Free Snow Angels by Stewart O’Nan Page B

“I’ll go. If I’m off.”
    â€œGreat,” he says, “okay,” and stands there with the tray, dizzied by his luck. He remembers he’s supposed to throw the garbage away and locates a can, fits the tray into a stack on top. When he comes back to the table she’s pushing her arms through her sleeves, getting ready to leave.
    â€œHere,” she says, and gives him three ones.
    â€œThe whole thing only cost two-fifty.”
    â€œYou can pay for the movie,” she says.
    He holds the door for her, looks back into the Burger Hut to see if the crowd is still watching. In a booth opposite he recognizes Don Parkinson’s kid. Glenn can’t remember his name. He waves. The kid looks straight through him, turns his face away and digs into his burger.
    It puzzles Glenn but it’s not going to ruin his mood. He catches up with Annie at the Maverick. He doesn’t screw things up by pressing for a kiss, just thanks her for coming, says she didn’t need to pay.
    â€œWhat are we seeing on Thursday?” Annie asks.
    â€œAnything you want.”
    â€œYou pick,” she says. “Those are my conditions. And please, wear jeans.”
    In his father’s car Glenn goes over the date—her anger, the vanilla shake, how she said yes while he was holding the tray—follows it beginning to end between exits until he knows it like a favorite song.
    Sunday they see each other when Glenn picks up Tara. He brings a huge stuffed bunny Annie thinks is too expensive, meaning she can’t afford it. When they first separated, Glenn sent her a check every month, but during his problems he stopped. Unbeknownst to him,his father offered her money, which she indignantly refused. She’s a month behind on the rent; luckily the Petersons—her landlords, since they convinced old Mrs. Peterson to leave—are in Florida. She can stall them indefinitely, but Christmas will be coming up before long. A month and a half, and Annie hasn’t started shopping. Saturday mornings Tara sits on the couch eating dry cereal and after every talking doll and remote-controlled car commercial points and announces, “I want that.”
    Tara won’t let go of the rabbit. “Bun-bun,” she croons to it, and how can Annie take it away? Besides, everything’s been going so well. She doesn’t want to fight anyone right now. She remembers her father on Easter helping her fill her basket in the backyard. He carried her on his shoulders and outraced her brothers to the next egg. The gift’s not malicious, Annie thinks now: Glenn’s a father and Tara’s his daughter. Yet it’s still annoying. She recognizes his helplessness but doesn’t understand it. A mother, she can’t imagine being so in love that she’d be unable to say no to someone.
    When Glenn asks, Annie says yes, she’s free Thursday. She can see he’s excited, almost as happy as her mother was. “Oh honey,” her mother said, hugging her, “that’s so good,” and Annie had to calm her down. Annie’s not sure if she should be excited herself,if this is a step in the right direction. She thinks how bad last winter was, this spring; she still hasn’t fully recovered. But she does need help with Tara, and the money would come in handy. He’s good around the house.
    It’s too cold for the lake, Glenn says. He’s thinking about the new Aquazoo in Pittsburgh and wonders if Tara is too young. Annie wishes he would stop calling on her to make his decisions, but says sure, she’ll get a kick out of it. She waits until they’re gone a good fifteen minutes before taking a shower and changing into something Brock hasn’t seen.
    She takes the back way through Renfrew and gets to Susan’s early, before Brock. The lot is half-full; the Steelers are playing the Raiders late. Annie doesn’t want to go into the office. The reservation is