She was approaching, still wearing her blackparty dress with its bodice torn, her face crumpled in sadness as she watchedthe sidewalk beneath her feet. Liddy, gaping, saw bruises on her cheek near herright eye…she was getting closer…and then - oh my God, it was really her - shehad her hair pulled back on one side and there was the Winnie the Pooh stud inher right ear. Liddy stood open-mouthed, her heart hammering. The girl passedher, practically brushed against her as she moved dully on.
“Sasha?” Liddy called. “Sasha Perry?” shecalled again, starting to follow.
The girl looked back, her features alarmedat hearing her name. She saw Liddy trailing her, limping a little, and she startedto run.
“Please,” Liddy begged, trying to move fasterbut she couldn’t run, that was painful. Her breath came in harsh gasps as sheforced herself anyway. Move, feets!
“Sasha, I want to help. I saw him hurt you…”
The girl was already across theintersection and heading west back on Prince. Liddy struggled to move faster; wassuddenly sweating as she crossed too, calling “I saw him hurt you,” duckinga car honking, calling out to people on the other side. “Please, stop thatgirl, I just want to help her!”
Some turned toward where she was pointing,then looked confused or indifferent. Another crazy. Liddy reached the sidewalk,peering frantically from their faces to where Sasha was…and suddenly wasn’t. Shewas gone, blended into the crowd before the building of the fighting couple.
Had she gone in or run past? No telling;there were people in the way. Sasha had disappeared, and Liddy, gasping forbreath, was getting looks.
“You okay?” one man cuddling his Yorkiestopped to ask her.
“Yes, thanks,” she managed between gasps, sweatingand hurting. How long since she’d moved even half that fast?
Breathing hard raised all kinds of alarm inhip, healthy Soho. The man and then a woman coming up behind him started suggestinggyms in the area, commenting on how important it was to stay in shape. Thewoman even asked would she like something to drink? A chair to sit in? Shestarted pulling a chair up from a near sidewalk café.
Liddy raised her hand no, they were tookind she told them, still panting as she stepped under an awning’s shadow. Nowthe man wanted to know why she was calling I saw him hurt you.
“Is someone in trouble?” he asked; and thewoman and then a second woman coming up started piping, “Call the police! Ifyou think someone’s in trouble call the cops!”
“If you think someone’s…”
Had they not seen a girl running –an eye catching, hair-flying blonde with a bruised face and torn party dress? Itwas hot; nobody ran in this heat. Nobody went tearing across a busyintersection with horns honking without being noticed.
Except me, Liddy realized, feeling her stomachdrop. They only saw me.
“I must have been mistaken,” she stammered.“Thanks again.”
She got funny looks as they left.
Confused and frightened, she stood staring atthe place where she’d last seen the fleeing Sasha…in front of the buildingacross from their loft.
Finally she turned, faced again theintersection of Prince and Mercer. She cringed, hearing herself calling outagain like a crazy woman.
The wild dash had left her leg throbbing,but she trudged, dreading the six blocks between there and the restaurant.
30
She got more funny lookswhen she arrived. “I know, I’m a sweaty mess,” she said, feeling light-headed asboth men rose – Paul with a questioning expression, Carl, his smile dazzlingand too jovial by a mile, introducing her to his new girlfriend, giggling Nickiin spaghetti straps and a deep, deep V-neck.
“You should have cabbed it,” Paul frowned,concerned.
“Six blocks?” Liddy sat and deep-breathedas Carl, who looked as if he’d already had a few, jokingly asked if she’d takenthe sweatshop route, and Nicki told her importantly that she was studying sweatshopsin the new global economy.
Liddy smiled. “I saw right away how seriousyou are.”
A waiter came. The others ordered new roundsof martinis. Liddy nixed alcohol because she still felt light-headed.
The place was air-conditioned, at least, anda tall, cold Coke helped to revive although the leg still hurt. The new martinisarrived, and they all got down to the serious business of socializing - whichLiddy loathed even when things weren’t terrible. Socializing means you have totalk, smile sweetly at the guy opposite you who last night your husband saidblamed you because the cops bothered him. But no sign of animosity now fromacross the table; she put on the face and beamed as Carl toasted their “newadventure in their great new apartment,” and there were smiles and pleasantriesall around. Carl’s current squeeze was right out of the cookie cutter: youngand pretty, a shiny bright undergrad who couldn’t keep her hands off him. He’dworn a blazer over one of his many pastel polo shirts, and her hand kept goingunder the blazer, patting his chest, his heart, his tummy after she fed him someantipasto in an endive leaf.
“Ooh, crunchy, isn’t it?” Nicki giggled.They were so into each other that Paul had the chance for an aside to Liddy.
He slugged his drink first, then leaned toher. “Why’d you look like you crawled through the desert when you got here?”
“It was hot.” She avoided his gaze.
“Not that hot.” She felt him grin. “You chaseone of your ghosts or something?”
It occurred in that moment that Paul was ajerk - maybe the word’s smartest dumb, insensitive jerk. Pity you can’t hauloff and smack someone in a nice, sedate place like this, so Liddy’s belly just clenchedas she studied her Coke.
“Lemme guess,” Paul pressed, feeling hisbooze. “I’ll bet you crossed to that building where you saw the fightingcouple. Tried to climb the fire escape or something.”
“Stop.”
“Or - you went looking for that girl,that’s it.”
“I said stop.”
She hissed it, but it still came out tooloud, interrupting Carl and Nicki who looked up from the menu they’d been cuddlinginto.
“Trouble in paradise?” Carl asked, raisinghis eyebrows.
“Yeah.” Paul’s lips curled slightly. “Liddy’sbeen seeing a ghost.”
“Ooh,” Nicki cooed. “I love ghost stories! CanI see the ghost too?”
“Maybe.” It came
