Page 58 of The Devil You Know
“A few is three,” I explain. “A couple is two.”
“Jane…” He lowers his head. “Please. I need this.”
So when it comes down to it, what choice do I have?
Chapter 22
It’s been a long time since I’ve traveled on the Long Island Railroad, also known as the LIRR, pronounced “lerrrrr.” It’s the first time I’ve taken it with Leah, at least. We’re sitting together in the cushioned seats, her little head resting on my lap, while I try to figure out how the hell we’re going to get home from the LIRR station closest to where we live.
It’s been a long journey. Ben drove us to South Station in Boston, where we caught the next Amtrak train to Penn Station. For the first hour or so of the train ride, Leah was super excited to be on the train, singing to herself, “Just a small town Mommy, living in a lonely Mommy. Took the midnight train going to Mommmmmmyyyyyy!” By the time we were on the train two hours, the novelty had completely worn off. Leah wantedoffthe midnight train going to Mommy. Fortunately, by the third hour, she had mostly passed out, her little stomach filled with everything the train’s snack bar had to offer.
By the time we got into the city, it was already dark and Leah was walking in slow motion as I dragged her to the LIRR station. We hopped a train in the direction of Jamaica, and now here we are, less than half an hour away from home on a near empty train. It’s so quiet in here that every sound from the track echoes through the car.
I’ve been calling Lisa on and off, knowing she’s my best shot at getting home. But she hasn’t picked up, and the last two times I called, it went straight to voicemail. That means the phone is probably sitting in her purse, out of batteries. So basically, she has no clue I’m attempting to call her.
That leaves… well, nobody. I’ve only lived in Long Island for a year, and Lisa’s the only friend I’ve made who I could contemplate asking to pick me up at the train station at close to midnight. I mean, that’s a lot to ask.
It looks like I need to call for a taxi. Or an Uber, if I’m in the mood for getting murdered tonight. (I’m just kidding… I’m sure Uber is super safe and wonderful. I just think there’s a non-zero chance the driver could kill me.)
While I’m Googling the number of a local taxi company, a text message from Ryan pops up on the screen:
Back in town yet?
Before I can stop myself, I write back:Almost. Leah and I are on the LIRR.
Just you and Leah?
Yes.
Where’s Pip?
I hesitate.He decided to stay in Reading another couple of days.
Interesting. You need a ride?
I do. I desperately do. But not from him.
I’ll catch a taxi,I type.
No way. Let me drive you.
I bite my lip.I don’t trust your driving with Leah in the car.
I’ll drive slow. I promise.
I look out the window at the blackness whizzing past us. We’re going to be practically the only people at the station so late on a Monday night. And when I put my fingers against the glass, it feels nearly frozen to touch. It would be nice to have someone waiting for us.
Okay.
Half an hour later, we pull into our stop. Leah is still sound asleep and my attempts to rouse her are met with irritable groaning. So I lift up all forty pounds of her as well as the consolidated bag of her stuff and mine, then I hurry off the train before it can leave with us still on it.
It’s freezing. Even with my heavy coat on and Leah’s warm body resting against me, I’m shivering. I feel the wind go right up my coat and I hug Leah tighter.
“Jane!”
I turn and see the figure at the other end of the platform, waving to me. For some reason, I get a flash of déjà vu to when Ben used to take the train out to visit his mother, and I’d meet him at the platform when he got back. I remember how excited we’d both be to see each other. He’d run down the platform toward me, drop his bag, and grab me in a giant bear hug.I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole time I was gone,he’d say.
Except this isn’t Ben. It’s Ryan. He jogs towards me, his handsome face in shadows until he’s a few feet away, and then I see the smile break out. He quickly grabs my bag from me and tosses it on his shoulder like it weighs as much asair. Then he looks at the sleeping bundle in my arms and for a second, he seems like he might offer to take her off my hands too, but of course, he doesn’t.
