In Our Time by Paul Joseph Lederer

Author:Paul Joseph Lederer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gale, Cengage Learning
Published: 2016-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Shanna stood staring numbly at the note for long minutes, absorbing the impact of it. From the bungalow across the way the ukulele player began a ditty. A screen door banged. Two young girls with corn-tassel yellow hair ran past laughing. The fountain hissed, gurgled, and sputtered.

There was nowhere to go.

Emilio Dan Cruz opened his cottage door, his eyes registering surprise, then concern and finally dismay. He put his arm around Shanna’s shoulders and led her into the sunlit orange and black living room of his house.

“Sit down, Shanna,” the photographer said.

“Emilio . . .”

“Sit down,” he said more sharply, “unbutton your shoes and rest for one minute. Drink a glass of lemonade. Then we can talk.”

Meekly, she complied. Emilio bustled around in the kitchen. Shanna heard the tinkling of ice, the splash of lemonade into the glasses. She closed her eyes again against the sunlight, which was bright against the tessellated sea. Far out, once she saw the head of a sea lion as it surfaced for air.

“Here,” Emilio said gently, handing Shanna her lemonade in a frosted glass. She took it shakily, smelled it, and realized it was only that—lemonade. She placed it aside on a low Chinese-red table.

Emilio lowered himself onto one of his burnt-orange overstuffed chairs facing her. He crossed his legs in a way Shanna thought was decidedly unmanly, and waited for her to begin.

“I need a job.” She blurted out. Emilio was watching her patiently, but she could tell, appraisingly. She saw his head make the tiniest of negative shakes. Leaning forward, hands clasped between her knees, she went on earnestly. “You always told me I could be a commercial model.”

“Shanna . . . those were different days,” he said uncomfortably.

“Not so very long ago at all,” she persisted, but she saw in his eyes the same reflections she saw this morning in her looking glass. “What have I done?” She began to sob uncontrollably.

Emilio didn’t move to comfort her; he did not speak.

Finally, lifting her face from her hands, Shanna sniffed and said, “I have no place to go, Emilio. And I’m . . .”

“Obviously.”

“May I please! Can you . . . ?”

“Of course,” the photographer said quickly. “At least until the baby is born.” He hesitated, trying to make a decision. Then with a constrained smile, he rose and said, “I have a neighbor who usually has an extra bottle of gin. I’ll go over and see what I can do. But I am doing it to help get you well, not to start you off on the roller coaster again. You must quit, Shanna!You must. Some people cannot drink. You are one of them.”

“I will! I promise you. I know I have to quit,” she said, but Emilio could see the eagerness in her eyes, the need she had for that one next drink. Shaking his head, he got to his feet, walking along the sandy boardwalk to his next-door neighbor’s cottage. And, looking back, he could see Shanna at his window, watching him through parted curtains.

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