The Face They Would Forgive

Luke drove Claire back to the apartment.

The drive was not silent. That would have been easier to interpret. He told her about the pollster. She told him the pollster was probably overreading inbound response. He said probably. She said Maya should move the county-chair thank-yous before ten tomorrow. He said Denise already had. Claire said good. Luke said yes.

No jokes crossed the bridge this time.

At the apartment, he unlocked the door and stepped back to let her enter first.

She did.

The lamp was on because they had left it on that morning. The tea mugs from last night were gone from the crate table; Luke must have washed them while she was in the bedroom changing. The blank folder still sat where they had left it, closed.

Claire took off her shoes.

Luke hung up his coat.

Neither of them asked whether she was sleeping in his bed.

The absence of the question made the answer larger.

“I’m going to look through tomorrow’s press prep,” she said.

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to stay up.”

“I have work too.”

“Yes.”

She stood near the table. He stood near the kitchen. The apartment held them like two separate arguments.

Then his phone buzzed.

Luke read the screen. His expression changed first into focus, then confusion.

“What?” Claire asked.

He hesitated. That was new too.

Finally he said, “Maya sent a photo from the union hall. Ruth and Elaine.”

Claire waited.

Luke turned the phone toward her.

The photo was good. Too good. Elaine at the union hall table beside Ruth, both women turned toward Denise, who had one hand lifted mid-sentence and a look on her face that suggested she was explaining common sense to the entire medical-industrial complex. Maya had probably taken it from across the room. The light was bad, but the composition worked because nobody in it was trying to look historic.

In the back of the frame, near the open double doors, a woman stood half-turned toward the room.

Camel coat. Dark hair cut sharp at the jaw. No lanyard, no coffee, no campaign fleece, no reason to be there by accident.

Claire knew her before she zoomed in.

Vivian Shaw was looking straight at Elaine.

No.

Claire enlarged the photo with two fingers.

Vivian was looking past Elaine.

At Claire’s empty chair.