Page 31 of A Man After Midnight

Chapter Twelve

Caroline gazed out from her hotel window, staring blindly at the skyscrapers around. She sat curled up in the comfy chair, with a blanket wrapped around her. She had watched dawn give way to sunlight, and the bustle of the city come alive with tourists below.

She hadn’t showered. The feel of Wren still lingered on her skin. On her mouth. In her body. She knew she would have to clean up soon, but for a few moments longer she could pretend that it wasn’t Sunday, that her plane wasn’t scheduled to depart today to take her back to Louisiana.

But all things must end, and when Aldy started groaning from somewhere under her bedcovers, she knew the time had come.

She threw the blanket off and rose from the chair, walking over to find her friend in the tangled sheets.

“Morning!” she called.

“Oh God, shut the hell up,” Aldy moaned, her dark head finally emerging.

“I see,” said Caroline as she pulled some clothes from her suitcase. “Not feeling up to par, eh?”

“Stuff it, Grace,” Aldy growled.

Caroline only grinned. “The play is at ten.”

Aldy blinked and then crawled back under the covers. “Can’t make it.”

“What? You’ve already bought the ticket.”

No response.

Caroline knew better than to push her friend. “All right. I’ll go by myself. But you’re going to regret it.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, using everything to distract her from her thoughts. But the shower gave her a moment to release her tears, allowing them to fall and wash away. They were her secret. And when she was done, with the shower and the crying, she looked at herself in the mirror, at the carefully made up eyes and powder pressed face. She hoped like mad that no one could see the sadness lingering in the burning of her eyes.

She wet a wash cloth with cool water, rung it tight, and brought it to Aldy, who had managed to sit on the edge of the bed looking like a bedraggled animal who had one too many spins in a dryer.

Caroline held out the wash cloth.

“Thanks,” Aldy said as she took it.

“Come with me,” Caroline urged.

Aldy stared at her through eyes opened halfway, pressing the wet towel against her forehead. “I can’t. I’m sick.”

“No, you’re hung over. How much did you drink after I left the party last night?”

Her friend gave a dismissive wave, meaning she probably didn’t remember. She flopped backward onto her bed.

“All right,” Caroline conceded. “But you’re gonna miss a great play.”

“Take Wren,” Aldy said from under the pillow that she had pulled over her head.

Caroline bit her lips but didn’t respond to the suggestion. Instead she said, “Hey, I’m leaving my phone here to charge, but the volume is turned down so it won’t disturb you. The play ends about twelve, which gives us plenty of time to get to the airport.”

She heard more mumbling but ignored it, double-checking she had her ticket and key card before leaving.

****

“Excuse me, Miss,” said one of the theater ushers.

Caroline looked up from her Playbill and blinked at the smiling man. “Yes?”

“I’m afraid we’ve shown you to the wrong seat. If you come with me I’ll take you to the right one.”

---