Chapter 13: The Bench Behind the School

My sister parked at the edge of the school lot and turned off the engine.

"I'll be right here," she said. "If you aren't back in twenty minutes, I'm coming for you."

"It's a bench."

"It's Mona."

I walked around the gym to the back, where the bike rack stood empty and the one working light buzzed over the dumpsters.

Mona was already on the bench in her soft green coat, with her hands pulled up inside her sleeves.

She did not stand.

"You came," she said.

"You said it was about the day I lost the baby."

"It is."

I stayed on my feet.

"Brad wasn't with a client," Mona said. "He was in my kitchen."

The chain on the flagpole clanged in the wind.

"My husband was in Cincinnati for three weeks on a bridge job. He had asked Brad to look in on me."

"He looked in."

"He came at noon with groceries. He stayed until midnight."

I could see the paper gown again, and the folded form with the date on it.

"He said you had gone quiet and he couldn't sit in it," she said. "He said that to me, in my kitchen, with his hand on my table."

"I was in a hospital bed. I wasn't being quiet at him."

"I know."

"Did you?"

"Not then." She looked at the ground. "That was the day it started. Eli was born the next March."