Chapter 3: What Remains

“Show me where that goes.”

He took the remaining mute. There was a pause while he found its pocket, then he slid it in far enough to hold it without burying the end. She nodded. They went through the other small things, her naming them and his fitting them into place. Once he chose the wrong pocket and she pointed to the right one. The correction was ordinary. She had to concentrate to keep it so.

When they finished, he brought the handles together but left the fastening open for her to check. Everything was there. She checked it anyway.

“Tuesday, then,” he said.

“After school. As we said.”

He stood and pushed the chair in. She went to her handbag on the counter.

“Wait.”

She found money in the inner compartment and separated out what she wanted. He was looking at the bag on the table when she turned back.

“For this afternoon.”

“I only came across the corridor.”

“You helped me prepare.”

“You were showing me.”

“That’s part of it.”

He looked at the money without reaching for it. She heard the edge in her last answer and straightened the notes, though they were already straight.

“I’d have paid you if we’d only packed the bag,” she said.

He lifted his eyes to her face.

She could not bear to leave the money extended between them. She laid it beside his hand on the table, where he could take it without touching her.

“Your time is still your time.”

“It doesn’t mean I can say something different.”

“I understood you.”

The words came out louder than she meant. He waited a moment, then picked up the money. He folded it and put it in his pocket.

At the kitchen door he turned back.

“Do you want the bag by the front door?”

“I’ll put it there.”

He nodded. She followed him through the short passage, and he let himself out. Across the corridor his own key sounded, followed by the door settling into its frame. She stood until the light went out beneath it, then returned to the kitchen.

The chair was not quite where it had been. She left it.

On the table the streak from his sleeve had dried to a pale smear. She wet a corner of the dishcloth and wiped it away. There was another mark beneath the bag, so she lifted the bag and cleaned that too. When she carried it to the front door, she held it close to her leg to keep the tools from shifting.