Read The Right Time Online

Authors: Susan X Meagher

The Right Time (39 page)

 

 

Townsend rolled her suitcase into the main lobby of the school, where a uniformed guy sat at a reception/monitoring station. He looked like he was keeping an eye on a nuclear power plant, with half a dozen monitors spread out in front of him.

“Is this the Green Mountain Spa?” she asked, trying to seem like a confused tourist.

“No, ma’am,” he said, then squinted to get a better look at her. “Did you come in that big SUV that just pulled away?”

“Uh-huh. We were running out of gas. My…mom went to fill up. I’m supposed to check in.”

He stood up and looked at her for a second. She’d seen this dope around campus a few times. With any luck, she looked bad enough that he wouldn’t remember her. “The Spa’s a good two miles further down the road. But you can sit on that bench there and wait for your mom.”

“No, I’ll go out to the main road. That’ll save her some trouble.”

“She’s going to have plenty of trouble,” he said. “There’s no gas station open this late.”

“Got it,” she said, nodding. “I’ll call and tell her that. Thanks.” She took her phone from her pocket and fake-dialed. “Mom? Come on back. This isn’t the hotel, and there isn’t a gas station that’s open.” She waved as she hit the door, then stuck the phone back into her pocket and kept going.

Once she was on the main road, really just a two-lane county highway, she ditched her suitcase behind a big tree, then covered it up with some of the dead leaves the winter hadn’t destroyed. It wouldn’t be horrible to have someone take it, but it had her computer in it and she couldn’t swing another one this year—not without begging.

It was a little chilly, not bad enough to kill her, but cold enough to be annoying. Her down jacket was going to come in handy. Too bad she hadn’t thought to bring gloves, but it was the end of friggin’ March!

The only thing to do was get moving and keep moving, so she headed for the edge of the campus. There was no fence, and she didn’t think they had the perimeter wired or anything, so she could cut across wherever she wished. Having no place to hang out, she decided to climb the big hill again, just to see how it looked without snow.

As she got near the end of the school plot, a bird, big and dark, flew over her head, the
fwap, fwap, fwap
of wide wings nearly making her wet herself. Yeah, there were probably things in the woods she didn’t want to meet, but she didn’t deserve a nice, safe evening. She deserved bats and owls and snakes and mountain lions. Maybe one would eat her and finish this mess.

 

 

Hennessy had no idea where to go. She didn’t have a credit card, hadn’t brought much cash, and wouldn’t have spent it on a hotel even if she had. The car was such a nice one, big, expensive, pristine and white, that no one would expect a girl to be sleeping in it. She just had to find the right kind of place to park.

It took a while, but she made it back to the interstate and found a rest stop. It was pretty basic, with just a bathroom, vending machines, and a couple of picnic tables.

Hers was the only car, but a few semis had pulled around back. If the police didn’t bother them, they probably wouldn’t bother her. She got into the back seat, took some clothes from her bag to use as a pillow, wrapped a sweatshirt around her feet for a little warmth, and tried to relax. The damned car was as comfortable as her bed at home, and only a little shorter. After unsuccessfully trying to clear her mind, she let herself think of Townsend, the pink-cheeked, smiling girl she’d seen on Saturday in Cambridge.

The one who hadn’t had a drink in over eight months.

The one who radiated optimism and confidence and pluck.

The one who’d lost every one of those attributes two days later.

 

 

Townsend took her time climbing the hill. She had to, given how slick and treacherous the path was. Calling it a path was kind of a joke. It was just a thicket of scraggly trees, all trying to push some pale green leaves onto their spindly branches, most of them having little success.

The ground was covered with fallen branches, dead leaves, and rocks. Big ones. But they’d stopped her from sliding back down a few times, so she wasn’t going to complain.

Why she wanted to climb the hill was anyone’s guess. It would have been a hell of a lot nicer to be inside her dorm, safe, warm and protected, and watched closer than a lab rat.

During the semester, she had to get checked in every night. But she had complete freedom until Sunday, and there was no way she’d volunteer for more time under the microscope. Hennessy could go screw herself.

It took a couple of hours to reach the summit, and she was bruised and a little bloody from sharp branches hitting her in the face. But she’d made it. Desperate to sit down, but not crazy about having wet jeans on such a chilly night, she leaned against the biggest of the pine trees she could find, the hardwoods having stopped further down the hill.

The campus didn’t look very charming tonight. Just a few lights were on, very dim. And without the magical white blanket of snow smoothing over the terrain, it just looked like another bunch of buildings. Institutional.

After hunting around the summit, she finally found enough branches to pile up in a neat crosshatch pattern and use them to keep her butt dry. They were remarkably uncomfortable, but being in a little pain was a good idea. She could sit and think about everything she’d thrown away this week. Trust, love, her future.

 

 

Even though she wanted to be tough, Townsend had to admit what a wimp she was. At six, when the sun broke over the hill, she got up, dusted herself off, and headed back down. Her dramatic vow to live in the woods until Sunday had evaporated. Now she just wanted a shower and some clean clothes.

Going down was much faster than going up, even though it hurt her legs more. She was shaking by the time she reached level ground, but appeared pretty normal when she crossed campus and went to the main entrance to her dorm.

The buzzer sounded, the grating noise annoying the shit out of her every time she heard it. She casually scanned her ID in the reader, announcing, “I’m back early,” to the guard who regarded her with open disdain.

“Bartley?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have permission to be here?”

“Everybody’s got to be somewhere,” she said, slipping by him to head to her room.

 

 

Hennessy had clearly not had access to a shower. Her hair, normally bouncy and shiny as it brushed across her shoulders, was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail. And even though Townsend’s memory was admittedly hazy, she was pretty certain the navy blue slacks and pink golf shirt were retreads from the day before. “Where’d you wind up?” Townsend asked as she got into the car.

“Not far from here.” She turned and gave Townsend a long look. “Did you sleep?”

“Not much.” Shrugging, she said, “I spent the night reminding myself what a fuck-up I am.”

“Not helpful.” She didn’t ask for directions, just took off confidently. They drove toward the small town closest to the school, then pulled into a space a few doors down from a diner. Townsend had never been to it, not much of a fan of diner-style food. But she could definitely see Hennessy liking it—simple, fast, and inexpensive.

They went inside and found an empty booth, an old Formica table with deep red, plastic covered bench seats. Townsend chose the side facing away from the windows. Her head still hurt like a bitch, and the light made her eyes ache and water.

There were about ten people in the place, most of them probably locals. Guys with rust-colored work jackets and faded jeans, baseball caps pulled low over their eyes. A couple of old women sat at a table, showing each other photos, talking excitedly. A quick-moving waitress bustled over, coffee pots in each hand. Townsend pointed at the one without the orange band near the top. Decaf wouldn’t begin to cut through the haze.

Hennessy looked up and gave a polite smile. “I’d like a cup of tea please.”

“Lemon?” the no-nonsense woman asked.

“Yes, please.” As the woman moved away, Hennessy gazed at Townsend, unblinking. “First things first. How are you going to go about finding a new sponsor?”

The woman had a one-track mind. “I don’t know,” she said, already irritated. “Sharon suggested somebody, but I don’t like him.”

“Uh-huh.”

Giving her a perturbed look, Townsend said, “I’m new to this shit, you know. I thought your sponsor was supposed to be reliable!”

Hennessy reached across the table and lightly gripped her hand. “Sponsors are struggling with the same disease. They’re human, too.”

Townsend dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her face roughly. “I know that,” she said, her body as stiff and pain-filled as her sixty-seven year old gram’s. “But I depended on Sharon. She let me down.”

Hennessy didn’t say a word.

Finally, Townsend lifted her head. “I…let you down, too.” Her voice shook roughly. “Goddamn me, I was so sure I could do this.”

“You can and you will. But you’ve got to get comfortable with the fact that it’s not ever a smooth road.”

“But what do I do?”

“You find a new sponsor. Right now. Then you start all over again. You go back to step one and start fresh.”

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