“We missed you,” Lee told her.
“Motherhood agrees with you,” said Nellie, the newest waitress. Valerie colored. She knew what she looked like, with her hair bunched into a flowered band, her haphazard dressing. Her tights had ladders, her shoes scuffs. “Bring the kid in so we can spoil her rotten,” said Nellie.
“Soon,” Valerie said. She looked toward the kitchen.
“What's she like?” asked Nellie.
“Wonderful,” Valerie said. She pulled on an apron, knotting it tightly. She sniffed the air. “Creole shrimp,” she said.
It was Lee who found Valerie crying outside in the back of the restaurant, tearfully smoking a cigarette. When she saw Lee she continued crying, but her face was defiant. “I'm getting my period,” she said. “You know how I get.” Lee nodded and then very gently placed both arms about Valerie. She rocked her for a moment. “Are you and Andy getting married?” Valerie said, swiping tears from her face. “Do you want to have children?” she cried. Lee's hands contracted and for one second time seemed to separate like a seam.
“Every woman wants babies. It's perfectly natural to want your own,” Valerie cried. “You probably can have them. You look like the kind who can have dozens. You're so
lucky
.”
“Let's go inside,” said Lee.
One night Valerie showed up at Lee's with Karen in tow. Andy had night court and Lee was reading Tom Jones in the kitchen, her feet propped on the table. She had melted a whole chocolate bar in a copper saucepan, thinning it with milk, and was now sipping it luxuriously. When the bell rang she ignored it, polishing off the chocolate. She didn't do anything until she heard knocking, too, and then she was only going to peer out the curtain and see whom she could blame for disturbing her. She pulled the curtain and saw Valerie, with Karen in tow. Valerie's eyes were swollen, but when Lee answered the door, she kept a bright smile on her face. “We came to visit,” she said, looking down at Lee's book. “You weren't busy, were you?” she said. “We won't stay long. This one has to get to bed, and I'm tired myself.” She gestured at Karen. Her hair was newly shorn. She was wearing one of Valerie's red clip-on earrings.
Lee looked at Karen doubtfully, who was staring at Lee's long braid with such intensity, it made Lee step back.
“Uh, you like long hair?” Lee said to Karen.
“It's the blond, not the length.” Valerie said wearily, following Lee into the living room. “Yesterday on the bus, she stood so close to a blond girl that the girl tripped getting past her. The girl was mad, too, but at
me
.”
Karen settled nervously onto the pink velvet rocker Lee had found in a thrift shop. She petted the chair the way she would a cat, carefully grooming the armrests.
Valerie yawned. “You don't have any aspirin, do you? It's been such a bad day. The sink at the restaurant started flooding the kitchen, and I had to hassle with the plumber, and even now the sink still doesn't seem fixed to me.”
“Bathroom,” Lee said. As soon as Valerie was out of the room, Lee felt uncomfortable. She glanced uneasily at Karen, who was sitting on the velvet chair, watching her angrily. “
What
?” Lee said, then picked up Tom Jones again. The words braided together, but she kept the book up and pretended to read.
Almost immediately Karen began running to every window in Lee's house, slapping her hands against it. “Hey,” Lee said, following her, but as soon as Lee was within a foot of Karen, she took off for another window.
“Valerie,” Lee called, exasperated. “Valerie,” She looked at Karen, who was standing in the center of the room, poised for flight. “You wait here,” Lee told her. She found Valerie sleeping on the bed, an opened bottle of Bayer aspirin in her hand. Aspirin flaked across the coverlet. “Hey,” Lee said, shaking her gently. Valerie reached for Lee's hand and wrapped it about her shoulder, cozying into it. Lee pulled her hand away. “Valerie,” she said. “Valerie,” Valerie rolled away.
Lee walked into the living room to find Karen spread on the rug, eyes drooping with sleep. “Come on,” she said. “Don't lie on the rug. You can sleep on the couch.” She patted the couch. She bent to take Karen's arm, and instantly Karen whipped it from her.
Lee lifted her hands. “Fine with me, Sleep on the rug.” She went back to her chair and picked up her book.
Lee flipped pages. She forced a look at Karen, and suddenly, in the shadows, Karen's hair looked the same yellow as her own. If she turned so Lee could see her, her eyes might be the same deep, bottomless black. Unnerved, she bolted from her chair. She was sweating. Something was surfacing in her, something she didn't want. She was suddenly furious with Valerie. “Come on,” she said. Karen looked out the window, searching. “In the bedroom,” Lee said, pulling Karen up and releasing her hold so abruptly that Karen stumbled.
“Come on, let's wake her up,” Lee said, rustling covers about Valerie, Karen tugged at the sheet and Valerie's eyes stuttered open. “What time is it?” she said, bolting up, blinking at the two of them. “Jesus, I'm sorry. I was just so tired.” She swung her legs over the bed. “What do you say we go home?” she said to Karen.
On the way out she chattered at Lee. “Look, I'm sorry. I really did want to visit with you.”
“It's okay,” Lee said. “Just call the next time.”
“Sure,” Valerie said. “Sure, I'll call.”
The apartment was empty, but Lee still felt a child in it. Disturbed, she wandered the rooms, checking the closets, and then, in the middle of the bedroom, she felt so suddenly overwhelmed with loneliness that she had to sit down. She leaned across for the phone and called Andy. “Come over,” she said.
He laughed. “I'm beat. I'm falling asleep as we speak.”
“I'll come there, then,” she said. “I'll take a cab.”
“You all right?” he said. “You sound funny.”
“I'll be there in five minutes,” she said.
He was half-asleep by the time she got there. She didn't care. She led him back into bed and tucked him in, and then shucked off her clothes and slid in beside him. She was wide awake. In her own apartment she would have been prowling the rooms, memory stalking her like a dangerous intruder. Beside her, Andy sighed in sleep and then his breath bottomed out. Lee spooned her body about his. She lifted one of his arms and looped it about her. She wasn't such a bad person that someone didn't love her. She did good things for people. She had someone. She had a life. She was not orbiting endlessly. She wasn't that Lee anymore.
Two days later Valerie showed up with Karen again. “I know,” Valerie said. “I didn't call.”
Lee dug hands into her jeans pockets. “I was thinking about going out,” she said.
“We won't stay long,” Valerie promised. “Roy's out of town and I just wanted some adult companionship.” She tugged at the tag end of her braid.
“What makes you think I'm an adult?” Lee said.
Valerie bustled Karen inside. Karen, in red sweater, red pants, and red sneakers, headed for the one red chair in Lee's apartment, the one chair where Lee had been. She sat on Lee's book. “Hey,” Lee said, pulling the book from under Karen, who glared at her. Valerie shucked off her jacket and slumped on the sofa. “So,” she said. “Here we are.”
“Why do I feel like eating cookies all the time?” Valerie said. “You got any?” She looked at Karen. “I eat more than she does. She doesn't even seem to like sugar, just salts away those potato chips.” She rubbed at the sleeve of her sweater. There was a small dark stain on the elbow. The yarn unraveled at the hem.
Karen pulled silently at the tufts in the chair.
Valerie wandered into the kitchen. Lee heard her opening the refrigerator, pulling something out, probably the black forest cupcakes she had bought that morning. “I'm just going to call the restaurant and check on that bloody sink,” Valerie called.
“Fine,” Lee said. She was uncomfortable sitting there, with Karen staring at her, so she got up and went into the kitchen, Valerie was hunched over the phone, frowning.
“What?” Lee said.
“I'll be right there,” Valerie said, and then hung up. She leaned along the counter, annoyed. “Listen, I have to get to the restaurant. The kitchen's flooded again, and the plumber told Nellie he can't get there for another hour. Everyone's panicking.” She stroked back her hair. “Do you believe this?” she said. “Why can't this get taken care of without me?”
“I'll go,” Lee said, but Valerie raised her hand. “Look, can you just watch Karen? I won't be long,” she said.
“We could all go,” Lee said, but Valerie was pulling on her jacket, shaking her head. “Please. This one splashing in water, no, thank you. I'll be right back. I'm just going to mop what I can and threaten the plumber with lawsuits.”
Valerie whisked into the living room. When Karen saw Valerie's jacket, she stiffened. “I'll be right back,” Valerie said. “God, I hate this,” she told Lee, but Lee noticed that when she left her step seemed progressively lighter.
Lee couldn't control Karen, As soon as Valerie had left, Karen started racing around Lee's apartment, arms whirling propellers. At first Lee tried to ignore her. Karen would wear herself out running; exhaustion would push her into an early, bottomless sleep. Lee sat on the couch with a magazine in her lap, and she counted ten times Karen rampaged past her, ten times she didn't turn one single page of the magazine. The eleventh time, screaming, Karen rounded the comer, knocking over a vase full of daisies, shattering it across the floor. She leaped over the puddle and dying flowers and kept running, arms still beating stiffly, careening toward the hall, and this time something in Lee snapped. “Stop!” Lee shouted, furious. This time, when Karen came back around, Lee grabbed her. “Okay,” she said roughly. She dragged Karen over to the closet and tugged her jacket from the hanger. She pried Karen's arms into her jacket, zipping it up tight. Karen, terrified, made her body rigid.
“Out,” she said, jerking Karen outside, into the backyard. The night was spilled with stars. Lee pushed Karen. “You want to run, run then,” she said angrily. Karen stood there baffled. And then Lee herself started running in the dark, around in circles, passing Karen. She felt as if she were cutting a swath through the thick, sticky air, as if she were cooling herself with motion. “Move,” she said, giving Karen a shove, grabbing her by the hand and making her run, too. She led her out of the backyard and into the street, slowing herself down so Karen could keep up, running until her own anger had burned out of her, until she had calmed, and then she slowed her pace and tended to Karen.
Karen's face was flushed. Her eyes flashed. But she was worn out, panting, “Okay,” Lee gasped. Her side stitched up. Her white sneakers were muddied, but she wasn't angry anymore. “Now we can go back.”
They walked. Karen kept looking at all the houses they passed, her head switching roughly left to right. They passed someone's red Yamaha motorcycle parked on the front lawn, and Karen came to a dead stop. “Go,” Lee prodded, and then she saw where Karen was looking. Lee didn't say anything. She just let her stand there in the deepening night, not moving, just staring at the red motorcycle. Finally Karen walked toward it, tentatively touching the seat, laying her head against it. Something inside of Lee dissolved. She crouched down. Karen was suddenly crying, burrowed against Lee, pushing open her legs so she was pinned there. “Oh,” Lee said, wrapping her arms about Karen, “I know.” She let her cry until her shirt felt damp against her skin, and then she scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way home in silence.
Inside the house, they stayed silent. Lee called the restaurant, but the line rang and rang and didn't catch at all. Karen stretched out on the rug and Lee draped a yellow coverlet over her and watched her thoughtfully.
Valerie arrived in less than an hour. Her jeans were rolled up and stained, and she had a smear of dirt across one cheek. “I'm sorry I'm so late,” Valerie said. “The goddamned plumber took his sweet time getting there.” She swabbed at her face with her hands. She looked exhausted and happy.
They stepped inside. “Oh, no,” Valerie said, seeing Karen asleep on the floor. “Did she give you a terrible time?”
“Not terrible,” said Lee. She thought about the Yamaha. She remembered seeing a high school kid zooming around on it, laughing, his body loose and boneless on the bike.
“I'll carry her to the car for you,” Lee said abruptly. She bent down. Karen's heated breath rose and fell against Lee's hand. Lee lifted her up, and in midmotion one of Karen's hands fluttered about Lee's shoulder, holding on.
Valerie began bringing Karen over more and more. Sometimes she called first, sometimes she simply showed up, and she always stayed along with Karen. And then once she called weeping, begging Lee to sit. “Please. It's an emergency,” Valerie said.
“What emergency?”
“My emergency. My life. I have to have a few hours alone with Roy. I can't find anyone else to sit.”
“Valerie, I can't,” Lee said. She heard the fissures in Valerie's voice, and then she remembered Karen, crying in the moonlight, and something caught at her.
“Just tonight,” Valerie promised.
“Just tonight,” Lee repeated doubtfully.
“One night. Three hours,” Valerie said.
That one time, that evening Valerie spent with her husband, she lit dozens of white candles all over the apartment. Roy brought her a dozen tiger lilies and a small glittering bottle of a French perfume she had never heard of. There was Chinese food heating in the kitchen, recipes she had never tried out before on anyone. In the living room Gene Pitney wailed about a town without pity, and the door to Karen's bedroom was closed so tightly, someone might think no one had ever lived there at all.