High Noon

with thirty minutes on the ride home?
    A bubble bath. Yoga. Give herself a facial. Clean out the junk drawer in her desk.
    All were a better use of her time. But a deal was a deal.
    Carly sprinted into the foyer to take a flying leap into Phoebe’s arms. No outside irritations could stand up against a Carly hug.
    “You’ve been in Gran’s perfume.” To make Carly giggle she sniffed elaborately at her daughter’s neck.
    “She let me have a spritz. Dinner’s all ready, and I finished my homework.” Leaning back, Carly beamed into her mother’s face. “You get to be excused from doing the dishes tonight.”
    “Wow. How come I rate?”
    “So you can get ready for your date. Come on!” Wiggling down, Carly took Phoebe’s hand to drag her toward the dining room. “Gran thinks you should wear your blue sweater, and Ava thinks the white blouse that ties in the back. But I think you should wear your green dress.”
    “The green dress isn’t really the thing for a quick evening meeting.”
    “But you look so pretty in it.”
    “She should save it,” Ava commented as Carly dragged Phoebe in. “For when he takes her out to dinner. Sit right down, it’s all ready. We wanted to give you plenty of time to primp.”
    “It’s a drink. It’s only a drink in an Irish pub.”
    Ava set her hands on her hips. “Excuse me? Tonight you represent every dateless woman in this city, every woman who’s about to sit down to a lonely meal of Weight Watchers pasta primavera she’s just nuked in the microwave. Every woman who’ll get into bed tonight with a book or reruns of Sex and the City as her only companion. You,” she said, pointing her finger at Phoebe, “are our shining hope.”
    “Oh God.”
    Essie patted Phoebe’s shoulder before she sat down. “But no pressure.”
     
    She didn’t want to be a shining hope. But she got on the bus. She had to refuse Ava’s offer of her car three times, and disappoint Carly by choosing a black sweater and jeans over the green dress. But she put on the earrings her daughter picked out, and redid her makeup.
    Life, Phoebe knew, was full of compromises.
    She got a wolf whistle from Johnnie Porter—all of fifteen and full of sass—as he circled her on his bike.
    “You sure look pretty tonight, Miz Mac Namara. Got a hot date?”
    Now she worried she looked as if she were expecting a hot date. “Why, thank you, Johnnie, but no. I’m off to catch a CAT.”
    “You going somewhere, you can just hop on here with me.” He popped a little show-off wheelie. “I’ll give you a ride.”
    “That’s neighborly of you, but I believe I’ll stick with the bus. How’s your mama?”
    “Oh, she’s fine. She’s got Aunt Susie over.” Johnnie rolled his eyes elaborately on his next circle. “Talking about my cousin Juliet’s wedding. So I lit out. Sure you don’t want to boost on up on my handlebars?”
    How a fifteen-year-old boy could turn that into a sexual innuendo was puzzling. “I’m sure.”
    “See you later, then.”
    Off to find some trouble, Phoebe thought with a shake of her head as he zipped down the wide sidewalk. God help the neighborhood when he was old enough to drive.
    It was just cool enough she was grateful for the sweater as she walked from the bus stop along East River Street. Plenty of others enjoyed the evening and the stroll, wandering in or out of restaurants and clubs, pausing to window-shop or just gaze out over the water.
    So many couples, she thought, hand in hand, taking in that balmy air. Mama had a point, she supposed. It was nice—could be nice—to have someone to hold hands with on a pretty spring evening.
    And it was better, given her personal situation, not to think about that sort of thing. Especially when she was about to have a drink with a very cute man.
    She had plenty of hands to hold. So many, in fact, that a solitary walk along the river was a rare indulgence. Take the moment, she advised herself and, because she had a few minutes, slowed her pace, turned toward the water, and enjoyed the indulgence.
    And see, she mused, she wasn’t the only one on her own. She saw a man, solitary as she, standing spread-legged in a pool of shadow and watching the water. The bill of his ball cap angled low over his face while a pair of cameras were strapped bandolier style over his dark windbreaker.
    Not everyone was a couple.
    Maybe she would bring Carly down for a long walk on Saturday, she thought as she tipped her head back, let the