“How do you know?”
She snickers. “Here are two.A Touch of Minkwith Doris Day and Cary Grant, and one you’ll probably prefer isRear Windowwith James Stewart and Grace Kelly.”
“Why would I prefer one over the other?”
“Rear Windowis more suspenseful. It’s an Alfred Hitchcock film.”
“I’ve heard of him.”
“Start with that one. Then let me know your thoughts.”
“I will.” Sounding as tired as I feel, I’m about to pass out. “I’m beat, honey. Gonna get some sleep. I’m off work for a while. Administrative leave for the next week or so. I’ll check out the movie tomorrow. Send me a few more titles, would you?”
“Um, sure.” She sounds weird.
“I’ll write you back. A real letter.”
“Good. I’ll look forward to that.”
“You will? Do you like my letters?”
“Of course. It’s fun, you know, getting real mail.”
Fun? I was sort of hoping she’d say she loved to read letters fromme. I get it, though. She’s probably not feeling the same way as me. Perhaps in time…. “It is.”
“Get some sleep. Let me know how Ben is doing.”
Once again, she’s not saying that as a courtesy. I can tell she wants to know how he is.
“Now that I’ve got your number, I’ll text you with updates.”
“Good.”
“Thanks, Matilda.”
“For what?”
What am I thanking her for? “For just being there.”
“I’m always here.”
“Glad to know that.”
Neither one of us speaks for a full minute. She’s the one who finally breaks the dead air. “Good night, Alec.”
“Night.”
ChapterTwenty
Matilda
Did I imagine that?Did Alec Marchesani call me honey?
He did. He said something like, “I’m tired, honey.” I heard it myself. But what does it mean? Oh, who am I kidding? He’s just been through a traumatic event. Plus, he’s exhausted, which combined with trauma can make people say all sorts of odd things. Alec didn’t mean it. It was a slip of the tongue.
Great. Now I’m thinking about Alec’s tongue.
Bad idea, Matilda.
