Free Requiem for Moses by William X. Kienzle

her. She was, of course, aware there was a problem. She had no idea what the cause was; she only hoped that somehow Moe would solve it. She had abiding faith in him.
    “Claire,” Green said as he pulled on his shorts, “I think it’s time we went our separate ways.”
    “Wh-what?” Her heart began to pound.
    “A relationship like ours doesn’t last a lifetime. It’s time we recognized that and moved on.”
    “But … but you’re going to divorce your wife. When … when it’s time. That’s what you said. I know we’re having problems … but we can work them out. I know we can. Maybe it’s something I’m doing wrong. We can talk about it. It’ll get better, you’ll see. I can be a perfect wife. Please, Moe, let’s talk.”
    “Talk time is over. You’re a good kid. But you have to take a more realistic approach to life. For one, you’re never gonna be a dancer. I’ve had to pay your teacher over scale just to keep you as a student. Haven’t you noticed that Jake hasn’t moved you up in the chorus line?”
    Ignoring the hurt and vulnerability on her face, indeed in every line of her body, he swept on. “As for sex, ours is deteriorating. Even you admit that. Take it from me, you gotta read the signs of the times. And, with us, the signs all point to the end of the game. It’s over. What we gotta do now is bury it. Let’s do this like civilized people, without making an unseemly fuss. Whad’ya say?”
    “Moe, I don’t have to be a dancer—not if I’m your wife!”
    “My wife! That’ll be the day! Margie’s a shark when she has to be. She wouldn’t give me a divorce unless she walked away with everything. And I’m kinda used to everything.”
    “But you said …”
    “I say lots of things. Some I mean and some I’m not so sure.”
    “Moe, what’s going to happen to me?” She pulled the sheet higher about her neck. It was as if she were nude in this room with a stranger. The rare glimpses she’d gotten of Moe’s ruthless side had been quickly glossed over. Now she could see the truth. This Moe Green who was discarding her like a card in a poker game was the real Moe Green, the genuine lowdown article.
    Nothing she could do or say would prolong their relationship. It was now a matter of salvaging whatever she could. “Moe, what’s going to happen to me?” she repeated.
    “Frankly, my dear, I don’t know.” He really didn’t give a damn, but he didn’t want to push her over the edge into anger. At the moment she was defensive. That was the state of mind he wanted to deal with.
    “You can stay here,” he said, “for a little while. But there’s got to be a time limit on this arrangement—say, a month, two at the outside. You can find a job. Look around. I’ll even help you if I can. But”—his voice was harsh—“not dancing. Nobody can help you there.”
    Now fully dressed, he paused in the doorway. “Have a nice life, Claire. But first, get one.” And he was gone.
    In just a little more than two weeks her newly found lifestyle had not only crumbled, it had virtually evaporated.
    It had all begun when she’d told Green of her missed period. What if she had gone to another doctor? She could have had the operation and he would have been in the dark, none the wiser.
    What if? What if? What if?
    It was over.
    She was alone.
    Tears flowed. Sobs racked her. She wished fervently that she had never met Dr. Moses Green.
    THE PRESENT
    Father Koesler was impressed. Of all the people he’d met in his entire life, surely no one appeared to be as amoral as Dr. Moses Green.
    Still, Koesler did not second-guess himself on granting this wake. If deceased people needed a consensus to be granted a religious funeral, he wondered how many would qualify.
    “Well, what did you do then?”
    “First of all,” Claire said, “I made up my mind I wasn’t going to be beholden to him for anything. I cleared out of the apartment the next day. I had saved up some money. So I got a decent place