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He grabbed at that and got dressed. |
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In minutes they were pulling out of the parking lot. They drove through Harvard Square in silence. Except for a few late stragglers, the streets were deserted. |
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They cut behind the square into Mass. Ave. and headed west. "Where do you want to go?" |
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"No place." Her voice was flat, lifeless. |
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He let the silence settle, then said, "Terry, will you ever forgive me?" |
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He did not repeat the question. He'd been stupid to ask. What did he expect? |
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The car moved down Mass. Ave. through Porter Square. The farther they got from Harvard, the more barren the streets. When they reached the intersection at Alewife before crossing into Arlington, Terry said, "I want to go home." |
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"Okay." He slowed the car down to make a U-turn. |
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"Why? Why in God's name go back there?" |
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She did not answer. In the dim light she just stared out of the window, her face a blank. |
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Maybe it was a last-ditch effort to reconcile with the past. Maybe a kind of ritual leavetaking. Or maybe it was something else. Whatever, he didn't understand. And he wasn't certain that she did. It was the last place he would have imagined her wanting to go this night. She hated the house, all it had become. But he drove her there. |
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As expected, at 2:00 A.M. the neighborhood was pitch dark. He resented the coziness of the other homesfamilies in bed, mornings full of life. He rounded the corner of Jason and was about to drive by and turn around at the top when Terry said, "No, pull in." |
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He cut the wheel and slowly drove up the driveway. |
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The house, of course, was black, but somehow it was still unsettling. No matter how late it was when he'd return, there was always |
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