sensible wristwatch. “I want you out of here before then.”

“Does she remember Westboro?”

“Of course.”

“Does she talk about him?”

“All the time.”

“What does she say?”