Free A Measure of Blood by Kathleen George Page A

Toyota.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œCorolla.”
    â€œYou saw the exact car, the man’s car?”
    â€œNo, one like it.”
    â€œWhat clued you in?”
    â€œLike the shapes. The way the lights go.”
    Corolla.
    MATT LOOKS OUT THE WINDOWS of the detective’s car from the backseat where he is riding with Oopale sitting next to him. She told him she took a day off work, a sick day. Nothing is normal today. People are quiet when they talk into their phones and he’s not supposed to hear.
    He told everything about not pumping her chest, and they didn’t say he was to blame. He only shook her because he thought she might move, but she didn’t. She shouldn’t have let herself die. She should have fought it. He would have. He won’t ever let himself die.
    Today, later, he gets to see Jade for a play date.
    The police are taking him to some place where they match up parents and children. But he doesn’t want any of that. Jade or Grady, that would be okay.
    Last night he thought she moved, but she didn’t. They said she didn’t.
    Everybody lies. Grown-ups lie. Maybe the man was his father even if his mother said he wasn’t.
    â€œWhat do you think you’ll do with Jade later today?” the woman detective asks him.
    â€œWii. Watch a movie. Play Grand Theft Auto .”
    â€œYou like video games, right?”
    â€œI’m good at them.”
    â€œYou must have quick eyes.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œHe amazes me,” Oopale says.
    Quick eyes. Quick ears. “I remembered something else. When my mother yelled at the man in the parking lot, she used a name.” The car pulls over to the curb and both detectives turn around to face the backseat. “It was something like Dol. Or Dal.”
    â€œDol or Dal. Anything more?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhat did she say exactly?”
    â€œSomething like, ‘What are you doing here, Dal?’ and he said, ‘I live here now.’ ”
    â€œDal?”
    â€œI think. Something like that.”
    WHEN HE FIRST MET HER, it was at a coffee shop and they only gave first names. She was pretty. Older than he was, and that threw him for a while, but mostly she was pretty. She said, “I can’t date you. You’re too young.” He told her he was old in his soul.
    Maggie smiled at him and told him she was a bit late in the game but that she wanted a family, at least one child.
    He said, “I want that, too. I do.”
    She laughed. “Don’t even think it.”
    He said, “We could go to Puerto Rico where I come from. Now that’s a place to raise a kid. Kids are happy there.”
    â€œIt’s poor there.”
    â€œYou don’t need much there. It’s poor but kids are happy.”
    â€œNo, you’re … too young.”
    â€œLet’s go to a movie. Let’s go get a hamburger.”
    â€œNo foie gras with you.”
    â€œWhat’s that? Food. Yeah, I heard of it. You’re making fun of me because I said about living in Puerto Rico.”
    She looked dashed. “No, that’s not true. We don’t even know each other.”
    â€œWell, you could give me a chance. We could do something.”
    â€œOkay. A movie. A movie won’t hurt anything.”
    They met the next time at a movie theatre. He didn’t have a car. And didn’t want her to know he had hitchhiked three hours to see her. He didn’t have anything, hardly a penny, and she wanted that foie gras kind of life. He reached for her hand in the movie. She wouldn’t hold hands at first and then she did. She had beautiful eyes and full curly hair. There was a little bit of gray coming into it, but he didn’t care. She was very American.
    â€œI’m so messed up,” she said when they left the movie theatre, walking. “I got old without noticing. And I still want a baby.”
    He didn’t understand why she didn’t have