“Can’t.”
At the nearest pharmacy Mona procured mifepristone for Ellen and herself. After she passed out she had no idea how far Eddie’d gone. Though her privates were the only part of her that didn’t hurt, she wasn’t taking chances. Ellen might change her mind, but Mona didn’t want even the remotest possibility of bearing Eddie’s offspring. Alan, noting Mona’s pharmaceutical choice, kept mum. They stepped back into the daylight and walked home in silence.
With the sky whitening under the season’s first snowfall, Alan turned away from the window. Though the horde was still plentiful, their numbers were perceptibly thinning. Ellen might be right after all. Maybe it was only a matter of time. Alan sat back down at the table and contemplated his next move. Buying hotels was always risky.
“Dude,” Mona said, agitating the tiny top hat.
Alan looked at her. She, too, had changed a bit in the months since “The Karl and Eddie Incident.” She’d likely never be Miss Personality, but she’d come a long way since her debut. She managed a smile now and again and her sentences, though short, were mostly actual sentences. Ellen absently rubbed her distended belly, feeling movement within-little Alan or Michael junior. Alan hoped the latter, but only time would tell. Maybe it would be a girl. With Dave gone from a grief-inspired suicide-his evicted husk still lingered outside staring up at the building-it was down to Alan, Dabney, and the two women. Cozy. Dabney, who’d abandoned his rooftop shack in favor of more conventional digs, had lightened up on the boozing, though he still enjoyed a dram on occasion. He entered the living room opening a jar of salsa. The chips were already on the table.
He took his seat and dipped a chip.
Bob Fingerman
