Deaths of Jocasta Read Online Free PDF Page A

me,” Emma said as she entered. There was a slight hesitation as she noticed my state of dress, then she continued, “Given what you told me when you arrived.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” I answered, trying to be casual. I couldn’t remember Emma ever seeing me like this. I had always been careful in my actions and appearances around her. “I had fun with those college kids.”
    “I saw you with a drink. I thought maybe I had…”
    “Tonic water, with a lime. It was the only thing I could come up with to stop people from offering me drinks. What shirt should I wear?” I said, still trying to be nonchalant.
    “The burgundy, I think. It sets off your eyes.”
    “Then Rhett, the college boy bartender, saw my drink was low and made me another one. A real one this time with a generous amount of gin. I was looking for some place to ditch it when I took a wrong turn and ran into someone. Hence the need for a new shirt,” I babbled to cover my awkwardness.
    “Micky,” Emma said. She had picked up the burgundy shirt. “I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give.”
    “I know,” I answered too quickly, cutting her off.
    “Why don’t you put on your shirt if it will make you more comfortable?”
    “It’s okay, I’m still drying off,” I lied, unwilling to so visibly show my discomfort by hiding my breasts from her.
    “What do you think you owe me?” she asked.
    “My firstborn child and any cat that can be guaranteed to hit the litter pan one hundred percent of the time,” I answered. She didn’t say anything for a while, making me regret my smart answer. What could I say? I owed her nothing and my life.
    “Well,” she said finally, handing me the shirt, “I hope we get a chance to talk sometime this weekend. Maybe you’ll have an answer then.”
    “I hope we get to talk,” I replied.
    I reached for my shirt. She was careful not to let our fingers touch.
    “Well, Rachel is right,” she said as she turned to go. “You do have nice breasts.”
    I dropped my shirt. Then quickly bent to pick it up so Emma wouldn’t catch the look on my face. I would have been less surprised if I’d heard a nun say what she had just said.
    “Anything you want,” I blurted out, answering her question, not knowing what she could want from me.
    “Nothing physical, believe me,” she replied, framed for a moment in the doorway, mistaking my answer. Or perhaps not. Perhaps that’s what I was offering her.
    She was gone, closing the door softly behind her.
    I stood holding my shirt.
    Damn, damn it, I thought as I pulled it on. I left my room, slowly descending the stairs, wondering what other minefields I might yet step in.
    I went back out onto the porch, carefully this time, but no one was there. Then I wandered off onto the starlit lawn, finally pacing the perimeter where the gray yard faded into the dark woods.
    I made a wide arc around the blue cottage, not wanting to come near the warm nimbus of light from its windows. I caught a glimpse of Joanne and Danny from one lit window, then Alex and Elly half-framed in another, animatedly talking in front of the unneeded warmth of the fire.
    For a moment I almost turned to go knock on the door and ask to be invited in, but instead I kept walking. I was out of place tonight, each step jarring on uneven ground. No one had told me that love and friendship would be so hard. But I don’t guess anyone can ever tell you.
    I halted my pacing and sat on a low-hanging branch of an old oak tree. Rachel said there were bullet holes in it from the Civil War, but I could never find them. I stayed there, a dark figure in the dark, trying to etch the constellations, but instead seeing only the blinking and shuttering of electric lights in the house and the cottages. When the lights in the blue cottage finally went out, I got up and returned to the house. A few hushed voices came from the living room and the kitchen. I avoided them, going instead into the deserted