Market Street by Anita Hughes Page B

looked up the girl’s face was close to hers and she was frowning.
    “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to faint. Maybe you’re getting the flu. It’s all this rain. I take tons of vitamin C, and vitamin D. Can I get you a glass of water?”
    Cassie opened her mouth but she couldn’t form any words. She grabbed her bag and ran out of the store. She stood at the car door, rifling through her purse for her keys. She turned the bag upside down on the wet cement, scattering lip gloss, credit cards, Kleenex, cell phone. She found her keys, swept everything in the bag, and climbed into the car. The rain drummed on the windshield and she half expected to see the girl’s face pressed against the glass, asking if she was okay. She laid her head on the steering wheel, closed her eyes, and started to cry.
    *   *   *
    Cassie stumbled into the house and shut the door. She wanted to run upstairs, turn on the shower, and dissolve into the steam. But she couldn’t get farther than the laundry room. She grabbed a towel from the top of the pile, pulled out the kitchen chair, and waited.
    Now it was almost dark outside. Her clothes were damp and there was a puddle of water on the kitchen floor. She checked her cell phone; it was past five o’clock. Aidan could be home any time.
    Her mother left a message and Alexis sent texts detailing her Neiman’s shopping adventure. “Found the most divine ruby earrings.” “Cashmere gloves on sale! Picked you up a pair.” “In the café, eating coq au vin.” Cassie read the texts, deleted them, and wrapped the towel tighter around her shoulders.
    Her head ached, her throat hurt, her forehead was on fire. She wanted to rest her head on the kitchen table, but every time she closed her eyes she saw Molly Payne in a lace bra and panties, offering Aidan a pumpkin muffin.
    Aidan walked in the back door and put his lunch box on the table. “Cassie, why are you sitting in the dark? You’re all wet.” He kissed the top of her head. “Christ, you’re burning up! You should be upstairs in bed.”
    Cassie opened her eyes wider and looked at him. He looked the same: hair damp and curly from the rain, wet splotches on his leather jacket, shaving nick on his chin.
    “Molly Payne,” Cassie said.
    “Who?” Aidan sat down at the table.
    “Your student, Molly Payne.” Cassie’s head felt so heavy it was an effort to talk.
    “What about her?”
    “I saw her at the co-op. I was going to make pizza tonight.”
    “You’re in no condition to cook. Go up to bed. I’ll bring tea and brandy.” Aidan stood up and turned on the stove.
    “How were her pumpkin muffins?”
    “Cassie, you’re not making sense. C’mon, I’ll take you upstairs.”
    It was when he touched her that she snapped. “Molly Payne made you pumpkin muffins”—she was almost yelling—“and she bought a red lace bra and panties to seduce you.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Aidan grabbed Cassie’s arm.
    “Let go of me.” She pulled away. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Where did you fuck her? On the sofa in your office?”
    “I’ll pour some brandy.”
    “I don’t want any brandy.” Cassie was shivering again. Her hands shook, her lips chattered, her knees knocked together.
    “I do.” Aidan took the brandy from the pantry and filled his glass.
    “Tell me what happened,” Cassie said, trying to keep her body still, “or I’m going to come to your class tomorrow and find out myself.”
    Aidan drank the brandy and refilled his glass. He looked at Cassie carefully. He took off his jacket, sat down, and clasped his hands together.
    “I’m not proud,” he said quietly, “but I’m human.”
    “Would you stop playing the ethics professor?” Cassie interrupted. “I don’t want to hear about Aristotle and human weakness. I want to know if you fucked Molly Payne.”
    The silence was broken by the rain beating against the glass. Cassie waited for Aidan to tell her it