She took a very deep breath, let it out, and stared down the street. Then she nodded, raised up on her toes, and kissed me. “Thank you.”
The front door opened and Janet Simon appeared in the light. We didn’t move toward her and she didn’t move out toward us.
“There’s more to bring away from this than firing a pistol,” I said.
“I know.”
“You’re different now.”
She looked at Janet Simon. “They’ll have to get used to that, won’t they?”
I helped her lift Perry out. His face was puffy and pale and he clung to her even in sleep. She said, “Would you like to come in?”
I shook my head. “Not if you don’t need me. If you need me, I’ll stay. If you don’t, I’ll go sit with Joe.”
She smiled and told me she’d come see Joe tomorrow, then she kissed my cheek once more and walked up to the house. Janet Simon stepped aside to let them in, then shut the door.
Perhaps Janet hadn’t seen me.
I stood there, breathing deep, and looked at Pike’s Jeep. Even in the dark, I could see it was a mess, muddy and streaked and dusty. I found a self-wash on Ventura Boulevard that was still open, and worked there until the Cherokee sparkled. Then I rolled down the windows and drove slowly in the cool fresh air, drove back to the hospital to wait for Joe Pike.