Nighttime Is My Time: A Novel Read Free Page A

different way
    Laura had always been the prettiest girl in the class—golden blond, china blue eyes, great body, noticeable even in the Stonecroft skirt and blouse. She was always sure of her power over the guys. The words "come hither" had been meant for her to utter.
    Alison had always been mean. As a writer for the school paper, her "Behind the Scenes" column was supposed to be about school activities, but she always managed to find a way to take a dig at someone, like in a review for the school play when she'd written, "To everyone's surprise, Romeo, a.k.a. Joel Nieman, managed to remember most of his lines." Back then the popular kids thought Alison was a riot. The nerds stayed away from her.
    Nerds like me, he thought, savoring the memory of the look of terror on Alison's face when she saw him coming toward her from the pool house.
    Jean had been popular, but she hadn't seemed like the other girls. She'd been elected to the student council, where she'd been so quiet you'd think she couldn't talk, but anytime she opened her mouth, whether there or in class, she always had the right answer. Even then she'd been a history buff. What surprised him was how much prettier she was now. Her stringy light brown hair was darker and fuller, and cut like a cap around her face. She was slim, but not painfully thin anymore. Somewhere along the way she'd also learned how to dress. Her jacket and slacks were well cut. Wishing he could see the expression on her face, he watched as she shoved a fax into her shoulder bag.
    "I
am the owl, and I live in a tree
."
    In his head he could hear Laura imitating him. "She has you down pat," Alison had screeched that night twenty years ago. "And she told us you wet your pants, too."
    He could imagine them all making fun of him; he could hear their shrill gales of mocking laughter.
    It had happened way back in the second grade when he was seven years old. He'd been in the school play. That was his line, the only thing he had to say. But he couldn't get it out. He'd stuttered so much that all the kids on stage and even some of the parents began to snicker.
    "I ammm th-th-the oooooowwwwwlllll, and, and I livwwe in aaaaaa…"
    He never did get the word "tree" out. That was when he burst out crying and ran off the stage holding the tree branch in his hand. His father had slapped him for being a sissy. His mother had said, "Leave him alone. He's a dopey kid. What can you expect? Look at him. He's wet his pants again."
    The memory of that shame mingled with the imagined laughter of the girls and swirled in his head as he watched Jean Sheridan get into the elevator. Why should I spare you? he thought. Maybe Laura first, then you. Then you can all have a good laugh at me, all of you together, in hell.
    He heard his name being called and turned his head. Dick Gormley, the big baseball hero of their class, was standing beside him in the bar, staring at his ID. "Great to see you," Dick said heartily.
    You're lying, he thought, and it's
not
great to see you.
    4
    Laura had barely put her key in the door of the room when the bellman appeared with her luggage: a garment bag, two large suitcases, and an overnight satchel. She could sense what the man was thinking:
Lady, the reunion lasts for forty-eight hours, not two weeks
.
    What he said was "Ms. Wilcox, my wife and I used to watch
Henderson County
every Tuesday night. We thought you were great in it. Any chance it will be coming back?"
    Not the chance of a snowball in hell, Laura thought, but the man's obvious sincerity gave her a much-needed lift. "Not
Henderson County
, but I've done a pilot for Maximum Channel," she said. "It's scheduled to go on the air after the first of the year."
    Not the truth, but close to the truth. Maximum had okayed the pilot and announced it was optioning the series. Then two days before she died, Alison had phoned. "Laura, honey, I don't know how to tell you this, but there's a problem. Maximum wants someone younger to play