Chapter 8

Rain fell through the streetlight outside the little store. Claire pushed open the glass door, Nathan just behind her.

“Have a look around,” the woman at the counter said.

“Thanks.”

Claire went to the shelves. Nathan approached the counter.

“Hello, Linda.”

“Nathan!” The woman looked up, delighted.

“I brought a friend to pick something up.”

“When did you get back to Bayport? Have you seen your grandmother?”

“We had dinner yesterday.”

He glanced toward Claire. She took a blue box of pads from the shelf, looked at it shyly, then searched for something else. He considered how uncomfortable she might feel paying with him standing there.

“I'm going outside to make a call.”

“All right.”

Claire brought the box to the counter after he left.

“This, please.”

“Seven dollars.”

As Linda put it into a paper bag, Claire searched her pockets. Her phone was still on the dining-room table.

“I forgot my money. I'll go back for my phone.”

“No need for all that.” Linda took out her own phone and called on speaker.

“Linda?”

“That little girlfriend you brought forgot her money. What kind of boyfriend are you? Come pay for her.”

Claire rubbed at her hair in embarrassment, trying to interrupt.

“She isn't—” Nathan began.

“Work isn't more important than your girlfriend. Come back.” Linda ended the call and smiled at Claire. “Would you like a seat?”

“No, thank you. We aren't together.”

“Not yet? So he's still trying to win you over.”

“No, he isn't. He… I…”

Nathan came through the door before she could find a way out of the explanation.

“That was quick. Go on, pay.”

He paid with his phone. Claire stood beside him, hands folded, head lowered.

“Carry it for her,” Linda said, giving Nathan the bag.

“I can take it. Thank you.” Claire reached for it at once.

“We'll be going,” Nathan said.

“Come back soon.”

He followed Claire out and saw the red stain on the back of her white dress. His expression changed.

“Bye, Linda.”

She waved from the doorway. He turned back toward Claire and followed her into the rainy night.

“I'm sorry about that,” he said as they walked along the hotel corridor. “I didn't mean to make things awkward.”

“She doesn't know you're married? You seem to know her well.”

“Not many people know.”

So he and Vanessa had kept their marriage quiet.

Daniel hurried toward them with a white paper bag.

“What you asked for, Professor.”

“Thanks.”

“I'll head back to school.”

He left. Nathan led Claire toward an unused private dining room.

“This one has its own bathroom. You can use it.”

“I can just use the public restroom.”

“It might be easier here. You may need to change your clothes.”

She looked at the stain and accepted the bag.

“Oh. Thank you. I'll pay you for this and the pads when I get my phone.”

“No hurry.”

She went toward the bathroom while he waited outside. Voices came from the corridor; Evan had an arm around Vanessa.

“Your sweet little wife has been gone a long time. Aren't you worried?”

“She'll be fine. She's independent.”

Claire had just come back toward the dining-room entrance. Nathan reached her, pulled her into the private bathroom, and covered her mouth. Outside, Evan's voice continued.

“She doesn't flirt. Doesn't know how to make a man happy. Doesn't even know how to ask for help.”

“Really?”

They came into the unused room.

“Why such a rush?” Vanessa asked.

“No one's in here. Let's try somewhere different.”

Against the bathroom wall, Claire looked up at Nathan. Tears filled her eyes. She gripped his jacket. He slowly took his hand from her mouth, though they were still close. She looked down; both their hands were trembling.

Outside, Vanessa leaned against the dining table as Evan came close.

“What about your husband?” he asked.

“Probably making another work call.” She put her arms around his neck, stepped on his shoe, and touched his face and mouth. “What's wrong, handsome? Jealous?”

“You know I am.” He caught her hand and pulled her against him. Their kiss carried them toward the wall.

Inside the bathroom, Claire stood beside Nathan, fighting her tears. He watched her without speaking.

Evan pressed Vanessa's hand to the wall with his fingers threaded through hers.

“I want all of you.”

Claire's tears fell. Nathan shifted a small step closer. Outside, Evan kissed Vanessa's neck; she closed her eyes.

Nathan raised his hands at last. His fingers passed gently through Claire's hair beside her ears. She trembled and shut her eyes. He covered both ears with his palms and drew her against him, shutting out the sounds.

She would remember that day: his hands over her ears, holding her when she was too humiliated to bear being seen.

Nathan lowered his head and closed his eyes. He hated the absence of sound, had hated it almost beyond endurance. Yet in that moment he found something beautiful in the quiet.

When they opened their eyes, they looked at each other with tears still bright in their faces. His hands stayed over her ears.

Outside, Evan tucked in his shirt and fixed his trousers and tie. Vanessa adjusted the strap that had slipped from her shoulder. As he walked toward the table, she tried the bathroom door. It wouldn't open. She turned the handle hard, tried again, and frowned.

“Why's this locked?”

She rattled it once more.

“Hello? Is somebody in there? Who is it?” She knocked loudly.

Nathan watched the closed door, his hands still shielding Claire's ears. She bit her lip.

Evan came over and tried the handle too.

“Someone lock it from inside?”

“Who's in there?” Vanessa called.

Evan began pounding.

“Open the door. Come on. Open it!”