The rain continued harder, wind scattering the gold and orange leaves across the parking lot, the asphalt as slippery as ice.
They hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella. (Had rain even been forecasted? How could she keep track of such mundane things these days?) And as they got out of the booth and walked toward the door of the restaurant, Max handed her his camera and asked her to shield it from the rain in her purse. She tucked it deep inside her giant leather bag. When she looked up again, Will had already pushed open the glass door himself and stepped out into the rain.
“Will,” she called after him. “Hand. There’s cars.” She held out her hand and waited for him to comply, as he usually did. He understood those simple things at the age of three. Hand. Cars. Danger. But instead of listening this time, he laughed and shook his head, and kept on walking.
The lot was eerily empty save for her Buick wagon parked a few steps away, and any danger seemed more imagined now than real. But still. He had to learn to listen. “Will,” she commanded him, stretching out her arm. “Hand.”
He ignored her and stepped off the sidewalk, out into the lot, giggling at the wash of raindrops on his face. Then he kicked through a puddle, splashing. It was too cold for puddles, and the fall wind whipped across the lot, making her shiver.
“Will,” she tried again, but she heard the way her voice sounded. Desperate, exhausted. Defeated. Could he already intuit somehow her plans for their escape, to take him from his father and everything he’d ever known so she could be with Max? Of course he couldn’t. He was a toddler. “Will!” She yelled his name sternly.
He stopped walking, turned and stared at her. He continued to ignore her outstretched hand, but then, he didn’t move any farther into the lot either. He jumped up and down in the same puddle, splashing almost defiantly.
Max took her outstretched hand instead, laced his fingers easily in between hers. Then he leaned in close, whispered in her hair, “Give me your keys.”
“And where are you taking us?” But she didn’t wait for the answer before opening her purse and digging through the giant bag for her car keys. There was so much junk in this bag. Tissues and Cheerios and Will’s favorite dinosaur board book, Max’s camera, and where were those keys?
She was still rifling through her purse, and so she heard it before anything else. The sound of a motor. Then tires squealing, sliding across the leaves.
When she looked up, the car was already too close. Max had let go of her hand to step into the parking lot and push Will away from danger.
Maybe she screamed Will’s name or maybe she didn’t.
Maybe she ran to grab him or maybe she didn’t.
Then suddenly, somehow, she was on the ground. Red and gold leaves swirled near her eyes, through her tangled wet hair. She heard the sound of tires careening through wet leaves as the car didn’t even stop and sped off into the rainy night.