Vi Agra Falls by Mary Daheim Page B

not hostility. “We’re going to have to fight this dreadful condo project, you know.”
    Joe leaned forward on the sofa, head down, hands on his knees. “It sure as hell puts me on the spot.”
    Judith was taken aback. “What do you mean? Just because you were married to Herself shouldn’t enter into the picture. If she were anybody else, you’d be the first one to file a protest.”
    â€œBut she isn’t anybody else,” Joe murmured, staring at the glass-topped coffee table’s collection of glossy magazines.
    â€œThat’s it!” Judith cried, bracing herself to get her tired body off of the sofa. “I am going to bed! You check on Mother, you take care of the guests, you lock up, you apologize to them again for all this mess! I’ve had it!” She stomped out of the living room, taking the shorter route to the third floor via the front stairs.
    Joe didn’t try to stop her. In fact, he didn’t even bother to look up. He remained motionless, still staring with unseeing eyes at the cover of the latest House Beautiful magazine.
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    J udith couldn’t settle down after she got into bed. Maybe it was the change in routine, maybe it was the evening’s unsettling events, maybe it was the quarrel with Joe—whatever the cause, it was going on midnight when she finally drifted into a restless slumber.
    When she woke up, she thought it was because she heard Joe coming to bed. Still annoyed, Judith rolled over as far as she could to avoid any attempted gesture of affection. But after a couple of moments, she realized that the sound was caused not by her husband getting into bed, but by him getting out of it. He was moving hurriedly around the bedroom. Judith opened her eyes as she heard him go out into the hall. Glancing at the digital clock, she saw that it read 2:47 a.m.
    Propping herself up in bed, she listened for any sound of a commotion. The two bedroom windows facing the Rankerses were open. The fans that Joe had put in whirred softly, muffling any but the loudest of noises coming from outside. She turned them off and peered through the window on Joe’s side of the bed. Carl and Arlene’s house was dark. After a moment or two, Judith heard voices. One of them belonged to Joe, though she couldn’t make out what he was saying. The other belonged to a woman who sounded distraught. Not Mother, she thought, as anxiety replaced anger. Not Arlene, either, she decided, or the lights would be on at their house.
    She turned on the bedside lamp, put on her lightweight summer robe, and slid her feet into a pair of sturdy slippers. Heading down the narrow stairway to the guest rooms, she noted that everything seemed quiet. When she reached the bottom of the back stairs, Judith noticed that the hallway and porch lights were on. The back door was wide open. Opening the screen door, she saw two figures on the sidewalk just off the porch.
    Joe had his arms around Vivian. At first, Judith thought they were embracing, and her ire returned. Then, as she moved to the steps, she realized that Joe was holding on to Herself to keep her from falling. He turned slightly when he heard the screen door close behind Judith.
    â€œCall nine-one-one,” he said, keeping his voice down. “Get some brandy. I think Vivian fainted.” With a grunt, Joe picked up his former wife and started for the porch steps.
    Rattled, Judith stood aside as her husband and his burden squeezed through the narrow corridor. “Shall I ask for a medic?” she called after Joe.
    â€œYes,” he answered, using his elbow to open the swinging half-door between the kitchen and dining room. “Call the cops, too.”
    Judith snatched up the phone from the counter and dialed 911. The answer was prompt. “We have a neighbor at our house,” she said, giving the address, “who’s collapsed. She needs medical attention.”
    As the emergency operator