The Lincoln Lawyer

nodded.
    “I was thinking the same thing.”
    “You seem all right. You only had half a pint at -”
    “No, I mean I was thinking the same thing about you. But don’t worry, I’ll drive you home.”
    “Thank you.”
    Then she reached across the table and put her hand on my wrist.
    “And will you take me back to get my car in the morning?”
    She smiled sweetly at me. I looked at her, trying to read this woman who had told me to hit the road four years before. The woman I had never been able to get by or get over, whose rejection sent me reeling into a relationship I knew from the beginning couldn’t go the distance.
    “Sure,” I said. “I’ll take you.”

Friday, March 18

SEVENTEEN
    I n the morning I awoke to find my eight-year-old daughter sleeping between me and my ex-wife. Light was leaking in from a cathedral window high up on the wall. When I had lived here that window had always bothered me because it let in too much light too early in the mornings. Looking up at the pattern it threw on the inclined ceiling, I reviewed what had happened the night before and remembered that I had ended up drinking all but one glass of the bottle of wine at the restaurant. I remembered taking Maggie home to the apartment and coming in to find our daughter had already fallen asleep for the night-in her own bed.
    After the babysitter had been released, Maggie opened another bottle of wine. When we finished it she took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom we had shared for four years, but not in four years. What bothered me now was that my memory had absorbed all the wine and I could not remember whether it had been a triumphant return to the bedroom or a failure. I also could not remember what words had been spoken, what promises had possibly been made.
    “This is not fair to her.”
    I turned my head on the pillow. Maggie was awake. She was looking at our sleeping daughter’s angelic face.
    “What isn’t fair?”
    “Her waking up and finding you here. She might get her hopes up or just get the wrong idea.”
    “How’d she get in here?”
    “I carried her in. She had a nightmare.”
    “How often does she have nightmares?”
    “Usually, when she sleeps alone. In her room.”
    “So she sleeps in here all the time?”
    Something about my tone bothered her.
    “Don’t start. You have no idea what it’s like to raise a child by yourself.”
    “I know. I’m not saying anything. So what do you want me to do, leave before she wakes up? I could get dressed and act like I just came by to get you and drive you back to your car.”
    “I don’t know. Get dressed for now. Try not to wake her up.”
    I slipped out of the bed, grabbed my clothes and went down the hall to the guest bathroom. I was confused by how much Maggie’s demeanor toward me had changed overnight. Alcohol, I decided. Or maybe something I did or said after we’d gotten back to the apartment. I quickly got dressed and went back up the hallway to the bedroom and peeked in.
    Hayley was still asleep. With her arms spread across two pillows she looked like an angel with wings. Maggie was pulling a long-sleeve T-shirt over an old pair of sweats she’d had since back when we were married. I walked in and stepped over to her.
    “I’m going to go and come back,” I whispered.
    “What?” she said with annoyance. “I thought we were going to get the car.”
    “But I thought you didn’t want her to wake up and see me. So let me go and I’ll have some coffee or something and be back in an hour. We can all go together and get your car and then I’ll take Hayley to school. I’ll even pick her up later if you want. My calendar’s clear today.”
    “Just like that? You’re going to start driving her to school?”
    “She’s my daughter. Don’t you remember anything I told you last night?”
    She shifted the line of her jaw and I knew from experience that this was when the heavy artillery came out. I was missing something. Maggie had shifted gears.
    “Well, yes, but I thought you were just saying that,” she said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I just thought you were trying to get into my head on your case or just plain get me into bed. I don’t know.”
    I laughed and shook my head. Any fantasies about us that I’d had the night before were vanishing quickly.
    “I wasn’t the one who led the other up the steps to the bedroom,” I said.
    “Oh, so it was really about the case. You wanted what I knew about your case.”
    I just stared at