“Are you suggesting I can’t walk?” “No.” She laughed. “You are. Just for that I’m going to walk you home whether you like it or not. To prove I can.” “All right.” But she had to lead him most of the way. Jack could talk better than he could navigate when he was high. When they reached the apartment she hailed a cab for him and put him in it. She stood there watching it pull away down West End Avenue, watching it till it was indistinguishable from the sea of red tail lights traveling with it. And she felt an awakening affection for him. Chapter Seven It was hard to get up the next day. Not impossible, just hard. Discouraging. Her head ached, and she was dissatisfied with herself. For the first time she wanted to cut work. But she went and she did her job. It wasn’t until the middle of the afternoon that she jumped to hear Sarah ask, “What’s the matter, Laura? A little under the weather?” Laura looked up at her. _Do I look that bad?_ she wondered. “I’m a little tired. Why?” “The reports are piling up,” Sarah said, nodding at them. Laura rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I’ll catch up. I’ll work late.” “Don’t be silly!” Sarah laughed good-naturedly. “Catch up tomorrow. There’s not that much of a rush.” But the next day she didn’t quite catch up; she got farther behind, in fact. Burr and Marcie had kept her up. It was partly the quarrel and partly the torturing silence that followed it. She went to work still more tired than the day before. Dr. Carstens came in to tell her a story about one of his woman patients, and she was frankly irritated. He picked himself up from her desk, where he was sitting, and huffed out, offended. “Okay, don’t laugh,” he said. “The others thought it was funny.” Laura drove herself almost crazy with her errors that afternoon. When her phone rang she jumped half out of her chair. It was Jack. “Good afternoon, Mother,” he said. “I’m selling used tooth brushes. Interested?” “No. I’m very busy. Goodby.” “I’ll see you at eight.” “No.” “Eight-fifteen.” “No.” “Eight-thirty.” “All right! All right! All right! Goodby!” She slammed the receiver down and Sarah stared at her. * * * * * Laura decided to work late, and it was close to eight-thirty when she got up to go. The reports, though fewer, were still not done. At the elevator the boy said, “Nice evening.” “Is it?” She answered him apathetically, involved in her own world. “Yes, ma’am. It’s really spring tonight.” He smiled at her. He was right. The air was soft and gentle, lavender and clear. It even smelled good, right there in mid-Manhattan, although that was probably an hallucination. Laura smiled a little. She hated to go underground to the subway, but it was late, and she wanted to get home in a hurry. It would really be gorgeous out on the roof tonight. * * * * *