Friday Evening

Sue finished her cigarette and flicked the tiny bit left into the yard. Then she sat on the back steps and lit up a second. James wouldn't let her smoke inside, a good call, she knew—not with two boys to raise, one who'd left home for college and, the way things were going, would probably stay away forever. Teddy liked bright lights, music, people, and lively food, none of which you could find, in any desirable quantity, in Tippleton. The younger one—who knew? All he liked was shooting ball and reading books. Did you need to move away for those?She could see the tiny playground just beyond the car port. Could see the firehouse beyond that, the street alongside, the handful of houses lining it having to deal with all that clatter sometimes. To her left just past her yard was a field. Who owned that lot? It had been weeds and sumac ever since she'd been a girl and first looked upon it.Steps coming up the street—out around front of the house. Their sound came up the sloping alleyway beside the house, walls of stone on each side holding yards in place. Then James walking up the front steps; she could hear him come in the front door, hang up his jacket on the rack, and walk down the hallway toward where she sat. He was standing there on the other side of the screen looking at her, she knew. She could almost hear his breathing. “I'm home,” he said. “I know,” she said, not turning, taking another drag off her cigarette and then tossing it into the yard. “The boy back yet?” he asked, and Sue said no, not till 11:00.“You had some left. You didn't have to throw it away just because I was standing here.”“I was done,” she said.He didn't ask how her evening had been. He didn't say where he was. He didn't bother heating anything up on the stove. Sue heard him turn around and walk away; a minute later she heard the TV. Friday evening television was always so sad. TV was the last thing a Friday night should be. But she got up and stepped inside and shut the back door. Poured herself a glass of vodka from a bottle in the back of the freezer. Took a drink and held it on her tongue. Walked through the dining room into the hallway and stepped into the living room. A man and woman were talking on the TV, he in a white coat. Sue couldn't tell if they were married, if they loved one another, if the man was a doctor telling her she had some incurable condition or a scientist who wanted to change her into a ravening beast. But she walked over to the couch and had a seat, found a coaster for her vodka, and asked her husband how his day had been.“The same,” he said. “Yours?”“I saw Zach off to his game,” Sue said. “Bus pulled up at 3:30. So he got on and didn't bother waving—”“Does he need to?” James asked.“No. Then I cleaned a little. Dusted. Ran the vacuum. Did a load of laundry. Whites and towels.”James looked at her. He'd turned forty-eight that winter, and now, here in early spring, she noticed his lips pointed down at the corners. That was new. “Anything else?”“I walked out to the school at dusk, to check on you.”“Oh?”“Down the street. Up that long walkway. I could see the light on in your office.”“And?”“I called to you.”“I'm on the third floor. I keep the windows closed by the evening. It's a pretty good seal. I can't hear someone calling up to me. That must be forty or fifty feet.”“Your light was the only one on. Everyone else had gone home.”“It's Friday. I'm the only one who stays late.”“The janitor was there. I walked up to the main door and put my hands against the glass and could see him down at the end of the hallway, mopping. I knocked. He looked up, finally, and came down to the door and said, ‘school's closed,’ and I told him who I was, and said I needed to get upstairs to talk to you, was it okay? He let me in, and I walked up those stairs to the second floor, and to the third, and I walked down the hall to your classroom. There was your desk. Papers were on it. There was your pen, and a mug of half-drunk coffee. Your gradebook was on the side. But you weren't there. So I sat there. I sat and watched the clock go from 6:05 to 7:05. The sun was about to set and I went over to the window to watch it. Just a real pretty sunset. Just me there in your classroom. I read a few of those essays. You make nice comments on them for the students. Encouraging. Like you have faith in them.”Sue stopped talking for a moment. She drank some vodka.“What is that?”“What do you think?”“I thought it was water. But now you're slurring your words a little, so I guess not.”“You want a beer?”“No.”“Where were you?”“Seeing a friend.”“Which friend?”“Who do you know that I know who lives near the school? Someone close, so all I have to do is walk down the stairs and out the door and down the hill.”“Okay,” she said. “How was he?”“The way he always is when I show up. Glad to see me.”“He never got married.”“Some don't need to.”Sue pondered all the ways that meant something.“All right, then. What am I, to you?”“My wife.”“Do you love me?”“Sure.”“Can you say it?”“I love you.”“That almost sounds like you mean it.”“Everything changed when you left that time,” James said. “I thought you understood. Then you left. Things changed.”“I came back.”“You did.”“You were glad to see me.”“I was.”“Because I make it easy for you.”“Not always.”“I guess not.”“No.”The TV show was over by then. The news was just about to come on, then they heard Zach step inside, put down his things, and walk down the hall. He stood in the doorway. A tall boy, rangy, handsome in his varsity jacket.“How'd you do, son?” James asked.“Scored eight points. Had five rebounds.”“You start?”“First one off the bench.”“Sixth man is good,” James said. He held his palm out, and Zach gave him five.“You need a shower?” Sue asked.“No. Got one at their gym. It's a nice school they have. Nice court. Nice students. Good showers.”“You have practice in the morning?”“Yeah.”“I'll drive you.”“I'm catching a ride with Clover and his mom. You don't need to.”“All right.”“I'm going to bed.”He gave Sue a hug and went up to bed. They could hear his big footsteps above them.“Nice boy,” James said.“He's like you,” Sue said.“Meaning?”“Polite. Always polite. Deferential.”“Thank you, Dear.”“You going to watch the weather?”“Hadn't planned to.”“I need a smoke.”“Okay. I'll let you know what the girl says.”Sue took her cigarettes out to the porch. The sky was clear. A plane was passing overhead so high up you couldn't hear the sound. Its contrail was long and blue, its signal light blinking steadily. She watched it move for a long time, till clouds moved in covering everything. An hour later, when she slipped into bed, she lay at the farthest edge on her side. James was dead asleep, his breathing slow. She saw a note on her nightstand once her eyes adjusted, and she held it down low to the floor, so the night light would show it. “Rain tomorrow,” it said. “Rain all day long, and then some.”