Ann Beattie - Love Always

Brown started the car. At the bottom of the hill, he hung a right. He was going to another one of his favorite hiding places. This one was actually a dirt road that cut through a patch of woods. Brown liked to take the half-circle at top speed and screech to a halt. The trees were so lush this time of year, because of all the rain, that when they parked they had to peer through branches to see the road. When they got there, Brown slowed to turn, then held the wheel hard and accelerated. When he saw the big car parked on the dirt road, there was no way he could stop in time. He cut the wheels and, scraping branches, bumped off the dirt into mud. Miraculously, he had avoided hitting the car, but what the hell was it? It looked like something out of a Zap comic.

“You all right?” Brown said.

The wheels on the passenger’s side were clearly sunk in mud. Pasani’s arm that he had used to brace himself throbbed.

“Yeah,” he said.

The back door of the big car flew open, and a girl jumped out. She looked terrified. Pasani was going to leave it to Brown to discuss it with her. Brown actually looked nervous. He got out of the car.

“Hello,” Brown said, walking forward. There was movement in the back of the car. Brown froze, then put his hand on his holster. There was a minute in which both he and the girl stood there. The girl was holding … Pasani couldn’t see through all the branches crisscrossing the windshield. He bumped into Brown’s seat and stepped out the door.

“Hold it,” Brown said, walking forward.

It was a camera she was holding.

Pasani could hardly believe his eyes. The man was naked, trying to pull on his pants. The girl — she was only a girl — was crying.

“Get out of the car,” Brown said. “What’s going on?”

The man started to get out. He had his hands in the air, as though Brown had told him to do that.

“What in the hell is this?” Brown said, turning to face Pasani.

“We’re taking pictures. We’re not doing anything,” the girl said. “You can search the car and everything. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Pictures?” Brown said. He saw a bear head and jumped back. It was a rug. The man had put the wrong leg in his pants and had to step out and try again. While he was doing this, the girl put her hands over her face and started to cry. Pasani’s heart sank. His fingers hesitated on his holster. This was serious, whatever it was. Nothing could be worse, when he was with Brown, than having something happen that Brown hadn’t seen on TV.

IT was late at night on Monday when Lucy got home and got the call from the police station. The first thing she did when they hung up was to try to call Hildon; as she feared, Maureen answered the phone. “Lucy,” Maureen said, “I must tell you that you have disturbed my sleep. This is not a proper time to make a phone call, and I am within my rights to hang up.” She hung up before Lucy could say anything.

Lucy cursed and reached for her car keys. They were not on the table. Of all times to lose her car keys. She took a deep breath and tried to remember where she had put them. As she was moving piles of magazines on the table, the idea hit her that she could get someone else to call Hildon. She called Noonan and woke him up. “This is important,” Lucy said. “I can’t explain right now. Do me a favor: call Hildon and have him call me. Will you?”

“Why can’t you do it?” Noonan said.

“I just can’t. I’m sorry to bother you, but this is very important.”

“Hang up,” Noonan said.

She put the phone down and waited. It hit her for the first time that it might be wise to call a lawyer. She sat on the sofa, still without the keys, and wondered who knew a lawyer that she could call. A bee buzzed up and down the window glass. Looking at the bee, she saw the keys, partly hidden beside the television. She snatched them up. Her hand was trembling. She pounced on the phone when it rang.

“What’s the game?” Noonan said.

“What game?”

“I called Hildon’s, and Maureen answered, and she had a little speech about the polite hours to place phone calls.”

“She wouldn’t put Hildon on?”

“No.”

“Shit. She did the same thing to me. That’s why I had you call.”

“Is everything all right?” Noonan said.

“I’ve got to get Hildon,” Lucy said.

“Call her back and yell if it’s important.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I don’t understand anything about the way heterosexuals relate to one another,” Noonan said. “I never have and I never will.”

“Listen,” Lucy said. “Can I come over and pick you up? I’ve got to go to the police station and I’m afraid to go alone.”

“What is it?” Noonan said, his voice changing entirely.

“According to Nicole, it’s nothing. It’s — it seems awful. I can’t keep talking. She’s waiting for me.”

“I was asleep,” Noonan said. “I took a sleeping pill.”

“You’re awake now, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Noonan said.

“I’m coming over,” Lucy said. “This is important. Jesus — this had better be as easy to explain as Nicole said. She was off parking with Edward, apparently. You don’t think it was anything other than that, do you?”

“Don’t ask me,” Noonan said. “She’s not exactly naïve.”

“Don’t say that,” Lucy said.

“The irony is, I stole these pills from Hildon and Maureen’s medicine cabinet,” Noonan said.

“Should I call a lawyer?” Lucy said. “Why can’t I ever think what to do?”

“Don’t call a lawyer. Let’s go down there and check it out.”

“Okay. Get dressed. I’ll be right over.”

“You already said that. Hang up,” Noonan said.

“Oh God, I hope this isn’t something awful. If Jane finds out about this, she’ll kill me. I’m ready to kill Nicole myself.”

“Goodbye,” Noonan said.

“That goddamn California artist manqué,” Lucy said.

“Are we having a general discussion about your feelings, or are you going to come over?”

“If he’s done anything to Nicole, I’m going to make sure he ends up behind bars.”

“What do you think about Mondale having a woman Vice President?” Noonan said.

Lucy hung up. It was cold outside. She started back for her jacket, but suddenly she didn’t think she had a second to spare. Forty-five minutes had elapsed since she got the phone call. She must have been in shock. She would tell the police that she was in shock. No: then maybe they wouldn’t take her seriously. If Edward had done something awful to Nicole, she was going to have him killed. She should have known that grown men don’t pal around that way with fourteen-year-old girls. All the times he said he had been driving her into town, it must have been a lie. All the movies they said they saw … He was a pervert — he got the assignment from the toy company on purpose, and she was too stupid to figure it out. He wasn’t cooling his heels until he found out whether he was going to New York; he was lusting after her niece. None of it made sense, suddenly. She must have been mad to believe it. She couldn’t tell whether she was shivering from fear or from the cold.

She pulled up in front of Noonan’s. The smell of honeysuckle caught in her throat. The wind was blowing through the small willow trees Noonan had bought at the nursery. She pulled into the gravel driveway. Noonan ran out of the house. The second she saw him she wondered why she had stopped. She was picking up a crazy person to take to the police station with her. As he ran, Noonan flapped his arms like a bird. He threw open the car door and thumped onto the seat. He was clutching a washrag, pressed to his forehead. “Hay fever,” he said. “I put so much Afrin down my nose, I should just chew a cherry at the same time and skip the evening drinks.”