Elaine; Ray Chute; and Pete Volinski from Rotary. And who was that waving to him? Oh, yeah, Burton Kelly from the electric company. It made Colin feel good to recognize so many people, as if he really belonged. Another reason he was feeling good was because Mark had finally apologized to him. Of course, the other thing he'd told him hadn't made him feel so hot. Still, the apology was welcome.
It had been a lousy week at the paper, with him and Mark only speaking when necessary. He'd written the story about the murders and he knew it was damn good. Mark hadn't said a word until this morning when he came into Colin's office.
'Good story you wrote, pal.'
'Thanks.'
'Really good. Gritty. You know what I mean?'
'I think so.'
'I got about thirty calls complaining about it.'
'I had twenty-six,' Colin said.
'Fifty-six calls, that has to mean it's a good story.'
They both laughed.
'Susan Harrison said she thought it was outrageous that we'd print such a graphic story because what if her four-year-old got hold of it? I asked her could her four-year-old read? She said no but what if he could?'
They laughed again, and as if it were a sign of forgiveness, Mark sat down.
'Hey, Colin,' he said soberly, 'this is nuts, you know. I mean the way we've been this week. I know these murders, writing the story, must've been tough for you. I'm really sorry.'
'It's okay.'
'No, don't. I was an asshole.' Mark ran both palms over his hair, front to back, then let his hands linger on his shoulders as though he were holding onto himself. 'I was in a shitty mood that day and, I don't know, I guess I just took it out on you.'
'I understand.'
'No, you don't, pal. I mean, we've known each other for what, eighteen, nineteen years?'
'Twenty.'
'Okay, twenty. That's a helluva long time. Longer than I've known my wife. Longer than I've known practically anybody who isn't a member of my family.'
'Okay, okay. So what's up? I know you're not just doing a riff here on the beauties of friendship.'
Mark's brown eyes deepened in color, as if sadness were changing their hue. 'No,' he said somberly, 'no, I'm not.'
'So what is it?'
'Oh, shit.' He pulled a crumpled pack of Camels from his shirt pocket and lit up. 'Last year I had an affair. Sarah found out. It was a mess. I stopped seeing Amy because I didn't want to lose Sarah. Amy called me right before you and the chief came up the other day. I hadn't had any contact with her for about six, seven months. I was off the wall because of it. The call, I mean. I took it out on you.'
'And Hallock.'
'And Hallock,' Mark confirmed.
Colin thought of Nancy. He'd never strayed, not even in fantasy. 'Why?' he asked.
'Why did I have the affair?'
'Yes.'
'Look, Colin, I love Sarah, I think you know that. But, well, when we first took over the paper it was fucking hard, know what I mean? We hardly had a pot to piss in. So there was all this stress and Amy was there and, shit, I don't know, it just happened.'
Colin thought, just happened, like the way he'd happened to leave his house that night, gotten drunk-lost his family. Just happened. 'How are things between you and Sarah now?'
'Tricky.'
'Are you going to see this woman again?'
'Amy? I don't know. If I do and Sarah finds out, that's going to be it. I don't want to lose my family.'
'So why risk it?'
Mark hissed out a stream of smoke. 'It's sex.'
'What about it?'
'Sarah's always been, well, reticent, sort of inhibited.'
'And Amy's not?'
'Right.'
Colin thought of his sex life with Nancy. They'd both enjoyed it, often trying new things, never letting more than a few days go by without making love.
'Have you talked to Sarah about it?'
'Not really.'
'What's not really mean?'
'I don't want to hurt her, Colin.'
'Seems like you already have.'
'Come on, pal, that's hitting below the belt.'
'I'm not saying anything you don't already know. What I'm getting at, Mark, is that you owe it to Sarah to try and work the problems out.'
'What if she can't do anything about them?'
'You can at least try.'
Mark stood up, signaling an end to the conversation. 'I just wanted you to know why I was such a shitheel the other day.'
'Thanks, I appreciate that.' Colin thought of telling Mark that he could talk to him any time but decided against it. He didn't want to know if he started seeing Amy again. He liked Sarah too much.
Before he left the room Mark said, 'The trouble is, I miss her.'
Remembering the look on Mark's face, Colin glanced across the parking lot and tried to see the Griffings. Mark had his arm across the back of Sarah's chair, fingers touching her shoulder. To the uninformed eye they looked like any happily married couple. But they did love each other, he reminded himself. He hoped Mark would resist temptation. It wasn't worth it-nothing could be worth losing your family.
The band finished a rendition of 'The Blue Danube' and he found himself clapping along with the others and desperately missing Nancy.
'Where's Mary Beth, Katie?'
'I thought she was with you.'
'You mean you let her come back here by herself?'
Katie's chin trembled. 'She said she'd come right back.'
'She's five years old, for God's sake,' Chuck snapped.
Sally said, 'Let's not get all steamed up, she's got to be here someplace. Where'd you leave her, honey?'
'Over there.' Katie pointed to a spot near the drive-in-teller road. 'I said, 'Now go right back over to Mommy and Daddy,' and she said she would.'
'Didn't you even watch?' Chuck asked.
Katie's face twisted into a grimace and tears filled her eyes. 'I started to, then… then…'
'Oh, never mind. C'mon, Sally, let's look for her.'
'Chuck, calm down, she couldn't have gone very far. She'd never leave the lot or cross a street or anything.'
'What's wrong with you, Sally? She's a five-year-old kid.' Chuck ran off in the direction Katie had pointed.
Katie was sobbing and Sally hugged her. 'It's okay, honey, we'll find her. Daddy's just strung out tonight. C'mon, we'll go the other way.' As they hurried off, Sally called her daughter's name.
But there was no answer.
It was intermission and Colin was standing with the Griffings when they heard the screams. It was a man's voice, and Colin thought something about it was familiar. And then he remembered that night in Chicago when he'd found his family. He'd screamed like that. Oh, Christ, he thought. Oh, sweet Jesus.
