Page 32 of Maybe Some Other Time
Except it wasn’t Bill she was thinking about, despite how awful she felt about him having to pick up the pieces of their familyafter she disappeared. Instead, what Thelma saw when she looked at this photo was something else.
The lie behind it all.
Oh, there was still that part of her that believed this was some divine punishment for her cheating on her husband with another woman. Even though Thelma had made peace with what had happened to her, who was she to question God and His mysterious ways? How was she to know that thiswasn’tsome strange purgatory where everyone waited around for theiractualretribution?
She thought of Megan, the girl who might not have ever existed had Thelma not disappeared.She has a girlfriend.Dare Thelma believe that this world was different enough? That it had changed enough for her to be… herself?
And could she ever let go of the guilt she harbored when she thought of Sandy instead of Bill?
Chapter nine
From the Depths of the Chest
Pauline was waiting for Thelma and Jo after class, and for once, Thelma wished she was relegated to the backseat of someone’s car so she could be alone with her thoughts.
They had reached the ‘70s in history class. One of the biggest events had been something called the “Watergate” scandal, and President Richard Nixon, who subsequently resigned as a result. What most of the class thought was“Well, yes, presidents are corrupted, you know?”threw Thelma into another tailspin. Because, in her admittedly naïve view, the thought of the American president beingso blatantly corruptmade her feel like she was in purgatory again.Eisenhower would have never. Would he?She had voted for him both times. Thelma wasn’t even registered with a party, and Bill had been a staunch Roosevelt Democrat, which often led to arguments with other men in the neighborhood, but neither had anythingagainstEisenhower. He had done good things!
Thelma was the first dropped off since Van Nuys was along the way to where Jo lived. She gathered her purse and thecanvas tote full of notes she had been sent home with from the FBI building. After thanking Pauline for the ride, Thelma stood on the porch to Robbie’s house and wondered why the lights were off inside—something she didn’t notice until Pauline’s headlights had disappeared down the road.
Right. They’re both gone tonight.Robbie said he was out with friends from out of town, and Megan was staying at her “friend’s,” although Thelma had a feeling they were closer thanjustfriends.
Will I get to meet that girl?
Thelma had her own key now, but she hesitated letting herself in. The night was lovely, wasn’t it? Maybe she’d leave her tote bag by the door and wander into the small backyard where she could sit beneath the dark sky and pretend she didn’t hear any of the faraway traffic making its way through town.
She was about to turn the corner of the house when another set of headlights flashed in her direction. It was Gretchen coming home next door.
“Oh. Hey.” She got out of her large truck and tossed something into the back. Somewhere beneath the unflattering jacket and dirty work pants was a woman who had lightly flirted with Thelma back in the department store dressing room, the last time they exchanged more than a few words of greeting.She was flirting with me, right?Thelma bit down on her lip before remembering there was no one else around to watch them. “Did you just get home?”
Thelma approached the fence.Well, someone’s watching me.That someone was Fiddles, who perched in the darkened living room window, the curtains half-obscuring his tabby body. “Yes. You?”
“Uh…”
“Oh, my goodness, what am I saying? I clearly saw you come home.” Thelma held her tote bag up as she covered her mouth inembarrassment. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. I just got back from class, and…”
Gretchen glanced at the tote bag. “What’s that? You’re taking night classes?”
“Mm, yes.” With her purse strapped across her chest—as was fashionable now, she found—Thelma held her unmarked tote bag against her torso. “Trying to complete my degree,” she lied. “I’ve got so much history to catch up on.”
“I see.”
With the crickets chirping nearby, Thelma caught the vibrations between her and Gretchen and said immediately what came to mind. “Would you like to come in for some tea? I’m not used to being in the house by myself at night.”
Gretchen’s eyes widened in the modicum of light shining from her front porch sensor. “With me smelling like this? Robert would kick my ass. Last time I stopped in for something, I tracked mud into his living room, and I never heard the end of it. Is that manalwaysbitching about something?”
Thelma attempted to hide how crestfallen this information made her. “Yes, well… yes.”
She turned, ready to say goodnight.Go inside and lick my wounds.It truly had been a long day. What did Thelma think she was doing, inviting the neighbor over? For what reason? Her own curiosity?
“You wanna come over here, instead? I’ve got tea too.”
Thelma couldn’t scurry around the fence quickly enough.
She had yet to be in Gretchen’s house, which was much cozier looking than Robbie’s and somewhatlargerin square footage. Megan had told her that there were the same number of bedrooms and bathrooms—three and two, respectively—but the Stewarts’ had a larger living room and kitchen. All Thelma cared about was the dark green siding and bright white trim.Compared to Robbie’s black house… well, it wasn’t good for staying cool, that was for sure!
“Ah…” When Thelma entered, she was instantly smacked with the air of a woman who both knew exactly what she wanted while not knowing how to get it. Gretchen had probably kept the house mostly as it had been left to her when her parents passed, because why update the furniture or rip out the carpet if it worked for her?As if I know the difference.Everything looked modern to Thelma. Even a house trapped in the late ‘90s. “What a lovely home.”
Gretchen turned on the lights and removed her jacket, eyebrows arched on her forehead.My goodness, she’s so fetching like this.That was plaid flannel beneath Gretchen’s jacket, and her hair was the playful kind of shaggy that reminded Thelma of the girls at school who cut their hair short, regretted it, and couldn’t wait for it to grow out again. Except Gretchen seemed the kind who would get it cut again as soon as she could. But she was busy. Wasn’t everyone?
