Luddie said quietly. Leigh felt a flush mounting in her face. All she’d mentioned was Waldo deserting her for four days, and the guard Waldo had hired that she couldn’t stand, and the hang ups and silences on her answering machine that were driving her crazy. She’d carefully skirted the drinking. How had he caught it? Was she talking too fast, too loud? Was there liquor on her breath? “Don’t you want to tell me about it?” he said. Her first wild impulse was to deny it, to scream, Three diet Pepsis with a teeny bit of Johnnie Walker is not going back. And anyway that was yesterday, I’ve only had one today. But the look on his face stopped her. She was prepared for anger, for judgment, and instead she saw sorrow and disappointment and concern. She couldn’t bear the way those eyes saw into her and heaped forgiveness on her. “Sometimes,” she said, “I wish you’d shout at me.” “Next thing you’d want me to beat you. Punishment’s what you’re doing to yourself.
