Free Ghosts of Manhattan by Douglas Brunt Page A

of her life. I hear a thud from the other end of the table. Janice’s fist has hit the table top and her hands are now pressed against her ears.
    Conrad puts his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, babe.”
    She smacks his arm away. It isn’t just a leave-me-alone smack. It has real rage. “You’re a bastard! A sick bastard.”
    â€œWhat the hell?”
    There’s about thirty seconds of silence. This is pretty accurate because after a pause I actually start counting and get to twenty.Then Janice straightens up and composes herself and looks around the table as though she just arrived and is greeting us all for the first time. “Excuse me.”
    William, Jerry, and I all do a half stand, then sit back down. Like a gentleman, Conrad gets all the way up and helps her with her chair and she goes to the bathroom.
    Conrad sits back down and exhales a big breath. “She can get like that.”
    â€œI wonder why.” Julia looks at me wide-eyed and I realize I said this out loud.
    The silence is making everyone fidget and stare at their plates, so Julia tries to break it. “Jen, this is a great apartment. How long have you and William been here?”
    â€œAbout four months.”
    â€œYou’ve done a nice job with it.”
    â€œThanks.”
    Silence again.
    I look at William and give him a nod to get us out of this, which he understands. “Why don’t you all take your drinks into the living room while I clear the table and bring out coffee? Also, if you’re interested, the elevator can access the roof and there’s a great 360-degree view of the city.”
    Since the living room is also the dining room, I’m tempted to go to the roof but it’s too cold out and I’m sure it’s windy as hell up there. I stand and take Julia’s hand and we walk a couple steps to a sofa and sit down. Jen and William are clearing plates and Alison decides to make herself busy and helps. Jerry comes to join us and Conrad doesn’t move from his seat. He seems to be getting into the tired drunk phase, which is better for the rest of us.
    Jerry, Julia, and I have a decent conversation about benign things like the subway and tunnel congestion. It’s talk for the sakeof talk but we all rightly have the attitude that we just need to get through this.
    It’s probably twenty minutes before Janice is back. William turns on music and serves coffee and port. We might salvage a half-decent hour before the end of the night, but I need a break first and I excuse myself for the bathroom. I don’t need to use the toilet, I just want to kill a few minutes, so I wash my hands and splash my face. I’m drying with a hand towel when the door behind me bangs open and Jen steps in. She looks everywhere but at me and she looks determined. Still not looking at me, she steps to the shower and yanks. All the curtain rings screech to a bunch at one end. We both look into the empty shower, then finally at each other.
    It’s her apartment, but at the moment the bathroom feels like my territory. I dry the last of the water from my face. “What’s up?”
    She looks hesitant for the first time. “Where’s William?”
    This is not a question I expect. “He’s definitely not hiding in the shower while I go to the bathroom.”
    â€œI think someone brought cocaine here tonight.”
    I can neither confirm nor deny this, so I don’t say anything and I hang the hand towel back on the bar.
    She looks at me until she’s sure I’m not going to say anything, then walks out angrier than before. I close the door, reclaiming the bathroom for a moment of peace. I decide to take a seat on the toilet and count to sixty. I’d count more but I can’t abandon Julia that long. Before I’m halfway I hear Jen shouting from the living room. It’s time to find Julia and get out of here, so I open the door.
    William has his palms up like