Despite still being apprehensive about going inside, an unusual sense ofpoliteness spurred me on. Someone was waiting on me, and the innate urgeto not...disappoint drove me forward. The realization of my motivation hitme as I climbed the stone steps onto the porch, and I wondered if thatsudden need to please was from me.Or Sasha.However, I still gave Matthew my hardest stare as I walked past him intothe house. I was not happy at all that he'd simply dismissed my concernsas hysterics. Dammit, I. This was still residential, but quiet in the early evening twilight. We soon reached my destination, and turned south again along the railroad right of way. Emily noticed, and commented.“Wouldn’t it be easier along the road?”“Probably. But, if it is easier for you and me, won’t it be easier for anybody wandering around? Or, perhaps worse, somebody looking to remedy the gaps in his preparations for this sort of midnight stroll?”“Wouldn’t you help somebody in need? You couldn’t simply walk past. She skipped several Saturday mornings at the mall. We stopped eating dinner together unless I cooked, and even then, she would make her excuses and leave my apartment shortly after she was done eating. And she mostly went through the motions at church. The joy and enthusiasm she once exuded were gone. Even Michael often only got to exchange basic pleasantries with her after the service.I was at a loss for how to respond. All I really knew to do was to be there for her, but wasn’t sure what she. .I..." Sylvia stammered. "You better sit down, Helen."Her best friend indicated the couch. Helen obliged her."Here. I made you a drink," said Sylvia, indicating two tumblers of rum and coke on the coffee table."I'd better not, Sylvia," Helen told her. "Kyle is home from college and he's got a bunch of friends coming over. I don't want him smelling booze on my breath." Well," said Sylvia. "I'm going to need one if I'm going to get through this. And you might need one too."She picked up her glass.
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