His tremors eased considerably as he started into his fourth drink and he began to feel more at ease. He hadn’t wanted to enter the bar with her and had tried to convince her to just buy him a couple bottles and leave him alone, but she’d insisted. Street people who looked and smelled like him didn’t enjoy warm welcomes in business establishments and it had been no exception when they’d slipped in and took a small table by the front window. Several patrons made their disapproval known with hostile glances and whispered remarks.
“Thanks for the drinks,” he said, watching her sip coffee.
She didn’t say anything for a moment and just looked into his eyes. He awkwardly shifted his weight and looked down into his glass. “It’s the least I could do. Back there, I thought I was—“ Her voice choked off as she forced down a surge of emotion. She swallowed and quietly said, “You looked like you needed it.”
He felt ashamed and wanted to be alone, but he wanted another vodka even more. “How did you know that?” He asked.
“I saw your hands shaking. You were sweating despite the chill.”
He was grateful she didn’t include the fact that he reeked of booze.
She continued, “My father was an alcoholic so I’m all too familiar with the symptoms of detox.” She caught the attention of the waitress and ordered another double. He gulped down the last of the one he clutched.
“Who was that guy?” he asked.
She hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. “My ex-husband. Apparently his obituary had a few facts wrong. Like that he's dead. I’d been running from him for a long time. About a year ago I heard he’d died and looked up the obituary to be certain. I settled here and have started to come out of hiding.”
“Which is how he found you.”
“Yeah. I almost wish you’d killed the bastard. He’ll never give up trying to find me.”
The waitress set a drink down with a smile and bounced away to another table. He drank half of it in a few swallows. “Why don’t you go to the cops?”
“I can’t.” She didn’t elaborate and shifted the conversation. “So how did you happen to be in just the right place to save my skin? I didn’t see you in the alley.”
“I was there. You looked my way when you were searching for that door, but didn’t notice me.”
She seemed to accept that. “So what’s your story? You’re too sharp to have been out on the street long.”
He thought about what to tell her and decided to try the truth for a change.
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