The Things We Do for Love

Mrs. Mauks fleshy face folded into a sad look. "I wish I could help you. Im so sorry. " She slowly turned and went inside. The busted screen door banged shut behind her.

If one more person told Lauren they were sorry, she was going to scream.

Not that it would do any good.

She trudged up the stairs, walked into her apartment, and slammed the door shut.

"Think, Lauren," she said, searching for her old self, the girl who could climb any mountain. "Think. "

Someone knocked.

No doubt Mrs. Mauk had forgotten to tell her that she needed to vacate the premises by tomorrow.

She went to the door, yanked it open. "I cant--"

There, standing in the gloomy darkness, was Angie.

"Oh" was all Lauren managed to say.

"Hello, Lauren. " Angie smiled, and there was a gentleness in it that caused Lauren a physical pain. "Maybe youd like to invite me in. "

Lauren imagined it: Angie Malone inside, walking on the smelly shag carpeting, sitting--no, not daring to sit--on the lopsided sofa, looking around the room. Making judgments, feeling sorry for Lauren. "No. Not really. " She crossed her arms, blocked the doorway with her body.

"Lauren," Angie said sternly. It was the mother voice. Lauren was helpless to resist. She stepped aside.

Angie eased past her and went inside.

Lauren stumbled along beside her. It was impossible not to see the place through Angies eyes. Tawdry stucco walls stained from years of chain smoking; cloudy windows that revealed no view except the brick building next door. She couldnt possibly offer Angie a seat. "You . . . uh . . . want a Coke?" she offered nervously, moving from foot to foot. When she realized what she was doing--practically dancing the macarena, for heavens sake--she forced herself to stand still.

To Laurens utter amazement, Angie sat down on the broken sofa. Not one of those Im-worried-aboutruining-my-clothes perches either. She sat. "I dont need a Coke, but thanks. "

"About my job . . . "

"Yes?"

"I should have called. "

"Yes, you should have. Why didnt you?"

Lauren twisted her hands together. "Its been a bad week for me. "

"Sit down, Lauren. "

She didnt dare get too close to Angie. She was afraid one touch would make her cry. So she grabbed a chair from the dinette set and dragged it into the living room, then sat down.

"I thought we were friends," Angie said.

"We are. "

"Youre in some kind of trouble, arent you?"

"Yes. "

"What can I do to help?"

That was all it took. Lauren burst into tears. "N-nothing. Its too late. "

Angie left the sofa and went to Lauren, taking her in her arms and pulling her up from the chair. Laurens sobs grew louder. Angie stroked her back and hair, said, "Itll be okay," about a dozen times.