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Meg
October
Four Weeks before the Election
Temescal Canyon is close to where I live and a popular hiking spot for locals. The day is overcast, and because it’s a weekday, the parking lot is mostly empty. I lock my door and scan the surrounding cars, pulling the collar of my windbreaker against my neck. It’ll be good to feel the burn of a steep hill, to sweat out my nerves, which have been pulled so tight I feel as if they’re sitting on top of my skin. Everything depends on tomorrow, on my ability to sell Ron a vision of himself that exists only in his mind. If I can’t, there won’t be time for a plan B.
Kat’s car pulls in next to mine, and I wait while she pays her parking fee and slides the ticket onto her dash. Then we head through the lot and into the park.
“What happened to your car?” she asks.
I glance back at my bumper, still bent inward. “Some guy on Sunset. He was on his phone and plowed into me.”
Kat’s expression crinkles with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. That thing’s a tank. His car was pretty messed up though.”
Our feet crunch on the dirt path as a few hikers pass us in the opposite direction. My breathing opens up, my shoulders release, and I allow myself time to enjoy the fresh air. I wait until the trail narrows and starts to incline upward to bring up Scott. “How are you doing with everything?”
“Okay, I guess. It’s quiet at home with Scott gone, so I’m glad for an opportunity to get out.”
“Did you file a police report?”
“Last week,” she says.
“What did they say? Can they do anything?” We slide into single file as the path narrows, with Kat directly behind me. The trail drops off to the left into a deep canyon and I can’t see her face, but I imagine her carefully arranging her expression, flipping through the things she can and cannot say in order to maintain the facade that Scott is a midlevel bank employee and not a well-respected member of LAPD’s Commercial Crimes Division.
“They’re looking into it. But since the credit card was used for some household expenses, it doesn’t look good.”
Between her words are all the things she cannot say. What it must have been like for her to report him to his colleagues and the very real chance that they might cover for him. We’re quiet, our breath growing labored as the incline steepens. A group of laughing women approach us on their way down, and we step aside to let them pass. When we resume, I say, “You’re tougher than you think. You’ll get through this and be better for it.” And she will. I know for a fact that when your heart gets ripped out, it’ll reassemble into something stronger. More durable.
She doesn’t respond, but I know she heard me.
***
We make it up to the waterfall and turn around. The trip down is quiet and fast, and soon we find ourselves walking through a large clearing dotted with sycamore trees and a picnic table in the center. I gesture toward it and say, “Rest a bit before we go back to the real world?”
She shrugs. “Sure.”
When we’re settled, I say, “So what are your next steps?”
“I’ve sent the police report to Citibank and frozen the account, so at least he can’t do any more damage.”
“Did you report him to his supervisor?”
She looks away and says, “He’s got a copy of the police report, yes.”
I like the careful way she speaks. She’s better at this than she thinks.
“And the phone?” I ask.
“Also with the police.” She shakes her head. “What I really need is to get back to work.”
I look at Kat, thinking about how I want to respond. As much as I’ve enjoyed having her around, when Kat went dark, things got simpler. The next few weeks will require precise timing and a flawless performance. “Things are slow right now. I don’t have anything for you to do.”
“What about Ron?” she asks. “Won’t he buy something else?”
“Right now, he’s ahead in the polls, so he wants to wait. See if he might rather buy something in Sacramento.” I turn and straddle the bench so I’m facing her. “Listen, forget about Ron. Forget about the shit-paying job I gave you,” I say. “You have a chance to reinvent yourself. To step out of the person you’ve been told you are and become who you want to be. Write that novel. Go on safari. Buy a boat and sail to Hawaii. Do something big. Something daring. Surprise everyone, even yourself.”
