Chapter 72
Where she usedto work. The moment her father deposited enough funds into her old account for a bus ticket, she was quitting her job and coming home. If the account was still open. And if she could find the ATM card or a check to access the money.
It has to be open, she told herself, and I’ll get the money somehow. I need to get out of here.
* * * *
In the end, she didn’t even leave Bethany a note.
Dana toyed with the idea, really she did, but thought she should tell her friend in person she was leaving. She owed Bethany that much, didn’t she? The evening before she was scheduled to take the ten-thirty Greyhound bus south the next morning, she waited up late for Bethany to come home from work so they could talk things out. Well, maybe not everything, but at least she’d say goodbye.
Six o’clock came and went without any sign of her roommate. Okay, fine. Bethany usually ran late. Dana ordered in Chinese from down the street and waited for the delivery guy to ring the buzzer outside to let her know he was downstairs so she could go pay him. The Chinese food was top notch in Manhattan, and if nothing else, she knew she was going to miss it when she left.
At seven o’clock, she sat on the sofa alone, eating lo mein noodles and watching the patterns the setting sun threw against the ugly building outside her windows. She’d miss the Chinese food but notthe view. Back home there were trees and squirrels and silence, not the constant drone of city life. Engines revving, brakes squealing, people yelling, horns honking…even with the windows shut, Dana could still hear it all, day or night. When she got back home again, she’d probably think she had gone deaf or something, it’d be so damn quiet. She couldn’t wait.
Eight and nine o’clock both slipped by without her noticing. She’d turned on the television and spent some time flipping through the channels, dozens of cable networks that all somehow managed to have nothing on at same time. Finally she caught the tail end of Titanicon HBO—how they got HBO, she wasn’t sure, it was part of the package deal they’d gotten when they first signed up for cable service. Neither of them watched it, but the cable was in Bethany’s name so Dana couldn’t cancel the premium channels and Bethany couldn’t be bothered. Now Dana couldn’t, either.
So she watched the ship sink and got weepy-eyed at the end, then hated herself for crying all over again. How was she supposed to have an adult conversation with Bethany when a stupid movie brought her to tears?
But it looked like she wasn’t going to talk with Bethany, because it was going on ten now, and Bethany still wasn’t home. Dana dried her eyes and decided to call it a night. She had a long day ahead of her—even if she’d be spending it sitting on a bus, it was going to be rough and she wasn’t really looking forward to the journey. She just wanted to be home already. Maybe Dana could wake up early enough to catch Bethany before she left for work.
If not, oh well,she thought. I hate to leave things hanging between us, but it pretty much sums up perfectly where we are with each other right now, doesn’t it?
As it turned out, Dana didn’t get a chance to say anything to Bethany the next morning, even though she was up at seven. She hadn’t set an alarm; she just couldn’t sleep from the excitement of leaving. The bags she was taking with her were packed and ready just inside her bedroom door. Everything else she owned was boxed up and neatly stacked against the wall, her home address written on each box and a note on her dresser informing Bethany that she’d send a shipper to pick them up when she could.
At first she thought her roommate was still asleep. Dana used the bathroom, then stood outside Bethany’s door a long moment, hand raised, debating on whether or not to knock. In the end, she tried the knob and found it unlocked. As quietly as she could, she eased the door open and peered inside the room. “Bethy?” she whispered.
No response.
The room was dark, but from the scant light slanting in through the blinds, she could see the bed was still made, the room empty. Bethany hadn’t come home the night before.
Dana felt irrational anger surge through her. “Fucking bitch,” she muttered, shoving the door open wide. What the hell? Couldn’t Bethany have called? Where had she slept?
“You know what?” Dana announced to the empty apartment. “I don’t care. I hope she has a nice life, because I intend to.”
Less an hour later, she left the apartment behind and headed out to fight against the subway rush hour traffic one last time. She’d mail the key back when she felt like it.