A CRY FROM THE DEEP Read Online Free PDF Page B

they had drifted apart, each trapped in a bubble. It had been no surprise that their divorce turned out to be an amicable one. Richard hated scenes and because of Alex, Catherine was forever grateful.
    They had stopped at a light. She said, “How’s the rest of your practice? Still turning heads inside out?”
    “Not much has changed. I’ve got the usual assortment of the too thin, too rich, and too…” He glanced back at Alex, whose face was pressed against the side window. “Too forked.”
    Catherine said wryly, “Forked?”
    “You know what I mean.”
    Alex groaned and gave her mother an oh, brother look. Catherine couldn’t help smiling. Alex was at the age where you couldn’t get much past her.
    It was too bad she and Richard couldn’t have made it. Especially for Alex’s sake. When Richard had showed up at arrivals to greet them, Alex had run to him shrieking with delight.
    He had swung her around and said, “Look at your legs! You’re getting so tall.”
    Catherine always got a lump in her throat at these times. She still blamed herself for dragging their daughter so far away. When he had put Alex down, she and Richard had hugged awkwardly, as if they’d never hugged one another before. It was strange how intimate they’d once been. That alone made her wary of any future attachment. You love someone one day, and the next, you’re both strangers.
    As they drove on, she was glad that Alex—after taking a recess—was back at entertaining her father with tales of Disney World. Her incessant chattering left little room for small talk or any uncomfortable silence.
    Richard turned on to Central Park West, where the traffic had slowed to a crawl. Up ahead, there seemed to be an accident. It was bumper to bumper as one driver after the other swiveled to find an opening. They inched forward. It seemed to take forever before Richard was able to turn left at West 75 th Street and then right on Columbus Avenue. It was still slow, but better slow than stuck in the midst of steaming New Yorkers. On the other side of the road, an outdoor flea market, one city block long, was in full swing.
    Alex rolled down her window. “Mama, can we stop, please, please, please?”
    “Oh, Alex,” said Catherine. It’d been hectic since they’d left Provence and the last thing she wanted was a stop at a crowded marketplace.
    “Well…?” asked Richard. “You better make up your minds fast.”
    Catherine threw up her hands. Parking was always a headache. “Suit yourself.”
    Richard gamely looked for a spot. He could never say no to Alex.
    “Looks like you’re going to get your wish,” said Catherine.
    “How about I drop you both off, and I’ll come and find you?”
    Catherine scanned the throngs weaving past the various stalls and spotted a canopy with lettering: Hats by Helene. She checked her watch and then pointed at the sign. “How about we meet at eleven by that hat table?” Maybe the market wouldn’t be so bad. She could always use another hat.
     
    ~~~
     
    Catherine and Alex had walked the entire circuit—of antiques, homemade foods, and old photographs of once-famous stars—before Richard caught up with them at the hat table. Catherine was trying to decide whether to buy a black wool one with a brim and a braided ribbon around the crown. It reminded her of the hat Diane Keaton wore in that Woody Allen picture decades ago. Some things never went out of style.
    “Looks good on you.” He smiled approvingly.
    “It does, Mama.”
    Catherine checked her image in the hand mirror on the table. She liked what she saw and pulled her wallet out from her bag.
    Richard took out a roll of bills from his pants pocket. “Let me get it for you.”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “It’s only a hat, Catherine.”
    She hesitated and then said, “If you’re sure.” She grinned as he paid the seller. “Thanks. You’ve always been generous.”
    “You’re welcome.” Richard put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “What about