Read The Red Car for Free Online Page B

Diego said.
    â€œI could go to Calistoga,” I said.
    â€œWine country,” Diego laughed. “Mud baths.”
    I had gone to Calistoga, once, with Daniel. We rode there on his motorcycle, stayed in a bed-and-breakfast, swam in an outdoor Olympic-size pool filled with sulfur water from a natural spring. California, it seemed like a dream.
    â€œDo you know how Judy died?” I asked.
    â€œIt was a car accident,” Diego said. “Didn’t Beverly tell you?”
    â€œBut how? Can you tell me again? Because I don’t understand.”
    I remember sitting in that car, Judy driving me home once late at night, after we went to a movie, I remember feeling like there was something else in there, with us. I remember thinking that death was inside the car, hovering close by.
    â€œAnother car plowed right into her. Apparently it sailed through a red light. Completely not her fault.”
    â€œThat is so awful,” I said.
    â€œDone,” Diego said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI just booked your ticket. You fly back in two weeks.”
    â€œTwo weeks.” I didn’t know. Was that long enough? Too long? Two weeks in San Francisco. I was supposed to be unhappy, but the idea of it made me happy. “How much does it cost?”
    â€œNo worries.” Diego laughed again. I loved his laugh. It was so loose and sexy and easy, just like Diego. “The department is paying for it.”
    I could hear noises, splashing out the window, the TV in the living room, the buzzing in my brain.
    â€œWhat am I going to tell Hans?” I said.
    â€œHans?”
    â€œMy husband.”
    â€œYou tell him you are going to the funeral of a dear friend and then on a small vacation. I have no doubt you deserve one.”
    I was not entirely sure why, but I felt afraid. The idea of telling Hans. I did not want to tell him. I wondered if I could ask Diego to tell him for me. That was ridiculous.
    â€œYour flight leaves in four hours, Leah,” Diego said. “You have the money to take a cab to the airport, don’t you?”
    â€œOf course, I do,” I said, though actually I didn’t. I would have to run to the corner to a cash machine.
    â€œSo start packing.”
    â€œI can’t believe she is dead,” I said. “Judy.”
    â€œI know,” he said. “It doesn’t feel real. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
    â€œYou will?” I asked. “Really?”
    â€œI’ll see you tomorrow,” Diego said. “I got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    â€œCan I talk to Beverly?” I asked.
    â€œNah,” Diego said. “Beverly wandered off somewhere. She is probably at the water cooler, complaining about how much more work she has to do now that Judy is dead.”
    I laughed. That was probably exactly what she was doing.
    â€œI am sending you an email with the confirmation of your ticket,” he said. “Airline, flight number. I’ll see you soon.”
    I DIDN’T WANT TO TELL HANS that I was going to San Francisco without him. But now that the ticket was bought, I felt giddy. Giddy and a little bit confused. How could I be happy when Judy was dead? Judy had not wanted me to get married. And now, now that she was dead, I was leaving my husband. Only, I wasn’t leaving him. I was just taking a trip. That was all that I was doing.
    It was good that I was already in the bedroom, the door closed. I opened the closet door and took out a small suitcase, put it on the bed. I packed ten pairs of clean underwear. Socks. Jeans. I took off the jeans I was wearing and put them in the suitcase, too. I did not want to fly in jeans. I would wear leggings. Hans knocked on the door but came in without waiting for me to answer.
    â€œWhat is taking so long?” he asked.
    â€œGet out,” I said. “I am getting dressed.”
    Hans looked confused. “We are married,” he said.
    I didn’t like the way he