Death Before Facebook

avoid talking about it for one more second.
    Here’s a guy who’s got some balls; only I don’t, it turns out.

CHAPTER TWENTY
     
    THE SOFTWARE THE TOWN used made it so cumbersome to edit that almost no one bothered. Lenore hated that, especially when she was writing to someone like Pearce, someone who might not realize her typos were really typos, might think she just couldn’t spell or punctuate.
    But he had just sent her a message, not E-mail, but the real-time notes the TOWNspeople called “sends.” It said, “Sorry I haven’t called. I miss you. Busy. Damn.”
    Very sweet
, she thought. She kept her answer short and simple: “I miss you too.” Good. No typos.
    Next came, “I hope you’re okay. I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
    So he didn’t correct his typos either. That gave her courage.
    “I’ve been kind of down,” she wrote. “Geoff’s funeral really got tome. That’s ‘to me,’ not ‘tomb.’ Though… one wonders.”
    “Sorry. So sorry,” he sent back. “Can I help?”
    Yes, he could help. He could damn well help. He could come over and hold her. He was a human being—that must mean he could provide a little human warmth. Did she dare ask for it?
    Without even considering, she did, too desperate to do otherwise: “Love to see you F2F—migt cheer me up.”
    “On my way,” appeared on the screen. No asking when, just on his way.
    Lenore smiled to herself. She liked a man who took action. And things were under control, for once. Kit had insisted on keeping Caitlin overnight. She’d said Lenore needed to rest, but in the back of her mind, Lenore was worried. What if Kit thought she’d spend another night doing drugs? Didn’t trust her with her own daughter? That was probably why she was so lonely tonight; because Caitlin was gone.
    She had slept most of the afternoon, unable to get up after two nights of staying up and doing drugs and trying to do magic. She knew the two didn’t go together, but she just felt so bad she needed whatever she could find, she couldn’t get through without a little chemical help. It was as if her healthy and unhealthy sides had gone to war—or perhaps “constructive” and “destructive” was the way to put it. “Destructive” had won out.
    She hadn’t told Kit it was two nights on drugs. As it was, she was deeply, deeply embarrassed at what she’d done, and embarrassed didn’t start it. Caitlin could have been hurt— could truly have been badly hurt if she really had forgotten and left her at home.
    Yet she hadn’t. Her destructive side might have won out in her own life, but the good mother still operated—managed somehow to go on automatic pilot and get Caitlin to day care.
    When she woke up that afternoon, she’d promised Kit no more drugs. And wonder of wonders, she felt pretty much okay right now, except for not being sleepy. It was getting late, and she had to go to work tomorrow—that is, she had to show up. If she was fired, she’d find out when she got there.
    She’d have a drink with Pearce, relax a little… and she’d sleep like a baby.
    The living room was strewn with Caitlin’s toys. She put them away, washed the supper dishes, and just had time to put on lipstick before he got there.
    “Hello, beautiful.”
    She felt better already. Uplifted by his good cheer.
    “I brought us some wine,” he said, and held up a bottle.
    She hadn’t even remembered she didn’t have any. How had she planned to entertain him?
    “You’re so thoughtful.”
    “You’re nice to make time for an old man.”
    She was in the kitchen, looking for a corkscrew, but his words affected her so deeply, she marched out again. “You are not an old man, Pearce. You are a very kind, decent soul. And extremely attractive.”
    Having delivered her speech, she turned on her heel and marched out again. As she fiddled with the corkscrew, he came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, and nuzzled her neck. She wriggled away.
    “I thought you said I was attractive.”
    She handed him a glass of wine. “You are. That wasn’t the signal to jump my bones.”
    “Oh. Would you let me know what is?”
    “Oh, come on.” Following him back to the living room, she took her own glass and the bottle. When he sat on the couch, she sat beside him, to show friendliness. (Though not necessarily availability; she hadn’t yet made up her mind about Pearce as a lover, knew only that he was a good friend and she enjoyed his company.)
    He