Blind Eye by Jan Coffey Page B

her for her lack ofinterest in classes that provided practical skills. He’d really laughed at the fact that she lived in California but had never learned to swim. What was the purpose of living there, he’d asked, when you couldn’t go surfing? They’d also spent a good amount of time arguing over which fast-food restaurants had the shortest lines.
    She’d never known herself to have so many opinions. She hadn’t realized she could talk so much, or become so animated.
    She’d never been attracted so much to anyone so quickly.
    The pull she’d felt toward him had brought with it a wave of openness she rarely felt. She’d told him about her childhood, growing up in Deer Lodge, Montana. He’d told her stories of being raised near the Amish Country. Marion shared memories of her family, something that she never did.
    They’d both been actually sorry when the weather cleared enough for the airport to open again. They’d each left with the promise of calling the other at some point down the road.
    Why hadn’t it happened? she wondered.
    Marion lifted her head and looked at the faint ray of light left by the penlight. She realized that she was sitting. Her breathing was back to normal. The headache had eased somewhat. A bud of hope was forming in her. She pushed herself to her feet and pointed the light along the wall. A glass cabinet with an ax and a fire hose was a few feet down the corridor.
    She walked to it. The cabinet was locked. Without hesitating, Marion slammed the corner of the notebook into it. Shards of glass showered onto the floor. She reached inside for the ax, took it out and walked back to the maintenance closet.
    â€œMark, you’d be proud of me,” she said aloud into the silence before bringing the ax down like a hammer on the brushed nickel doorknob.

21
    York, Pennsylvania
    M ark generally went home to his apartment above the garage only to sleep. Today, he made an exception. He was anxious. He needed to be by a computer to check his e-mail.
    He pulled into the driveway and got out of his pickup. The air was fresh and crisp outside. A perfect fall day.
    â€œEverything okay, Mark?” Ryan asked.
    The husband and wife who were renting the main house were outside, raking the yard. From what Mark could see, Dora was pretty far along in her pregnancy, but nothing seemed to slow her down. He knew this was their first child and they were both very excited about it. Mark told his parents, anytime he talked to them on the phone, that the renters took as good care of the house and yard as they had when they were still living here. In fact, Ryan had mentioned a couple of times that if and when Mark’s parents decided to sell the house, they’d be interested, although right now they couldn’t afford it.
    The two were eyeing him curiously. They knew he rarely came home during the day. He waved them off.
    â€œEverything’s fine,” he told them. “I’m expectingsome e-mail, so I figured I’d come home and check on it.” Cable TV and Internet service were two amenities that he’d run out to his garage apartment as soon as he’d gotten home from Iraq.
    â€œWe’re having some friends in tonight. Why don’t you come over?” Dora asked.
    Mark figured these two had joined the “let’s feed Mark” team.
    â€œWe want to get all of our socializing with adults in before the baby comes,” Ryan added.
    â€œYou’ll probably know some of the people,” Dora said.
    â€œThanks, but…” He couldn’t think of an excuse. He appreciated the offer, but somehow the wires in his head were all twisted up. He couldn’t remember what he had planned for the day, or for tonight. There was only one thing that he could think of. That e-mail.
    Mark pointed to the garage and the stairs on the side. “I have some work to do now but I might poke my head in later. Please don’t wait