In Big Trouble

She saved Washington's view, the south, for last, then swiveled her head a hair to the right so she was actually facing southwest. Was there really some place called Texas past the Inner Harbor and its slick, shiny buildings? It seemed unfathomable. She felt like one of Columbus's contemporaries, trying to grasp the idea the world was round, like an orange. Assuming such a comparison had ever been made. If history had taught her anything, it was to distrust the history lessons of her childhood, with their neat little aphorisms that all seemed to be about stick-to-itiveness and moral fiber.

Still, the world looked pretty flat from here. It was all too easy to imagine falling over the edge if you strayed too far.

Chapter 2

Crow's photo from the newspaper stayed hidden in Tess's datebook for several days, slipped between two weeks in March. There was no significance to those dates, they just happened to be the place where his likeness remained, almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite. And because everywhere that Tess went, her datebook was sure to follow, Crow was always tucked into the crook of her arm, or riding papoose-style in her knapsack.

He was there when she found a man wanted for a paternity test in Baltimore. (She found him in paternity court in another county, giving a blood sample there. Everyone had his ruts and routines, it seemed, habits he just couldn't break.) He rested in her knapsack as she took photos of an intersection that figured in a complicated insurance claim. Crow went to her office, bounced on the backseat of her car, spent the nights on the old mission table where they had once eaten dinner together. Tess would wake in the mornings with a vague sense of anxiety and go to bed the same way, trying to isolate the thing that was bothering her. Then she would remember, and become angry all over again. It was unfair of him to try and manipulate her, to trick her into calling when he had left her. In Big Trouble. And so it went, around and around in her head, until Friday came and it was Girls Night Out.

The only 'out' in Girls' Night Out was take-out. After all, Laylah was far from restaurant-ready and Kitty proved so distracting to waiters and bus boys. They hovered close, their service so constant that it was impossible to maintain a conversation. This, in turn, infuriated Laylah's mother, Jackie-not because her own drop-dead gorgeous looks were slighted, but because she liked to speak without others eavesdropping. So the girls stayed in, with Tess bringing pizza from Al Pacino's and Kitty relying on Chinese or Japanese carryout. Jackie was the experimental one, arriving with Styrofoam boxes from whatever Baltimore restaurant struck her fancy. Tonight it was Charleston's, which had meant cornbread, she-crab soup, oysters fried in cornmeal, a rare steak for fish-averse Tess, and pureed vegetables for Laylah. At least everyone could share the dessert, a pecan pie that Kitty was now slicing.

Tess watched the knife sinking into the sweet pie and suddenly thought of Crow. The connection was probably worth analyzing-was it the nuts that reminded her of Crow, or was she still on that pie-sex jag? She could think about that later. Or, better yet, not think about it ever again.

'I forgot to show you this,' she said to Kitty, pulling the clip from her datebook.

'Crow! One of the best employees I've ever had here at Women and Children First,' Kitty said, focusing on Crow and ignoring the headline. 'For one thing, he actually liked to read, which seems to be less valued among bookstore clerks than the ability to make espresso. The haircut works. Don't you think he looks handsome, Tesser, now that he's gotten his face?'

'I suppose so,' she said, leaning over her aunt's shoulder, which smelled of apricots. Kitty's scent was always changing, and her fragrances were often sweet, overbearing things that would have been cloying on another woman, yet they always worked on her. Tess wondered if that was the secret to her eternal appeal. Although in her forties Kitty had her pick of men barely half her age. With her red hair and perfect skin, she reminded Tess of a line from John Irving. Something about a woman who not only had taken care of herself, but looked as if she had good reason to do so.

'‘In Big Trouble.' Aren't you the least bit curious?'

'Not really. It's some cut-and-paste job. He probably did it with a computer.'

'Then how did he get it on newsprint with a muffler ad on the back?' Kitty asked, holding it to the light, just as Tyner had.

'I don't know. I don't care.'

'She's lying. I can always tell when she's lying,' Jackie said from the kitchen floor, where she was crawling after Laylah, who was in dogged pursuit of Esskay around the big oak table. The baby squealed and grabbed her mid-section, as if to mount her for a quick race. Esskay galloped away, rolling her brown eyes at Tess. What have I done to deserve this?

'What does the dog say?' Jackie prompted. 'What does the doggie say?'

'Mooooooo,' Laylah replied, all dimples and eyes as she grabbed for Esskay's collar. Tess was sure that Laylah knew what the doggie said, but she was already carving out her own identity, preparing her perfect mother for life with someone determined not to be so careful and circumscribed.

'I get confused about your recent romantic history,' Jackie drawled. It was as if she had caught Tess taking Laylah's side in her mind. 'Is Crow the one who came after the one who was hit by the car but before the one who's now in prison?'

'Crow was a dream, the sort of good guy that women always claim they want,' Kitty answered for her. 'If Tess hadn't been so preoccupied with Jonathan, she might have seen that. But deep down, she was too busy mooning over him to see what a gem Crow was.'

Mourning, not mooning. 'How's life on Shakespeare Street?' Tess asked, hoping to change the subject. 'I mean, other than the free babysitting that you get by living a half-block from here, how do you like city life after the 'burbs?'

'Lot of folks keep asking me if I'm lost,' Jackie said, pulling Laylah into her lap. 'What they mean is, they wish I was lost.'

'Fells Point is still pretty white,' Kitty said sympathetically. 'But it could be worse. I heard a black woman over in Canton had her mailbox blown up the week she moved in.'

Jackie tried to wipe Laylah's face clean. Since arriving less than an hour ago, the baby had managed to shuck the pink shoes that matched her jumper and lose one sock. She was a mess, she was gorgeous, her face so full of joy that it was contagious. It made Tess smile just to see her.

'At least my Lexus is the right color,' Jackie muttered, but her features softened when Laylah patted her cheeks with baby hands, as if imitating her mother's futile motions with the washcloth.

'Who wants whipped cream on their pie?' Kitty asked. At last, something everyone could agree on.

'So what do you think?' Kitty asked Jackie as soon as Tess's mouth was full. 'Is Tess really interested in Crow, and pretending not to be? Or do you think she's in love with him, and being stubborn out of some misplaced pride?'

'I don't know if she was ever in love with him. I wasn't around then. But she's definitely not finished with him, you know what I mean? Sometimes a man is like, well, like this piece of pie when you're supposed to be on a diet. You stick your fork in it, you break it up, you move it around on your plate, you put all this work into not eating it. You're still obsessed with it.'

'Really?' Kitty was so taken by this analogy that she stopped in midbite. 'I've never felt that way about a man. Or a pie, for that matter.'

'Well, Aunt Kitty, you've never left so much as a crumb behind.' Tess had tired of being discussed in the third person. 'Although it's been what-almost an entire month since you've ‘dated' anyone?'

Kitty shrugged. 'Just not interested, I guess. As long as we're using food analogies, you could say I've got a bad case of Jordan almonds.'

'Huh?'

'I used to love Jordan almonds,' she said matter-of-factly, as if Tess should know this. 'I ate them every day. Then one day, I never wanted another one.'