NINE

She hated Texas.

As the 747 swung around on final approach, the lights of San Antonio began to emerge through the thin clouds. Her stomach tightened. She’d spent eighteen years of her life in Texas, spent another fifteen trying to stay out.

She and Wayne had been living in Wilmington, Delaware, when the work had come up, a jewelry wholesaler outside Houston. The middle of February, and she’d been down with the flu, weak and hollow-eyed. She stayed behind when he left.

It was supposed to be a give-up by the owner, the guns for show. Wayne had gone in with Larry Black, a pro from St. Louis they’d worked with before, both of them in Federal Express uniforms. But a clerk with a concealed weapon had gone cowboy in the office, shot Wayne through the shoulder, winged the owner by accident.

Larry Black had gotten Wayne out of there, but two blocks away their driver misjudged a turn, took out a fire hydrant and park bench, and put himself through the windshield. Larry Black got away, but Wayne and the driver went down for armed robbery and conspiracy, ten to fifteen each. She’d been in the courtroom for the sentencing. He’d flashed a smile at her as they led him away in shackles.

Don’t ever work in Texas if you don’t have to, he’d told her once. That’s one state it takes too goddamn long to get out of.

She got her suitcase at baggage claim and walked out of the terminal into dry heat, the night air still and oppressive. She was sweating by the time she reached the rental garage. They gave her a big Chrysler 300, all they had left. She shucked off the leather jacket, settled into the cushioned seat, turned the air conditioner on high.

She’d find a motel in the city tonight, head southeast on 181 tomorrow for the ride down to Kenedy. She knew the route well, made the drive five times a year. Halfway between Poth and Falls City, she’d pass Seven Tears, the town where she’d grown up. She never once had stopped.

*   *   *

The visiting room was decorated for the holidays, tinsel taped to cinder-block walls, an artificial Christmas tree in one corner. She knew the presents below it were just empty boxes in wrapping paper.

Nine thirty in the morning and most of the tables were taken. The visitors were almost all women, the majority black or Mexican, with children in tow. She sat at a table in the far corner, as far from the guards as possible, the same spot she always chose for contact visits. Vending machines hummed. Bright sunlight slanted through the windows onto the checkerboard floor.

The conversations at the tables were quiet, inmates in starched khakis with their hands in view at all times, two guards keeping watch. Cameras on all four walls.

She looked up when the security door buzzed. A guard held it open, and Wayne came out, looked around, saw her, smiled. He limped slightly as he started toward her. His black hair was combed straight back, less of it now, streaked with silver above his ears. She stood.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said.

“Hey, babe.”

She leaned toward him on impulse, stopped. They were allowed a fifteen-second embrace at the beginning and end of every visit, but he wouldn’t do it anymore. It made it too hard to say good-bye, he’d said.

They sat, and he winced as he settled on the bench. She reached across, took his hand. On the inside of his left wrist was a faint blue tattoo, the Chinese character for “perseverance.” It was a mirror of the one on her own wrist.

“You look good,” he said. “How was the trip?”

“Same as always.”

She looked into his dark brown eyes. There were more lines around them this time, more deeply etched.

“You’re limping,” she said.

“This sciatica is kicking my tired old ass.”

“It won’t go away by itself. You need treatment.”

“Only thing left is an operation, and I’m not letting them do that here. I’ll end up in a wheelchair. Or worse.”

“They give you anything for it? Painkillers?”

“In here? Doesn’t happen, girl.”

His khakis were loose, the shirt buttoned high, an inch of white T-shirt visible beneath. She wondered how much weight he’d lost.

“You had me worried,” she said. “No letters for a while.”

“They’re lockdown crazy up in here lately. Three times in the last two months. No phone, and no visits to the commissary for stamps. Not that there’s much to write about. Same old, same old, every day.”

She squeezed his hand.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” he said.

“I decided to make the trip.”

“You going down to Two Rivers?”

“This afternoon.”

“How’s she doing?” he said.

“Good, as far as I can tell. Growing up. She turned nine in February.”

“She still with your cousin?”

She nodded. “That’s her family now.” It hurt to say it.

“Maybe someday you can work that out.”

“The way I live…” she said. “She’s better off where she is.”

He ran his thumb over her knuckles.

“Sorry,” he said. “Guess I shouldn’t bring that up.”

“I’m doing what’s best for her.”

“I know. You still up north?”

“For now.”

“How you like it?”

“I like it fine. But sometimes I think I’m losing my manners.”

“Get used to the cold yet, Texas girl like you?”

“Not a Texas girl anymore.”

“I guess not. That’s good. You’re the smartest thing to ever come out of Seven Tears. And the prettiest.”

“That’s not saying much.”

“You were too big for that town, girl. Hell, you were too big for Texas.”

“I talked to Rathka.”

“And?”

“He’s still working on it. His man in Austin says he needs more up front.”

“He’s a goddamn thief. How much?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“If he’s sticking you up, tell him to go fuck himself. I’ll take my chances with the board.”

“Not good enough. I don’t like the odds.”

“I won’t have you getting robbed by some spit-slick Texas lawyer son of a bitch.”

“Let me worry about that. March isn’t far away.”

“What did you tell Rathka?”

“I told him I’d get it.”

“Now hold on with that, I—”

“I’m not gonna sit and watch you rot in here. You’d do the same if the situations were reversed.”

He sat back.

“What about that house you told me about?” he said. “The one you wanted to buy?”

“We’re still talking. We’ll see what happens.”

“If it comes down to paying some lawyer or buying that house, you know what you need to do, right?”

“Let me take care of it,” she said.

He looked at the nearest guard. He was chewing gum, thumbs hooked in his belt, looking at no one in particular.

Wayne lowered his voice. “How’d things go in Pennsylvania?”

“Not that great.” The guard had his back to them now. “But there’s something else coming up. Hector put me onto it.”

“Too soon.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” she said.

“Anyone I know?”

“Stimmer. Chance.”

“That it?”

“For now.”

“How much exposure?”

“Not much,” she said. “Publicly, not at all. Closed doors. Private event.”

“Never as easy as it sounds.”

“I know.”

“Good men, though.”

“Stimmer put it together. I’m going to go have a look, make a decision.”

“I still think it’s too soon.”

“Sometimes you have to take the opportunities as they come.”

A baby began to cry. He looked over. The mother hushed it in soft Spanish. After a moment, he looked back at Crissa.

“I was thinking,” he said.

“About what?”

“You. And that little girl. You ever hear from her father?”

“We’ve been over this. I expect he’s inside. Or dead. Like I told you, we only ran together for a year. Last time I saw him, he was living in a trailer, a needle in his arm most of the time. You saved me from all that, remember?”

“You never did have much luck picking men.”

“I didn’t do so bad the last time around. What’s your point?”

“You should be looking beyond all this is my point. Buy that house for starters. Find a man, settle down. Figure out a way to raise your daughter.”

“I’ve got a man.”

“This is no life to live,” he said. “And the game is rigged. You see money for a minute—” he gestured around him—“and a place like this for a long time.”

“I’ll get you out of here. I’m not gonna wait seven years, either.”

He turned her hand over, rubbed his thumb along her tattoo. She felt goose bumps rise on her arm, touched her calf to his under the table.

“This is hard to say. But I mean it.” He met her eyes. “What you need to do is get on with your life.”

“Don’t start this again.”

“Worry about yourself. And that little girl.”

“We’ve been partners a long time—”

“And most of that, I was in here.”

“—and that’s an investment. Too much to just give up.”

“Sometimes it’s the smart thing to do. Cut your losses. Walk away. Ain’t nothing in this world getting any younger. Me included.”

“You’re not old.”

“Old enough. Too old for you. And by the time I get out of here, not much use to anyone. Don’t waste your life waiting on me, Red. That would hurt me worse than anything.”

He looked over his shoulder, gestured to the guard. This was always the way he ended it, before their time was up. Not letting the moment be decided by someone else.

She stood with him, fingers still entwined in his. The security door buzzed and opened, the guard waiting beside it.

He let go of her hand.

“Keep it between the ditches, Red. And think about what I said.”

*   *   *

She pulled the Chrysler to the curb, powered down the window, and looked at the house across the street. Sprinklers spun in the yard, rainbow patterns in the water. The lawn was neatly trimmed, deep green despite the heat. Cutout Christmas decorations in the big front window, Santa Claus with sleigh, a snowman in a top hat, candy canes. A Ford Explorer was in the driveway.

She looked at her watch. One o’clock.

As if on signal, the front door of the house opened, and Maddie bounded down the steps. She wore jeans and a pink T-shirt, her strawberry blond hair braided into pigtails. Only six months since Crissa had last seen her, but she seemed a foot taller. Crissa felt something pull inside her.

Her cousin Leah came out next, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, her arms toned, black hair cut short, a new look. They’d been close growing up, only a year’s difference between them, then gone their separate ways. The week that Leah graduated high school with honors, Crissa was already on the run, in the first of a trio of doomed relationships marked by petty crime and casual violence. She’d taken beatings from those men, thought of it as a kind of love, a sign of the intensity with which they lived the lives they’d chosen, something Leah would never understand. Then she’d met Wayne, and he’d shown her a different world, a different way to live. Nothing had ever been the same again.

As she watched, Leah unlocked the Explorer with a keypad, Maddie climbing up into the passenger side. When Leah got behind the wheel, she looked across at Crissa for a moment, nodded. She nodded back. The Explorer backed out of the driveway.

She followed them a half mile to a playground beside a redbrick community center. As soon as the Explorer pulled to the curb, Maddie was out of it, joining the dozen or so kids shouting and laughing on the slides and swings.

Crissa parked behind the Explorer, shut off the engine, watched Maddie climb the ladder of a yellow plastic slide and pause at the top, a look of concentration on her face. She pushed off, slid down into the sand, ran back around to the ladder.

Leah got out, walked to the Chrysler. “Right on time.”

“She’s getting big,” Crissa said.

“She is that.” They watched her go down the slide again. “Got her braces last week. I think she’s finally getting used to them.”

She handed Crissa a CD in a clear plastic case. “Those pictures you wanted.”

“Thanks. I have something for you, too.” She tapped the newspaper on the seat beside her, the manila envelope under it.

Leah looked back at the playground. Maddie was at the whirlaround now, pushing while other kids rode, then hopping on after them.

“She’s got a lot of energy,” Crissa said.

“Wish I had half of it. It’s hard for us to keep up.” She nodded at the CD. “Those photos are all new. There’s some class pictures, too.”

“How’s she doing there?”

“Fine. She loves school, loves to read. Always got her nose in a book.”

“That’s good.”

Maddie leaped from the whirlaround while it was in motion, tumbled into the dirt. Leah started toward the playground, and Crissa felt for the door latch. In the next instant, Maddie was up again and laughing, running to climb back on.

Leah came back to the car. “Like I said, she keeps us busy.”

“What else does she like to do?”

“Earl takes her fishing up to Belton Lake every once in a while. She loves that. She’s the most patient child I’ve ever known. Good with her little sister, too.”

Leah and Earl had given up on having children, had been told they never would. Then, four years after they’d agreed to take Maddie, Leah had gotten pregnant out of the blue, and Jenny had come along.

Crissa folded the newspaper around the envelope, handed it out. “That’s an extra five thousand. You can put it toward the dentist bill.”

Leah tucked the paper under her arm. Crissa sensed her nervousness. Still scared of you after all this time, she thought. Scared of what you’ve done. Of what you might do.

“How’s that new account working out?” Crissa said.

“No problems. Just like before. Money’s in there the first of every month, right on time.”

“You need to take some of that, put it to the mortgage or whatever, go ahead.”

“We wouldn’t do that. That’s Maddie’s money.”

“I’m saying, if you had to, I’d understand.”

“I’ll tell Earl.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s got Jenny with him. They’re over to the Super S, picking up some groceries. I told him you’d called. Figured it would be better this way, just me and Maddie.”

“It bother him when I come down here?”

“I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t say.”

“It bother you?”

Leah didn’t answer. She looked to the playground, raised a hand to shade her eyes. Maddie and three other kids were playing tag, racing back and forth.

“You worried I’m going to show up some day,” Crissa said, “take her away? You can stop worrying.”

“I guess we just wonder what exactly it is you want, coming around the way you do.”

“Just to look in on her from time to time. That’s all.”

From the playground, Maddie yelled, “Mom!”

Crissa looked up.

“One second, honey,” Leah called back. “Stay put, I’ll be right there.” She looked at Crissa. “I have to go.”

Crissa watched her go back to the Explorer, put the newspaper inside. Maddie ran to her and wrapped arms around her legs, knocking her back. Leah hoisted her, turned her upside down, dangled her for a moment, Maddie squealing with laughter. Then she set her down and took her hand, and they walked back toward the swings.

Maddie turned, looked back. She’s going to ask her mother who that lady is, Crissa thought. And Leah’s going to tell her never mind, honey. It’s nobody you know.

Maddie climbed on a swing, scuffed her heels in the sand. Leah got behind her to push.

This is what you came all this way to do, Crissa thought. Spy on your own daughter for ten minutes, like some kidnapper. Get a glimpse of the life you can never have.

She started the engine. Leah looked over at her, Maddie swinging high. Crissa nodded at her, pulled away from the curb. She watched them in the rearview until they were out of sight.

*   *   *

On the drive back, the sky grew dark, lightning flashing on the horizon. Soon the rain came pouring down, the traffic slowing. She put her lights and wipers on. Thunder boomed above her, and then she heard the click of hail hitting the car, watched it bounce off the blacktop ahead of her.

It took her almost three hours to get back to San Antonio. She checked into a Best Western south of the city. Her flight was in the morning, so she’d spend the night here, get an early start tomorrow.

She watched television in her room, thunder sounding outside, but couldn’t concentrate. At six, she sprinted through the rain to the restaurant across the parking lot.

Her steak was undercooked, oozed pink when she cut into it. She ate only half, had a second glass of wine after the waitress took her plate away. She watched rain sluice down the big windows, lightning split the dark sky.

Back in the room, exhaustion settled on her, her limbs like lead. She peeled off her wet clothes, climbed into the shower. As the steam rose around her, she closed her eyes, turned her face to the water.

She thought about Maddie on the swing, laughing and running with the other kids, calling for her mother. Thought about Wayne limping back to his cell, the clang of heavy doors shutting behind him.

After a while, she sat in the tub, legs pulled up, arms around them. She lowered her head, the hot water beating down on her, and began to cry.