when I woke, the stiffness of the muscles in my back, arms, legs all told me what I already knew—that I had done more than I should have. Jack was gone. Gazing at the window ledge above me, I touched the wall beside me where I lay on the floor. Solid. Real. The shower attachment that would be fitted around the bathtub in the years to come had not appeared yet. I filled the tub, lowered myself into the steaming water, soaked in it, grateful for the luxury. I watched the steam drift up and out the window. Watched it disappear. I wandered down to the Woolworth’s on Winchester. Candy, postcards, toys, bars of soap, chewing gum. Gold-filled rings that a baby could wear sold for a dime. At the food counter I saw Jack sitting, talking to Teresa. I was several aisles away, unnoticed. I watched him touch her hand. I watched her let him leave his hand there. I watched her smile, saw the way she looked at him. I left before they saw me. I had seen what I had suspected that first time I had seen them together.
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