McDowell by William H. Coles

Author:William H. Coles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literary Fiction
Publisher: William H. Coles
Published: 2019-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 39

New York

Sophie

Sophie fell asleep after reading in bed with the light on when the front door chimes to her apartment rang. She slipped on her slippers, pulled down her nightgown, and went to the door.

The chimes rang for the third time. She looked through the peephole but saw nothing. Probably a hand over the opening. She stepped back.

“Open up, Sophie. I know you’re there.”

Sophie hesitated indecisively. Did she know this person? She did not want to be rude, but she was afraid. New York was not safe.

“Open!” the voice said.

“Who is it?” Sophie asked.

“It’s me. June, for Christ’s sake.”

It was June. The voice had changed but it was June from two years ago. Sophie had forgiven June and it had helped to forget her. Still, hearing June again brought strong anxiety.

“What do you want?” Sophie asked.

“Just open the goddamn door.”

“No!”

“I’ll camp out here until you do. I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Open up. After all I’ve done for you.”

You’ve done nothing. How could I have loved you? Sophie thought.

June pounded the door with the heel of her shoe.

“Stop,” Sophie said.

A male neighbor opened a door down the hall. “Knock it off.”

“Fuck you,” June said.

“I’ll call the police,” the neighbor yelled back.

A woman neighbor shouted: “Make her stop, Sophie!”

“Is that what you want?” June said through the door. Sophie’s heart pounded faster.

“Call the police,” the woman neighbor yelled.

Sophie’s fear made her indecisive. She dreaded a scene but most of all she dreaded arguing with June. She had to act. She undid the latch and the security chain. June opened the door before Sophie could pull on the handle and entered dragging two luggage bags behind her.

“Unacceptable,” the female neighbor said and slammed her door. June parked her bags near the bedroom door before moving to the two-seat sofa where she sprawled out, her back slanted on the cushions so her head was thrown back, her legs stretched out in front of her.

“God, you’re stubborn,” June said.

“What happened?”

“He threw me out.”

“Princeton Navarro?”

“The jerk,” June said.

“Are you still married?”

“He never married me. I was his consort to the Europe he tried completely unsuccessfully to conquer. He ran with a pack of queers. I spent months alone. We’ve had sex twice always in threesomes with another man.”

Why come to me? “You can’t stay here.”

“I need a place,” June said. “I’ve got no money.” June had never paid the back-rent she owed. “I called my old boss but they don’t have any positions. Maybe Taylor and Rankings will take me for copy-editing. I’ll go tomorrow. But I’ve got to rest and press a pant suit. And get cleaned up. God, the flight was a disaster.”

“Not here,” Sophie said. I’ll never again share a bed with you. Or my life.

“I’ll sleep here on the couch.” June went to the bathroom. Sophie didn’t move. June used the toilet, flushed; she started the water for a bath.

Sophie opened the bathroom door. “Stop,” she said.

“For Christ’s sake, Sophie. Grow up.”

“I’ve got to leave early tomorrow.

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