When Linda came that afternoon the house was dark and appeared vacant. The kitchen counter was covered with white Chinese takeout boxes.
“Mr. Kier?”
Kier’s voice came from above. “In my room.”
Linda climbed the stairs. The bedroom light was off and the blinds drawn. Kier was lying on top of the covers looking at the ceiling. “Are you okay?”
“No one punched me out today, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I was. May I turn on the light?”
“Sure.”
She switched the light on. Kier shielded his eyes with his hand. “I left the papers you brought on the kitchen table,” he said. “They’re all signed.”
“Thanks. How did your meeting with Mrs. Wyss go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, she didn’t punch you.”
“I wish she had. It wouldn’t have hurt as much.”
Linda leaned back against the wall. “What did she do?”
“She forgave me. She forgave me for taking away her dreams, her life, and her faith in the human race. And she wasn’t trying to be spiteful. She meant it. Where do I go with that?”
Linda shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Two down and I’ve accomplished nothing.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “Sara called me. First time in . . . I don’t know how long. Forever. Do you know how I felt when I saw her name on my phone?”
Linda shook her head.
“I felt like I’d come home.”
“Why did she call?”
“She wanted to know why I haven’t signed the divorce papers. I told her I wasn’t sure I wanted to end our marriage.”
“What did she say to that?”
“She said it was over a long time ago.” He sighed.
Linda looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“Something good has to come from this, doesn’t it?”
“I hope so. Do you need anything?”
“No,” he said softly. “Thanks for coming by.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned to go. “Do you want the light off?”
“Please.”
She switched off the light. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Kier said. “There’s always tomorrow.”
