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“Oh, God, no,” she whispers. She stands up abruptly and tries to get past him. He catches her arm.
“Whoa, time out,” he says. “Sit.”
Tears pool in Janie’s eyes. She covers her mouth.
“Jesus, Janie. I’m just playing with your mind a little. I’m sorry. Hey,” he says. He keeps hold of her wrist, lightly.
She feels like a fool.
“Come on, Hannagan. Look at me, will you? Listen to me.”
Janie can’t look at him. She sees Carrie, half-standing, peering over the bookshelves, a concerned look on her face. Janie waves her away. Carrie sits down.
“Janie.”
“What, already,” she says, growing hot. “And will you please let go of me before I call security?”
He drops her wrist like a ba
ked potato.
His eyes widen.
“Forget it.” He sighs. “I’m an asshole.” He looks away.
Janie walks back to her table and sits down miserably.
“What was that?” Carrie hisses.
Janie looks at her and summons a calm smile. She shakes her head. “Nothing. The new guy just told me . . . that . . . ” She stalls, pretending to search for a pen. “That, uh, I’m doing the advance math equations completely wrong. I . . . you know me. I hate to be wrong. Math’s my best subject, you know.” She pulls out a sheet of paper and opens her math book. “Now I’ve got to start all over.”
“Sheesh, Janie. You looked like he just threatened to kill you or something.”
Janie laughs. “As if.”
1:30 p.m.
Cabel tries to catch Janie’s eye in government class. She ignores him.
2:20 p.m.
P.E. It’s coed this year. The students play rotating games of five-on-five basketball. Guys against the girls.
Janie commits the most egregious foul Fieldridge High School has ever seen. When he is able, the new guy stands up and insists it was his fault.
The P.E. staff confer, and decide girls versus guys is not a good idea for contact sports. Coach Crater gives Janie a hard look. She returns it, with interest.
2:45 p.m.
Janie dries off hurriedly after her shower and slips into her scrubs for work. The bell rings. She takes her stuff and jumps in her car so she’s not late for work.
8:01 p.m.
Life is blissfully calm at Heather Home tonight. Janie finishes her paperwork and her other duties on the floor early, so she goes to see Miss Stubin. She shuffles her feet and clears her throat so Miss Stubin knows Janie is there.
“It’s me, Janie. Are you up for a few chapters of Jane Eyre?” Janie asks.
Miss Stubin smiles warmly and turns her face toward Janie’s voice. “I’d love it, if you have the time.”
Janie pulls the visitor chair closer to the bed and begins where they left off last time. She doesn’t notice when Miss Stubin drifts off to sleep.
8:24 p.m.
Janie is standing on a street called Center in a small town. Everything is in black and white, like an old movie. Nearby, a couple strolls arm and arm, window-shopping. Janie follows them. The store windows are filled with simplicity. Saws and hammers. Yarn and material. Baking sheets and metal tins. Dry goods.
The couple stops at the corner, and Janie can see the young woman has been crying. The young man is wearing a military uniform.
He pulls the young woman gently around the corner of the building, and they kiss passionately. He touches her breast and says something, and she shakes her head, no. He tries again, and she moves his hand away. He pulls back. “Please, Martha. Let me make love to you before I go.”
The young woman, Martha, begins to say no. Then she turns, and looks at Janie with complete regret in her eyes. “Not even in my dream?” she says.
Martha waits for Janie to respond.
Janie looks at the young man. He is frozen, momentarily, gazing adoringly at Martha. Martha pleads with her eyes locked on Janie. “Help me, Janie.”
Janie, startled, shrugs and nods, and Martha smiles through her tears. She turns back to the young man, touches his face, his lips, and nods. They walk through the alley, away from Janie. Janie takes a step to follow them, but she doesn’t want to see any more of this dream—it’s too intimate. She grips the chair in Miss Stubin’s room with all her might, concentrates, and pulls herself back into the nursing home.
It’s 8:43 p.m. Janie shakes her head to clear it. Surprised. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. She did it—she pulled herself out of the dream. And she’s not getting sucked back into it. Janie chuckles quietly to herself.
Miss Stubin sleeps peacefully, a smile on her thin, tired lips. It must be nice for poor old Miss Stubin to have a good dream.
Janie leaves the book on the table and exits the room quietly. She turns off the light and closes the door, giving Miss Stubin some intimate time alone with her soldier.
Before he dies.
And she never has the chance again.
September 9, 2005, 12:45 p.m.
“Why didn’t you tell me the new guy was Cabel Strumheller?” Carrie demands.
Janie looks up from her book. She sits in the library at their usual table. “Because I’m an asshole?” She smiles sweetly.
Carrie tries to hold back a laugh. “Yes, you are. I see you’re driving him to school.”
“Only when he misses the bus,” Janie says lightly.
