“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve warned you.”
“Yeah.” Casey shook her head. “I wish you could’ve.”
They sat on a bench outside the theater, the night air still promising rain.
“Thomas is a head case,” Eric said. “He really is.”
Thomas. The director. “And you’re in his play…why, exactly?”
A smile flitted across his face, and he ducked his head toward the street. “Let’s just say it’s penance, and leave it at that.”
Penance. Casey breathed in the cool night air. “Well, I hope what you did to deserve it was worth every moment. Penance like this would cover a lot.”
“It better.”
They sat quietly, and Casey eased her head back, her face toward the sky. “What happened? With Ellen? The notice at the bus stop said she died suddenly.”
“Yeah. She did.”
Casey brought her head down at the pain in his voice. “You knew her well?”
He shrugged. “We were in the play together. She would…she and her kids came to eat supper at the hall.”
Casey studied his profile. “There was no husband in the picture?”
He looked away. “It was just her and the kids.”
“Were her children there tonight? At dinner?”
“No.” He leaned forward, his hands in prayer position between his knees. “They’ve gone to stay with their grandparents. Ellen’s folks. They don’t live in Clymer.”
Casey nodded, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she had to force herself not to jump at the sight of Death, who sat on the other side of Eric, picking fluffy buttered kernels of popcorn from a paper bag and chewing them with gusto.
“How did she die?” Casey asked.
Death shrugged, looking at Eric with interest.
Eric’s face remained averted. “They say she killed herself.”
Casey sucked in her breath.
Death made a face.
“Was she…did she have an illness?”
Eric gave a sad laugh. “Not unless you call unemployment being sick.”
“Oh. She got laid off from HomeMaker.”
“Right before Christmas. In the first wave.”
“And since then?”
He sat up again, still looking at his hands. “She was doing odd jobs, where she could find them. But there aren’t a lot here. No one else in Clymer is in the position to hire a cleaning lady or an extra hand at a store. The Burger Palace at the edge of town was about it. Not that she could support herself and her kids with that.”
Casey shook her head slowly. A sad story. A painful story.
Death stared at Casey with wide eyes, obviously wanting her to ask Eric more questions. But about what?
Eric’s face was pale, his lower lip sucked in, like he was trying not to cry.
Casey nodded. “You…cared about her.”
“What? Of course I did. I care about all—”
“But she was special.”
Eric closed his eyes. “I thought maybe…even with the kids…maybe partly because of the kids…we might…” He stopped. “She was such a strong person. I never would’ve thought she… But I guess all that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”
“Of course it does.” She looked at Death. “Just because someone dies doesn’t mean she isn’t still important to you.”
Death tossed a popcorn kernel in the air and deftly caught it and ate it.
Eric turned his face toward Casey. “You sound like you’ve had some experience.”
Casey grimaced. “Exactly what Thomas said.”
Eric gave a small laugh. “Please, don’t compare me to him.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you nauseated.”
He smiled, and glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s getting late. Want to go somewhere for something to eat? Or get a drink?”
The two full meals Casey had eaten had more than filled her up. As for the drink…
It had been just before her last birthday. The party with Reuben’s colleagues. They’d closed a huge deal and were celebrating. Reuben’s boss was happy, standing rounds for the whole crew. Casey had stuck pretty much to the champagne. Reuben to his usual Corona, with lime. Not too much. Nothing excessive.
She’d caught her husband’s eye across the room, where he was held captive by one of his team, a loud-talking IT expert, who believed the world would be a better place run entirely by computers. Reuben had tolerated the ideas because the kid knew his stuff. And because Reuben was just that kind of guy.
Reuben had given her that smile. The one that said he was just biding his time before they’d stayed long enough and he could take her home to their bed. She’d worn the red dress, the one he especially liked. She’d raised her glass to her lips, holding his gaze, and had blushed at the thought of what would happen later.
“Thanks,” she said now, to Eric. “But I really don’t…drink. And I’m not hungry.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, then, can I take you to your hotel? Or wherever you’re staying?”
She looked at Death. “I don’t actually have a place to stay.”
Eric sat up, blocking Death from her view. “Really? You want to stay at my place? I’ve got an extra room, with a futon. But if you don’t like futons you can have my bed and I can sleep on the futon.”
Casey looked at Eric’s face, alive again with helpfulness. “Thanks, Eric, but I think… Is there a hotel or something close by? Something not too expensive?”
His face fell, but he covered it up quickly. “Sure. The Sleep Inn is right out by the highway. Nothing great, but they have beds.”
“That’s all I need. And a shower.”
He grinned. “I’m pretty sure they have bathrooms, too.” He swung himself up, off the bench. “I walked today, so we’ll have to go by my place for my car.”
Casey stood, thinking about Eric’s car. “You know, I can just walk to the hotel. It’s out by The Burger Palace, right?”
A shadow passed across his face, probably at the thought of Ellen’s last job. “It’s at least a mile. I can run and get my car, if you want. Bring it here.”
“No. No, that’s okay.” She looked Death in the face. “I really prefer walking. It’s more interesting.”
Eric looked confused at that, but held up his hands. “Whatever you want. I can walk with you.”
“But then you’d have to walk back. You go on home. Really. I’m used to it. I can take care of myself.”
He looked uncertain. “Yeah. I’ve been curious about that.”
She’d been wondering how soon he’d ask, how long he could contain his questions about where she’d come from, and why. “Practice tomorrow evening at seven?”
He gave a little smile, apparently seeing through her change of subjects. “And dinner at five, if you want to come by.”
“To help.”
“To help.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
“Good.” He looked down the dark street. “You’re sure I can’t—”
“I’m sure. Goodnight, Eric.”
“Well…goodnight.”
Casey hefted her bag onto her back and watched Eric walk away. He stopped once, about half a block away, to look back. She raised a hand, and he resumed his walk.
Casey took a deep breath and walked in the opposite direction, stopping in front of Death, who still sat on the bench. “I suppose you want to come along? There will probably be two beds.”
Death looked after Eric, who was just disappearing around a corner. “But it won’t be nearly as fascinating as if you’d gone home with him.”
Casey shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“No. Not impossible. Just picky. Have fun at your cheap hotel.”
And Casey found herself standing in front of an empty park bench, the breeze blowing an empty popcorn bag to the ground.