“I never thought that—”
“I can’t believe this.”
“I’m sorry! Please, Dad. Don’t leave me in here. I messed up. Please give me another chance.”
“Susan, it’s Friday. It’s a workday. How are you at a midday protest on a weekday? What’s going on?”
“Oh, Dad. I…”
She could picture him at his desk, drumming his fingers on the wood surface, torn between his love for her and the sheer frustration he felt. The two of them had been so close when she was small. He’d had such big dreams for her, and he’d always been there when she needed him. But Sassy had let him down many times.
“I lost my job,” she said quietly. How could she ever tell him what had happened with Mr. Brown? It would break his heart.
“What?! When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Dad, please. Not now. I just want to get out of here. It’s awful here.”
“I want to know what happened with your job.”
“Later, Dad, okay? Please?” She caught her breath, tears burning. “I can’t talk about it here.”
“But why—” Her heart twisted, hearing his exasperation. “You will explain it to me later.”
She was full-out crying now. She faced the wall so no one in the police station could see.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I really am.”
He sighed. “Last chance, Susan. I will get you out of there, then you will live up to your end.”
She leaned her back against the wall, bracing herself. She felt sure her knees were about to give way. “I promise.”
He hung up, and she was led back to a cell. On that long walk down the cement hallway, she silently prayed.Please, please, life. Don’t make me break that promise.
elevenMARION
On the morning after her date with Paul, Marion left the apartment at nine o’clock, slung her purse over her shoulder, then quick-walked the twenty minutes to the medical library. Having accomplished the first step in her mission to help Daniel Neumann by securing him as her patient, now she had to see if she could dig up anything that might work for him.
The date with Paul had been all right, she could admit. He was beguiling and amusing, and she claimed victory over their discussion about deinstitutionalization, but the evening’s ending had turned her a little sour. She’d gotten such a kick out of watching her neighbour perform a few songs. She’d commented a few times to Paul about how talented she thought the girl was. Paul had nodded, but after the fourth mention, he’d looked a little bewildered.
“I get that you think she’s good,” he said. “Why are you so excited about it?”
“She’s my neighbour. I practically know her! Isn’t that exciting? It’s like she’s a celebrity.”
“You’re all worked up over an amateur singer in a club who lives in your building. Unreal, Marion. You really need to get out more often.”
He couldn’t dampen her spirits, though. After the first song, her neighbour played two encores. The last was “Where Have All the Flowers Gone,”and everyone in the coffeehouse had sung along. It was beautiful, and Marion decided that one of these days she would work up the nerve to go and introduce herself at the apartment. After the set was done and the girl had left the stage, Marion lost interest in the show. Especially since the next performer was a long-haired, bearded man who looked like he hadn’t showered in a week. He hunched over his guitar and sang in kind of a growly, incoherent voice she didn’t recognize as English. Paul had laughed at her twisted expression then driven her home.
“Let me walk you up,” he offered, his blue eyes sparkling in the streetlight.
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Dr. McKenny,” she reminded him. “I’ll see you at work.”
“You don’t want to offer me a cup of tea or something?”
“I just had drinks with you for the past two hours. I’m not thirsty anymore. Thank you, Paul. I enjoyed tonight. Now, say good night.”
They climbed out of the car and regarded each other over its roof.
He let out a huff, looking resigned. “I’m sorry to say it, Marion, but you’re missing out.”
