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quiet that followed was unnerving.
    “Do you need a hug or something?” I asked
Brenda.
    A tear slid down her cheek and she nodded. I
crossed the room in three steps, held her as she clutched me, let
her tears soak into my shirt.
    “You didn’t go to the clinic with Rich this
morning.”
    She shook her head. “I didn’t feel well. My
stomach’s been upset lately.”
    “So Willie picked the one day you’re home
alone to come visit. Are you okay now?”
    She nodded. “I’m so glad you showed up. I was
so afraid.”
    “Come on, sit down.” I led her to the table.
“What happened?”
    “I heard the doorbell, opened the door, and
there he was. He barged right in.”
    “He wasn’t overtly threatening,” I said.
    “He never was in front of other people.
Believe me, under that quiet veneer lies a monster.”
    “Why did you ever marry him?” I blurted—a
stupid question.
    “I’m embarrassed to even remember.” She took
a cookie from the plate and nibbled at it. “My sister Ruthie was
his girlfriend.”
    “She was killed by a drunk driver,
right?”
    She nodded. “We were twins,” she reminded me,
and her eyes filled with tears. “A few months after the accident,
Willie and I started dating. At first, it was wonderful. He treated
me like a queen. It was a whirlwind courtship. I was still in
nursing school, but we got married anyway, for all the wrong—and
obvious—reasons. It didn’t take long for him to realize that I
wasn’t Ruth. He had loved her . And although we were twins, I
wasn’t her . Nothing I could do was ever right. It was like a
nightmare when he lost his job and I was supporting us.”
    “And your mother would still prefer you to be
with him?”
    “He’s the right color, if nothing else.” She
got up to pour herself more coffee, but the pot held only dregs.
“Do you want another cup?”
    “Sure.” I glanced at the clock on the wall;
it was almost lunchtime.
    “Richard said he’d come home at noon. Do you
want to stay?” she asked hopefully.
    She was giving off weird vibes—still afraid,
even though the object of her fear had departed. “Sure.”
    “Thanks,” she said, relieved, and busied
herself by getting a new filter for the pot and measuring the
coffee.
    “What did you guys talk about?” I asked.
    “ He talked—about the good old days.
About the church where we got married. He said he still has the
pictures. It gave me the creeps. I don’t want to remember those
times.”
    “How long was he here before I arrived?”
    “Maybe ten minutes.”
    “What do you think he wants?”
    “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
    The coffee was almost ready when Richard’s
car pulled up. He came in, saw me sitting at the table then glanced
over at Brenda, and took in her troubled face. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. Now,” she said.
    Richard looked at me as he took off his coat,
draping it on the back of a chair.
    “Brenda had a visitor,” I said.
    His wary gaze traveled back to her.
    “It was Willie. My mother gave him our
address.”
    “And you let him in the house?” Richard
yelled, quite uncharacteristically.
    “Hey. It’s cool. I was here.”
    “Right when he got here?” Richard
demanded.
    “No. Just after.”
    “No offense, Jeff, but from what I heard,
you’re just some little pipsqueak compared to this guy—he’s like a
linebacker. Right?”
    “I wasn’t in any danger,” Brenda said.
    “Oh, yeah? How many times did he hit you? How
many bones did he break?”
    I looked at Brenda, my stomach turning. She
stared at the floor, on the verge of tears. “Please don’t raise
your voice, Richard. You sound just like he used to.”
    “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . .” He moved to
stand beside her, put his arm around her, and spoke gently. “I get
so angry thinking about how he hurt you.”
    She looked up at him and Richard bent down to
kiss her. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
    She nodded. “Jeffy was great. He ran
interference for