Ann Beattie - Love Always

“Jesus,” Lucy said, on the verge of tears for the first time, “this is just awful.”

“She’s all right, isn’t she?”

“I talked to her. She seemed to be all right. Why wouldn’t they let her come home? Isn’t this unlawful detention?”

“Bite your tongue when you get there and listen,” Noonan said. “Don’t make them mad.”

“If he’s done anything to her, I’ll kill him.”

“You want me to drive?”

“No thanks.”

“Then please slow down. I feel like we’re coming in for a landing.”

“Do you have a cigarette?” Lucy said.

He reached in his pocket and took out a silver case. He removed a cigarette and handed it to her. He rummaged around in his pocket, then pushed in the car lighter. When it popped, he pulled it out and held it toward her. She ducked her head and lit the cigarette.

“Did you get a discount on the trees?” she said.

“Yes, thank you,” Noonan said. “I did what you said: I found the most attractive boy there, mentioned your name, and he gave me a ten percent discount.”

“If he did anything to her, I’ll kill him.”

“The boy at the nursery?”

“Edward.”

“Oh. Well, I need to ask you something. Do you want me to go ahead and ask, or just let it prey on my mind?”

“I don’t know what you’re going to ask,” Lucy said.

“Something about Hildon.”

They were in front of the police barracks. She was signaling to turn. Cars passed her in slow motion.

“What about him?”

“Have you been having an affair all this time?”

Lucy faltered. Another group of cars approached, and she couldn’t turn. He was squeezing the washcloth over the bridge of his nose. He reached in his pocket, took out the Afrin, and sprayed. He pinched his nostrils closed. “Oh God,” Noonan said, exhaling through his mouth.

“What makes you ask that?” Lucy said.

“Nigel does that all day long,” Noonan said. “If you ask him what time it is, he asks you why you want to know.”

“Why did you ask?” Lucy said.

“I already have my answer,” Noonan said.

Lucy turned off the ignition. The long cigarette ash fell on her leg.

“Yes,” she said. “Don’t tell anybody.”

“I can’t understand why everybody is suddenly so up front with me. Is it because I’m leaving for California?”

“No,” she said. “For some reason, I’ve just started to appreciate you. Why did you ask?”

“After we spoke, I called back. What Maureen did was outrageous. I demanded to speak to Hildon. I said it was an emergency. And do you know what she said? She said, ‘I think it’s quite awful for Lucy Spenser to call in the middle of the night asking for Hildon, just to throw me off, since I obviously think he’s with her. It’s another thing entirely that you’re pimping.’ ”

“She said that?”

“She says outrageous things all the time. At the staff party, she told me that the people who worked with me thought I was murky.”

“I don’t think that,” Lucy said.

“Thank you,” Noonan said.

“I just think that when people express their true feelings, it embarrasses you, and you say things that are crueler than you intend.”

“I don’t intend to say anything cruel to you,” Noonan said. “You’ve always been a real friend.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said, reaching across and putting her arm around his shoulder.

“It’s disappointing that I don’t have a heterosexual impulse in my whole body,” Noonan said. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad Hildon is covering the bases,” he said. “Are we going in or not?”

“Did you hear what you just said? And I know you didn’t mean it to be insulting. By implication, I was part of your metaphor. And how do you think it feels to be thought of as a base? An inanimate object? A sandbag?”

“Spare me a feminist lecture,” Noonan said. “I’m about to keel over. I feel like somebody’s got a blindfold over my eyes and is pulling.”

“What do I do when I go in there?” Lucy said. “I’m terrified.”

“Try to act normal. See what they want you to do.”

“Who will I say you are?”

“A homosexual who writes for a magazine,” Noonan said. Lucy got out of the car. Noonan got out his side.

“Leave your washcloth in the car,” Lucy said.

“Sorry,” Noonan said. He went back to the car and put the washcloth on the dashboard.

“You don’t think anything happened, do you?” Lucy said.

“You got mad at me when I answered that question before.”

“You do?”

“It seems probable,” Noonan said.

“What’s going to happen?”

“I’m sure they’ll tell you.”

“I’ll kill him,” Lucy said.

“Stay calm,” Noonan said.

Noonan reached around Lucy and pulled open the door. They were in a small square room, with a high desk to the left. They walked across the dirty linoleum floor to the desk. Lucy smiled. Noonan stood behind her.

“Mrs. Spenser?” the policeman behind the desk said.

On the radio, Cyndi Lauper was singing “Time After Time.”

Instead of the usual anger she felt when she was called Mrs. Spenser, Lucy felt herself growing taller. She hoped that her attempt to look unshaken would not be mistaken for imperiousness. She forgot that Noonan was standing behind her and walked behind the desk. “What is it?” she said.

“Mrs. Spenser, your niece is fine. Did you understand what officer Brown said to you on the phone?”

“Where is she?” Lucy said.

“She fell asleep. She’s fine. We think that you should talk to officer Brown.”

“Where is Edward?” she said.

“You know the man?” the policeman said.

“I’m acquainted with him,” Lucy said. The minute she said it, she realized that it sounded absurd.

“Mrs. Spenser,” the policeman said. “Please have a chair.”

“Isn’t this unlawful detainment? What is the charge?” Lucy said.

“Mrs. Spenser, we are not trying to make a charge at the present moment. We are concerned because we need to determine whether there has been foul play.”

“I’d kill him,” Lucy said.

“Mrs. Spenser, we need your consent as legal guardian to have your niece examined.”

Lucy put her hand over her mouth.

“Mrs. Spenser, please. Your niece is fine. Do you want to see her? She has fallen asleep. Let’s get her, so you can hear her version of the story.”

The policeman looked at Noonan. “Mr. Spenser?” he said.

“I’m a friend of the family,” Noonan said.

“Mr? …”

“Noonan.”

“Mr. Noonan. We’re going to let you hear her version of the story. Are you a lawyer, Mr. Noonan?”

“A journalist,” Noonan said.

“That’s the same thing,” the policeman said. “Mr. Noonan, please step this way with Mrs. Spenser.”

Noonan began to have a sneezing fit. He was about to fall asleep, so he found it hard to keep his balance when the sneezes shook him. Lucy was walking down the corridor in front of him. He ran to catch up, sneezing violently.

“Where is she?” Lucy said.

Noonan began to sneeze convulsively. He reached in his pocket for the Afrin, threw his head back and squirted it in each nostril. “God help me,” he said.

“If he’s done anything, I’ll kill him,” Lucy said.

The policeman threw open a door. Nicole was asleep on a couch, a pile of uniforms on top of her.

“She’s sleeping,” Lucy said stupidly.

“Mrs. Spenser. We want you to talk to her. We need your permission to have her examined. I must tell you that if you refuse permission, we will begin proceedings to obtain permission.”

Noonan began to sneeze wildly. Nicole heard him and shot up. She saw Lucy and was disoriented. Then she reached out and tried to grab Lucy, but she had no muscle coordination; she had been roused from a dead sleep. “Lucy?” she said. “You believe me, don’t you?” Nicole started to cry. “Can we go home?”