21

Claire Bassett

“Claire, what in the world are you doing?” My mother stood there staring at me.

“I’m packing Bella’s lunch. Why?” It should have been obvious.

“You’ve been standing there with that knife in your hand for five minutes not doing anything.”

Had I done that? Distraction had been my constant companion while I attempted to perform everyday tasks. My hands and feet moved at my command, but my mind stayed focused on the city.

I set down the knife. “Oh, thinking about today. Lots to do at work.”

“Well here, I’ll finish that. You go get dressed.”

I allowed her to take over, too weary to assert my independence this morning.

After a quick shower and sliding into the simplest, comfort clothing suitable for work, I managed to get Bella on the school bus and drove to the university under a gray October sky—a perfect match for me on this day. Please let Jonathan be out today. I couldn’t handle any level of conversation with him.

But I didn’t get my wish. After lunch, he strolled past the receptionist desk.

I glanced up to greet him without stopping my work. “Good morning, Jonathan.”

“Don’t you mean good afternoon? It’s almost one.”

My laugh came out as hollow as a drum. “Guess the day’s going fast.”

“Missed you Friday. Were you sick?”

“I didn’t feel well.” That was the truth.

“Better today?”

“A little,” I lied. Maybe the stilted conversation would deter him?

No, he began to sit.

I stopped him with a shake of my head. “I have Friday’s work to catch up on. Can we talk later?”

His disappointment showed, but he acted with kindness, as always. “I’ll leave you to your work. Looking forward to Saturday.”

Saturday. I had forgotten I’d agreed to an evening with him. Well, that was almost a week away and a lot could happen.

When I arrived home, I had to again explain that I would be gone tomorrow. I would take Drew to Molly’s. Mom and Dad needed a break on my days off.

“Mom, I’ll be going to Molly’s tomorrow for a visit. We have breakfast planned, so I’m leaving early. I’m taking Drew. It’s good for him to socialize with other kids.”

She squinted. “You’ve been going there often.”

“I know. You and Dad need some space, and I enjoy seeing my old friends.”

She nodded her agreement but tilted her head in question. During dinner, she pried for information. “Is there anything new from the police? I haven’t asked you for a while.”

“I haven’t heard from them and haven’t tried to contact them. Guess I should do that while I’m in town.”

“Anything new in your neighborhood? How are the renters?”

“They pay their rent. I don’t know them, so I can’t say how they are.”

With a big sigh, she dropped the inquisition. No doubt it would resurface at some point. She had a keen instinct, and I was easy to read. I might tell them, depending on how tomorrow went.

~*~

The next morning, traffic along I-279 delayed my arrival at St. John’s. It was six forty by the time I found a garage and made my way to the church. A chill in the air that would only get worse as winter approached, reminded me of the urgency to find Andrew and bring him home.

I tried the main door. Finding it locked, I set out walking to locate another doorway. A plain metal door off to the side posted a sign for the free breakfast hours.

I turned the knob and entered the large room, not sure what to expect. No one greeted me, and I saw no place to check in. The diners probably went up to the counter for their food. Although about twenty people were eating and four serving, the room felt empty because of its grand size.

Looking around, I shuddered at the defeated faces. The joyless meal served only enough sustenance to make it through another desolate day. Our mealtimes at home had been spent sharing anecdotes about our days, laughing at Bella’s silliness. Our meals had been filled with bright eyes.

But my husband had chosen this place over his kitchen table—an old man his companion instead of his wife. I knew he suffered a deep grief, but why wasn’t I enough?

After scanning the room for any sign of him, I moved from one table to the next, starting with the one seating the only other woman in the room. Her hair streaked with gray had been cut right at the base of her ears—a bowl cut. I suspected she chopped it herself. Grime embedded her mismatched clothing, and body odor hung heavily in the air. My heart broke for her, but I had to stay focused.

I sat across the white plastic table and spoke softly. “Good morning. I’m looking for someone and wondered if you might have seen him.” I pulled out the picture of Andrew and laid it on the table in front of her. “I believe he comes here to eat breakfast.”

She glanced at the picture, shook her head without ever looking up at me. When she opened her mouth to the fork filled with eggs, wide gaps were visible where teeth should be.

I moved to another table. A few people had seen Andrew, but no one knew him or where to find him. Each one said the same thing—that he came with an older man, and they ate breakfast here most every morning.

A man who had been serving behind the counter came out and sat down across from me.

“My name’s Don. Can I help you with something? I see you taking a picture around to folks.”

“Yes, I’m looking for this man. Do you know him?”

He took my flyer and held it up. “Sure do. He’s in here most every morning. Usually by now. I suspect he’ll be in soon. You related to him?”

“He’s my husband. He’s sick and needs help.”

“Well, he should be along soon. Didn’t appear to be sick.”

“I mean that he...” I couldn’t finish. “Is it OK if I wait here?”

“Sure. Can I bring you something to eat?” His face displayed kindness.

“No, thank you. I’ll wait over there.” I motioned to a table off to the side and out of the way. I could see the door, but when Andrew walked in, he wouldn’t see me.

People came and went. They ate their breakfast then took their lost dignity back to the streets.

Don returned to bring me coffee.

“Thought you might need this. Here’s a little cream and sugar.”

I thanked him as he left the tray for me.

By nine thirty, volunteers began cleaning the kitchen and locking the door. Andrew never arrived.

“Sorry, ma’am. Sure surprised he didn’t show. You can try back any weekday.”

“I can’t come tomorrow, but I’ll try Thursday.” I felt a pulse in my throat and heard the crack in my voice. “If he comes, please don’t tell him I’m looking for him.”

“Sure thing.” He gave an understanding nod and patted my shoulder.

I stood outside looking at the vastness before me. I didn’t know where to go next. With heavy feet, I lumbered back to the parked car and headed for home.