The Right Time

by Susan X Meagher

  Townsend opened the door and got out, still looking pale and thin. As Hennessy backed up, the headlamps caught her, making her ghostly white. Hurriedly, Hennessy drove away, refusing to look in the rearview mirror. It was too painful to see her so lost and alone, but staying together was asking for trouble, and that’s the last thing they needed. They had all the trouble they could handle.

  Townsend rolled her suitcase into the main lobby of the school, where a uniformed guy sat at a reception/monitoring station. He looked like he was keeping an eye on a nuclear power plant, with half a dozen monitors spread out in front of him.

  “Is this the Green Mountain Spa?” she asked, trying to seem like a confused tourist.

  “No, ma’am,” he said, then squinted to get a better look at her. “Did you come in that big SUV that just pulled away?”

  “Uh-huh. We were running out of gas. My…mom went to fill up. I’m supposed to check in.”

  He stood up and looked at her for a second. She’d seen this dope around campus a few times. With any luck, she looked bad enough that he wouldn’t remember her. “The Spa’s a good two miles further down the road. But you can sit on that bench there and wait for your mom.”

  “No, I’ll go out to the main road. That’ll save her some trouble.”

  “She’s going to have plenty of trouble,” he said. “There’s no gas station open this late.”

  “Got it,” she said, nodding. “I’ll call and tell her that. Thanks.” She took her phone from her pocket and fake-dialed. “Mom? Come on back. This isn’t the hotel, and there isn’t a gas station that’s open.” She waved as she hit the door, then stuck the phone back into her pocket and kept going.

  Once she was on the main road, really just a two-lane county highway, she ditched her suitcase behind a big tree, then covered it up with some of the dead leaves the winter hadn’t destroyed. It wouldn’t be horrible to have someone take it, but it had her computer in it and she couldn’t swing another one this year—not without begging.

  It was a little chilly, not bad enough to kill her, but cold enough to be annoying. Her down jacket was going to come in handy. Too bad she hadn’t thought to bring gloves, but it was the end of friggin’ March!

  The only thing to do was get moving and keep moving, so she headed for the edge of the campus. There was no fence, and she didn’t think they had the perimeter wired or anything, so she could cut across wherever she wished. Having no place to hang out, she decided to climb the big hill again, just to see how it looked without snow.

  As she got near the end of the school plot, a bird, big and dark, flew over her head, the fwap, fwap, fwap of wide wings nearly making her wet herself. Yeah, there were probably things in the woods she didn’t want to meet, but she didn’t deserve a nice, safe evening. She deserved bats and owls and snakes and mountain lions. Maybe one would eat her and finish this mess.

  Hennessy had no idea where to go. She didn’t have a credit card, hadn’t brought much cash, and wouldn’t have spent it on a hotel even if she had. The car was such a nice one, big, expensive, pristine and white, that no one would expect a girl to be sleeping in it. She just had to find the right kind of place to park.

  It took a while, but she made it back to the interstate and found a rest stop. It was pretty basic, with just a bathroom, vending machines, and a couple of picnic tables.

  Hers was the only car, but a few semis had pulled around back. If the police didn’t bother them, they probably wouldn’t bother her. She got into the back seat, took some clothes from her bag to use as a pillow, wrapped a sweatshirt around her feet for a little warmth, and tried to relax. The damned car was as comfortable as her bed at home, and only a little shorter. After unsuccessfully trying to clear her mind, she let herself think of Townsend, the pink-cheeked, smiling girl she’d seen on Saturday in Cambridge.

  The one who hadn’t had a drink in over eight months.

  The one who radiated optimism and confidence and pluck.

  The one who’d lost every one of those attributes two days later.

  Townsend took her time climbing the hill. She had to, given how slick and treacherous the path was. Calling it a path was kind of a joke. It was just a thicket of scraggly trees, all trying to push some pale green leaves onto their spindly branches, most of them having little success.

  The ground was covered with fallen branches, dead leaves, and rocks. Big ones. But they’d stopped her from sliding back down a few times, so she wasn’t going to complain.

  Why she wanted to climb the hill was anyone’s guess. It would have been a hell of a lot nicer to be inside her dorm, safe, warm and protected, and watched closer than a lab rat.

  During the semester, she had to get checked in every night. But she had complete freedom until Sunday, and there was no way she’d volunteer for more time under the microscope. Hennessy could go screw herself.

  It took a couple of hours to reach the summit, and she was bruised and a little bloody from sharp branches hitting her in the face. But she’d made it. Desperate to sit down, but not crazy about having wet jeans on such a chilly night, she leaned against the biggest of the pine trees she could find, the hardwoods having stopped further down the hill.

  The campus didn’t look very charming tonight. Just a few lights were on, very dim. And without the magical white blanket of snow smoothing over the terrain, it just looked like another bunch of buildings. Institutional.

  After hunting around the summit, she finally found enough branches to pile up in a neat crosshatch pattern and use them to keep her butt dry. They were remarkably uncomfortable, but being in a little pain was a good idea. She could sit and think about everything she’d thrown away this week. Trust, love, her future.

  Even though she wanted to be tough, Townsend had to admit what a wimp she was. At six, when the sun broke over the hill, she got up, dusted herself off, and headed back down. Her dramatic vow to live in the woods until Sunday had evaporated. Now she just wanted a shower and some clean clothes.

  Going down was much faster than going up, even though it hurt her legs more. She was shaking by the time she reached level ground, but appeared pretty normal when she crossed campus and went to the main entrance to her dorm.

  The buzzer sounded, the grating noise annoying the shit out of her every time she heard it. She casually scanned her ID in the reader, announcing, “I’m back early,” to the guard who regarded her with open disdain.

  “Bartley?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you have permission to be here?”

  “Everybody’s got to be somewhere,” she said, slipping by him to head to her room.

  Hennessy had clearly not had access to a shower. Her hair, normally bouncy and shiny as it brushed across her shoulders, was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail. And even though Townsend’s memory was admittedly hazy, she was pretty certain the navy blue slacks and pink golf shirt were retreads from the day before. “Where’d you wind up?” Townsend asked as she got into the car.

  “Not far from here.” She turned and gave Townsend a long look. “Did you sleep?”

  “Not much.” Shrugging, she said, “I spent the night reminding myself what a fuck-up I am.”

  “Not helpful.” She didn’t ask for directions, just took off confidently. They drove toward the small town closest to the school, then pulled into a space a few doors down from a diner. Townsend had never been to it, not much of a fan of diner-style food. But she could definitely see Hennessy liking it—simple, fast, and inexpensive.

  They went inside and found an empty booth, an old Formica table with deep red, plastic covered bench seats. Townsend chose the side facing away from the windows. Her head still hurt like a bitch, and the light made her eyes ache and water.

  There were about ten people in the place, most of them probably locals. Guys with rust-colored work jackets and faded jeans, baseball caps pulled low over their eyes. A couple of old women sat at a table, showing each other photos, talking excitedly. A quick-movi
ng waitress bustled over, coffee pots in each hand. Townsend pointed at the one without the orange band near the top. Decaf wouldn’t begin to cut through the haze.

  Hennessy looked up and gave a polite smile. “I’d like a cup of tea please.”

  “Lemon?” the no-nonsense woman asked.

  “Yes, please.” As the woman moved away, Hennessy gazed at Townsend, unblinking. “First things first. How are you going to go about finding a new sponsor?”

  The woman had a one-track mind. “I don’t know,” she said, already irritated. “Sharon suggested somebody, but I don’t like him.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Giving her a perturbed look, Townsend said, “I’m new to this shit, you know. I thought your sponsor was supposed to be reliable!”

  Hennessy reached across the table and lightly gripped her hand. “Sponsors are struggling with the same disease. They’re human, too.”

  Townsend dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her face roughly. “I know that,” she said, her body as stiff and pain-filled as her sixty-seven year old gram’s. “But I depended on Sharon. She let me down.”

  Hennessy didn’t say a word.

  Finally, Townsend lifted her head. “I…let you down, too.” Her voice shook roughly. “Goddamn me, I was so sure I could do this.”

  “You can and you will. But you’ve got to get comfortable with the fact that it’s not ever a smooth road.”

  “But what do I do?”

  “You find a new sponsor. Right now. Then you start all over again. You go back to step one and start fresh.”

  Those words—go back to step one—hit her right in the chest. Townsend’s lower lip started to tremble, and she sniffed. “I have to give my chips back, don’t I?”

  With a gentle smile, Hennessy nodded. “You’ll earn them again.”

  Townsend began to sob, the strength of her reaction surprising the hell out of her. “They mean so much to me,” she murmured. Pulling the plastic disk from her pocket, she held it in her shaking hand and regarded it with deep longing. “I rub it when I feel tempted. It’s my lucky charm.”

  The expression on Hennessy’s face was heartbreaking. Like she was the one who’d slipped. “I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am that you had a slip.”

  Her fingers closed around the disk, then she turned her hand and slapped the damned thing onto the table. Any luck it bore was long gone. “I didn’t have a slip. I had a crash.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Hennessy said, her eyes vivid with confidence. “You can get up and start over. Nothing is broken, there’s no lasting harm. It was a slip.”

  The old women at the next table had stopped talking. Now they were sneaking looks at her, then whispering behind hands held over their mouths. Townsend wiped at her eyes and slid out of the booth. “Can we get out of here? People are staring at me.”

  “I’ll pay the check. You wait outside.”

  Townsend watched Hennessy through the window, patiently waiting to pay for something they hadn’t received. Knowing her, she’d leave a tip, too.

  Hennessy came out, slipped her hands into her pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. “Is there any fast food around here? I’m really hungry.”

  “No.” She thought, then said. “There’s a nice place about twenty minutes from here. I’ll buy,” she added quickly.

  Nodding, Hennessy got back into the car.

  “Head north,” Townsend directed. “Just follow this road and it’ll lead us to a bigger town.”

  “Well, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us. How do you want to pass the time? I know,” she said before Townsend could begin to answer, “let’s talk about what was going on in your head that made you want to drink.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Townsend grumbled. “Are you always this lively on car trips?”

  “Always. Just part of my fun-loving personality.”

  “All right.” Townsend curled up in the large, leather seat, tucking her feet under her body. After reclining the back, she faced Hennessy and stared at the side of her face for a long time. When Hennessy gave her a puzzled look, she said, “I think better when I’m looking at something pretty.” Images of the past day and a half started to seep into her memory again and she closed her eyes tightly, hoping that would help banish them.

  Townsend fidgeted in her chair, then reclined it further. If there were a way to get out of the car, or better, out of her head, she would have taken it in a second. But she was stuck, unable to clear her mind or stop those penetrating blue eyes from boring into her. “I don’t know if you’re the right person to talk to about this.”

  Hennessy nodded, as if she expected that answer. “It’s all right if you can’t talk to me, but you should talk about it with someone. Soon. Do you…can you call your therapist?”

  Letting out a bitter laugh, Townsend said, “I don’t have a real therapist. Just some employee who tries to get stuff out of me to go to the warden with.” When Hennessy’s eyes widened with surprise and dismay, Townsend leaned her seat back further. Looking into that innocent, trusting face made her want to hurl herself from the car. She’d promised she’d work harder in therapy. Promised. How many damned promises had she already broken? A dozen?

  But Hennessy wasn’t in a reproachful mood. As always, she was ready to move on. “That’s why I want to make sure you have a sponsor. You need someone to talk to. Someone who’ll keep your secrets.”

  Secrets. If she told anyone all of her secrets—she sucked in a breath. Images of Hennessy, innocent, open, filled with desire, had been assaulting her since that night. Her guts were a ball of pain, spasming every time those visions snuck in and refused to leave.

  “I know I need to talk to a therapist,” she said. “But I have to talk to you, too.”

  She could see Hennessy’s body tense. God knew what she was waiting for, but whatever it was, it couldn’t possibly be as bad as the reality. “Go ahead,” Hennessy said, her knuckles whitening on the wheel.

  Townsend stared at the ceiling, trying to summon her strength. Touching Hennessy always centered her, but today she looked at her hand and pulled it back, unwilling to taint her with it. Like ripping off a bandage, doing it fast was best. “We have to talk about the other night. The way I treated you.”

  “The other night?”

  “When we were…kissing.”

  Hennessy turned her head and gave her a quick smile. “We’ll get there. I’m proud of you for working on being patient. I know sex is a big thing for you, but we have to talk about your slip.”

  “I am,” Townsend said quietly. “That was the first step.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not patient,” she said, contempt for herself infusing her words. “I didn’t stop because I understood it’s important to wait. I stopped because I…I’d tricked you into going as far as we did.”

  “Tricked me? What in the hell are you talking about? How do you trick someone into…that?”

  Smacking her forehead with her open palm, Townsend moaned, “Damn, Hennessy, sometimes you’re as naïve as a child. It’s incredibly easy to trick someone into going further than they want. I’ve had it done to me a dozen times and I’ve done it to others.”

  “You did that to me? On purpose?” Hennessy sounded like she was about to cry. That made it so much worse. Being yelled at was many, many times better than hurting someone’s feelings.

  “Yes, damn it, I did that to you.”

  “Fuck. Just…fuck.”

  Townsend knew she should find something, anything, to say to let Hennessy know she hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but she had nothing. Having never learned how to apologize for something she felt shitty about, she didn’t know exactly how to do it with any kind of sincerity.

  So neither of them spoke, the silence heavy and oppressive.

  Hennessy pulled over and stopped the car, then rolled the window down and relaxed her seat, leaning back and staring out for a while. The weather was so damned nice,
warm and sunny, with the scents of spring heavy in the air. Those little yellow flowers that grew off the sides of sticks were everywhere, making everything look springy. But the atmosphere inside the car was still in the middle of winter—cold and harsh and unyielding.

  “Tell me what happened,” Hennessy finally said. “I want to know everything.”

  “It’s not that complex.” Townsend just wanted to get it over with. “You were receptive, and I kept pushing until I got what I wanted.”

  Turning to face her, Hennessy’s head cocked, clearly puzzled. “That’s not what happened. You didn’t push me at all. Honestly, that was just about the first time we were together that I didn’t feel like I had to be on guard.”

  “Right. That’s when you have to be more careful. A user like me makes you feel like it’s your idea, but it’s not. I manipulated you to get you there. It’s as simple as that.”

  “But…why would you do that to me?” Hennessy asked, her voice breaking. “You know I didn’t want to do more than kiss.”

  “But I did,” Townsend said, hearing the hard edge that she’d developed. “I wanted to have sex with you, and when I saw the opportunity, I jumped at it.”

  “You don’t do that to someone you love. You just don’t.”

  Townsend reached over and grasped her hand, holding it loosely. “But I do love you. I do. I’m just… I want to show how much I love you, and that’s how I do it.”

  The dark head shook slowly. “Love isn’t what you say. Love is what you do, and trying to trick me into having sex wasn’t a loving thing, no matter how much you wanted it.”

  “I know that,” she said quietly. “That’s why I stopped. I couldn’t go through with it. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t go through with it.”

  Hennessy paused, then wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Strangely, she started to smile. “Do you mean that?”