Vivian
I ran as fast as I could. Coffee in one hand, sack of apples in the other. Purse over my shoulder, paper bag of used books on my wrist. The bag crinkled, the purse jingled, and the coffee splashed out of the little hole on the top.
I was as sore as I’d ever been. After I’d told Dash I was moving and described the little one-bedroom at the base of the hill, he spanked me and fucked me so hard I thought I would break like a china doll.
It was amazing.
But I’d overslept, and since I had to leave early to make the Friday home game, I had to get to work early. I was almost late. Sixty seconds to get to the library before the bell rang.
I nearly stepped right out of my shoe while getting up the steps, and my lungs burned as much as my *. When I crested the top of the stairs, I saw Jim coming from the opposite side of the hall. He stopped at the library door, keys swinging.
“Hey, you made it,” he said.
I didn’t have a full breath to answer. He opened the door just as the bell rang.
I dropped all my stuff behind my desk. Jim didn’t have first period PE class, so he could stand there with his hands in his pockets while I unloaded all my bags and oxygen.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No problem. Leaving early?”
“Yeah. But there’s no class in here, and I can do my paperwork at lunch.”
I dumped my apples in the bowl. The kids were on their way in.
He was still there, bouncing on his heels.
“Yes?” I said.
“I hate to ask, but I was wondering… could you score me some tickets for next week? Michelle’s birthday?”
“Probably. How is everything with her?”
He shrugged. “Same.”
“Breaking up?”
“And making up.” He winked just as a hoard of kids lined up in the hall for first period. He backed up a few steps toward the door. “Let me know about those tickets.”
“Will do.”
I spent the day in a sticky fog. I needed sleep. I needed to stay home. I needed a week without an airplane. I couldn’t focus on the paperwork I’d promised myself I’d do because I kept writing Dash a letter in my head.
It went something like, “Dear Dash. I love you. I’m tired. You did fine before you met me. You’ll do fine again.”
But I couldn’t. When a man told you he needed you, you showed up. I’d learned that from my dad. He’d shown up for my mother even after she was dead.
“Miss Foster?” Iris stood a few steps inside the library, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand.
I didn’t have a class visiting, so the room was quiet. “Hey, Iris, how are you?”
“I’m tired.”
I waved her in. “Did your mom take you to work last night?”
“No. Mi abuela took care of us.”
I looked at her closely. Her eyelids drooped. She was falling asleep standing up.
I felt her forehead. No fever. We didn’t have a nurse on staff, so there wasn’t much I could do. There was only an hour left until dismissal. I called the office and let them know Iris would take science class time to nap on the library couch. She was out before I even got a blanket on her.
Should I send a car for you?
I looked at my watch. If Iris slept for an hour, I could make it to Echo Park in thirty minutes, which was still an hour and a half before anyone sang the national anthem.
I have my gold Volvo. It’s superfast.
Are there any kids around? I want to tell you all the dirty things I’m going to do to your body He wouldn’t talk dirty when I had kids in the library. I was usually watched by no more than dancing bears and clown cutouts at two, but little Iris, breathing in shallow sleep, counted as a kid.
It’ll have to wait until tonight
Too bad
I’m shutting off the phone at 2:40. Let me know if you need anything before then He shut off the phone in the stadium to keep his mind on what he was doing, and devices weren’t allowed in the locker room or dugout anyway.
See you later, Slugger
I shall say good night till it be morrow I left it there and got back to my requisitions. I didn’t notice the time again until three, and I sat straight with a start. I should have been locking up. That extra five minutes on a Friday, with traffic to Echo Park on a game night, was going to count for an extra ten minutes of travel time.
“Iris?”
She’d slept the entire hour.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Iris, despiertate chiquita. Wake up.”
I shook her a little and patted her. She didn’t move, and her breath was so slight I couldn’t detect it right away. I panicked, getting hot and cold at the same time. She looked too relaxed. Nothing was moving. Not her eyelids or her fingers. Nothing. I put my fingers on her cheek. She was alive.
Jesus. My head went crazy sometimes. Of course she was alive.
“Iris? Come on. Time to go.”
She didn’t look good.
That instinct that had freaked me out? The one where I’d thought she was dead? The instinct was right, but the conclusion was wrong.
She was not all right.
I picked her up. She was a complete dead weight.
I left everything at my desk and ran her downstairs.