No River Too Wide

“Just let me grab my wallet,” Jan said.

Ten minutes later Taylor pulled into a space beside the curb of a hilly downtown filled—at least from what Jan could see—with restaurants and small shops with colorful, quirky merchandise displayed in their windows.

Taylor must have seen the look on her face, because she laughed. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”

Jan’s gaze wandered across the street, and her eyebrows shot up. “Well, if I can’t find anything to wear, I can get a tattoo.”

“Just wander a little.” Taylor pointed. “Go up that way and you’ll run into a few stores with clothes you might like. And if you don’t, we’ll hit the mall later this week.”

For Jan this meant she had to find new things to wear today, because Taylor was already doing too much for her and didn’t need to hold her hand.

“I’ll meet you back here about four-fifteen,” Taylor said. “If you get tired, there are plenty of places to have coffee, and there’s a park just up that way with benches.” She hesitated. “I hate to ask this, but if you need cash—”

“No, no, I’m really fine. I have enough money to see me through until I can find work. It’s a long story. But I intend to pay rent, too, until I find a place.”

“Don’t you dare. Pay rent or find a place. I need you, and I’m not kidding. Maddie’s so much happier now that I’m not dragging her all over the place.”

Jan knew she had to get out of the car, but her arms and legs felt as inflexible as steel girders. She forced herself to open the door, swing her legs to the curb and stand.

“See you back here,” she said, forcing a smile that Taylor returned.

When Jan closed the door, Taylor pulled out into traffic.

And Jan was alone.

She would have been alone in New Hampshire, of course. More alone than this. Here she had Harmony just a phone call away, although she certainly couldn’t call or visit her daughter without advance preparation. Still, just knowing she was nearby helped, and Taylor had told her if anything came up, all she had to do was call her cell phone.

Getting a new phone was on her list of things to do, a phone registered to the stranger Jan Seaton, but she would have to check into what questions might be asked and how she could answer them. The very basic disposable that Moving On had provided had limited minutes remaining, and she needed to save them in case she had to contact her benefactors.

The sidewalks seemed to undulate like ocean waves. It was unlikely there was any place in the Asheville area where she wouldn’t be walking either up or downhill, and for a while her legs were going to feel it. The terrain, like everything else here, would seem strange for some time to come.

She assessed her surroundings. To her right was a shop that sold chocolates. Across the street, beside the tattoo studio, was a café that looked to be closed, either already done for the day or not yet open for the evening. She trudged in the direction Taylor had suggested, to what looked like as major a street as she would find here. Some of the buildings were painted bright colors, and while she didn’t stop to investigate, the shops seemed filled with things she didn’t need. Jewelry, crafts, photographs and exotic statues.

By the time she got to the corner, she could feel unease turning into panic. The feeling was familiar, even if nothing else was. She had felt just this way on the evenings Rex was late coming home, not because she’d worried about his safety, but because trying to keep dinner warm had been nearly impossible. After an hour had passed, she had then been faced with trying to make something new, something quick that would still be fresh when he arrived. Nothing had made him angrier than walking through the door to find his dinner was dried out or just being prepared.

She told herself the kind of panic she had felt back then was finished. She told herself there was no reason to transfer those feelings to a simple shopping excursion. Unfortunately nobody knew better than she that telling herself something helped very little. Because for too many years at the beginning of her marriage she had told herself if she just learned to be a better wife, she would have a happy life.

She needed to sit down. Taylor had said something about a park. She saw a green space to her right and started in that direction.

The little triangular wedge was picturesque, with rocks that mimicked the surrounding mountains and a waterfall running over them. Cantilevered steps, or possibly seats, led to a flat area near the center. People were playing chess at one end, and not far from her a disheveled old man on one of the benches strummed a banjo. In between bursts of discordant music he fed a pointy-eared boxer bites of a sub sandwich.

Had she been snatched by aliens and deposited on Mars, she couldn’t have felt more like a stranger in a strange land.

She headed for a bench without an occupant and gratefully sat before her knees gave way. She closed her eyes. She knew fear. She understood fear. What she didn’t understand was why, now that the person she feared most was hundreds of miles away, she was still trembling.

“Got room here?”

The voice startled her, and her eyes flew open. A young man with dark hair covered by a colorful baseball cap didn’t wait for her reply. He sat on the other end of the bench and stuck his legs out in front of him.

“This is my favorite bench because of the sun,” he said.

She hadn’t chosen the bench for any reason except proximity, but now Jan noticed that she was sitting in a puddle of sunshine.

She wanted to move away. Her stomach was rebelling, and talking to a stranger seemed impossible. She had enough problems thinking of things to say to Taylor and Maddie. So many years had passed when simple conversation had been denied her that sometimes in Topeka, in the hours when she was home alone, she had pretended to be two people.

Nice to meet you, Janine. Tell me about yourself.

Well, thanks for asking. There’s not much to tell except that I hate my life and I can’t figure out how to have a better one and live to tell the story.

“Do you come here often?” the young man asked.

She ventured another glance. He was still sitting exactly where he’d flopped down, his face turned toward the sun and his eyes hidden by sunglasses. He had a strong profile with a nose like a hawk’s beak. Even seated he seemed tall and muscular.

“No,” she said.

“Been to the drum circle?”

“No.”

“You ought to give it a try. Crowd-watching’s a big part of the fun. Lots of different kinds of people come. Tourists... Are you just visiting?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s a good place to live if you’re looking for one.”

“Why?”

He opened his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. “Why is it a good place to live?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Not too many places where so many different kinds of people get along. Nobody stands out much here. You can be whoever you want to be, and nobody thinks you’re strange. At least most people don’t think so.”

“How do you figure out who you want to be?” she asked before she thought better of it.

He looked surprised. “Isn’t that the easy part?”

“No.”

“I guess you figure out who you admire, and you try to be like that.”

She admired people with courage, people who’d had dreams they’d pursued despite obstacles. People who had been able to protect their children.

She blinked back tears. “And if you fail?”

“Aren’t you too young to write off life that way?”

She wondered.

He stretched and stood, long arms reaching out as if to embrace the world. “I say go for whatever it is you haven’t done yet. You’ve got time right up until you draw your last breath.” He gave a quick, final wave, almost a salute, and strolled off.

She asked herself what she hadn’t done yet, and the answer was so overwhelming she could hardly breathe. If she took his advice, where would she start?

She gazed around the park, searching for a clue. Minutes passed and finally her heart rate began to slow. Then she saw the answer was simple.

“Blue jeans.”

It didn’t matter if she was frightened by everyday things that others took for granted. It didn’t matter if she felt alone in the world, something Rex had repeatedly warned her would happen if she ever tried to leave him. It didn’t matter that she no longer knew what a woman like her could actually achieve. Perhaps it didn’t even matter that she had failed at the things she had most hoped to accomplish and was still seeking forgiveness.

What mattered now were jeans. From what she could tell, she was the only person in Asheville who didn’t own a pair. If she didn’t want to stand out in the crowd, now was the time to remedy that.

She got to her feet, and her knees still trembled, but life was going to be like this. A pair of blue jeans. An afternoon alone in a strange—in more ways than one—city. Participating in a short conversation with someone she’d never met and wasn’t likely to see again.

Life. One step at a time with nobody blocking the way.

And if, for one moment after Taylor had dropped her off, she had yearned for Rex—who had all the answers as well as all the questions—then she supposed she could seek forgiveness for that, as well.

But first, one small thing. A pair of jeans.

This she could do.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.