Never Look Back by Ridley Pearson

Author:Ridley Pearson [Pearson, Ridley]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9780795339998
Publisher: RosettaBooks
Published: 2014-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

Sunday, November 23

1:27 A.M.

Detroit, Michigan

She was sitting uncomfortably in a chair when he knocked. She bent to examine herself in the mirror one last time, pulled on a strand of hair, and let him in.

He inspected the motel room, noting that it seemed somehow more a glorified hospital room than the place for a guest. Everything was new and color-coordinated, and though certain expenditures had been made to “liven up” the surroundings, these were mostly in the form of illuminated light switches and remote control consoles and a clock, which if allowed, would talk to you.

These did not interest him.

Feeling awkward, Andy finally turned to greet Mari, but she was pressed up against the wall, her hands knotting themselves hopelessly.

“I’m not so sure this was such a good idea,” she admitted, and he could tell that she was holding back tears.

“You didn’t disguise yourself!” he stated, outraged.

“Easy, Fred! I changed clothes after I got here. Jeeez, you’re jumpy.”

“Cautious. I’m cautious, that’s all. What are you doing holding up the wall over there?”

“What are you standing there with your coat on for?”

He took the coat off and slung it over the desk chair he stood by.

She walked over, passing him, took the coat, and hung it up.

He admired her, and hoped she might sit down on the bed, but at the closet she turned and said, “So.”

“So,” he replied.

“Here we are….”

“Yes.”

“It’s late.” She glanced briefly at the bed and then to the floor.

“Yes.”

“You know, Drew. I still don’t know whether you hate me, or whether I’m forgiven.”

“Either do I.”

“That’s a hell of an answer.”

“That’s the truth. Would you prefer I lie?”

“You’re angry. You’re still angry. What the hell are we doing here?” She crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders with her hands.

“How am I supposed to feel? How are you supposed to feel? Is there a ‘supposed to’ that I don’t know about?”

“I thought…”

“What? What did you think we’d do? I know what I thought we’d do.”

“What?”

“What do you think?”

“I asked you.”

“Jesus Christ!” he said, and started to walk about aimlessly. “I’m having trouble with everything we hid from each other. It’s not healthy.”

“But it’s normal.”

“Doesn’t make it right, or easy to deal with, at least not for me.” He noticed her clothes now, having paid no attention at first. She wore a plain white shirt of a flimsy fabric, which stretched tightly around her bust, giving her more there than she had. Her skirt was some kind of gray wool, hanging just below her knees. Her hair was brushed and full and her teeth shone.

“You said maybe we could continue.”

“Yes I did.”

“Where do we start?”

“Where would you like to start?”

“It’s two o’clock in the morning. My legs are tired. I’d vote for either starting in the morning, over breakfast, or forgetting all the rules and kind of jumping into the middle somewhere.”

“Meaning?”

She lowered her head and her hair fell forward and hung like a curtain behind which she could hide. She snapped her head backwards, and the hair followed, falling back into place fluffed and wild.

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