I could still smell smoke.

Staring out the window toward Watts, I tried not to think about what could’ve happened if I’d still been in the area that day.

The library had been damaged. So many people had been hurt.

I could’ve been one of them. The baby…

My mind kept gravitating toward it, and each time, it pulled back.

I couldn’t think about any of this just now, yet I couldn’t stop. That awful revulsion/attraction carousel a woman can find herself on, like staring at a speeding train, knowing the wreck is going to be awful, but unable to look away.

Finally, knowing I couldn’t keep standing there, I dragged myself back to the table where the newspaper was spread open before me.

The classifieds had become the bulk of my daily reading. I didn’t have many books now. I’d been looking forward to the library job for that, if nothing else, and now even that avenue of escape was gone. Whatever job I found had to be close. I didn’t have a car, and although there was a public transportation system, I didn’t want to spend too many hours a day riding the bus.

Earlier, I’d gotten roughly halfway down the third column and I picked up my pen, drawing my notepad closer so I could make notes as I read.

I had two possibilities down. One was a job for a secretary at a vet. The other was working at a lawyer’s office. I was probably being hopeful, but maybe I’d luck out. They required excellent typing skills, and I had those, although life without autocorrect wasn’t going to be fun.

At the end of the column, the phone rang. I eyed it for a long moment before picking it up.

“Hello?”

Almost immediately, I wished I’d ignored it.

“It’s Glenn.”

Covering my eyes with my hand, I said, “I told you it was best we stop talking, Glenn.”

“It’s not personal,” he said, voice gruff. “Astor couldn’t remember your number. He asked me to call. It’s…it’s about Florence. She was in a wreck, Maya.”

My heart stopped beating.

For what felt like an eternity, I sat there frozen and unable to move. Unable to breathe.

“What?”

A cynical laugh escaped him. “What, future girl doesn’t know this already?”

My temper snapped. Shoving back from the chair, I tightened my hand around the phone and shouted into it, “You son of a bitch! She’s the only person who’s been decent to me the entire time I’ve been here! If you called to jerk me around, then just stop it. Otherwise, talk to me.”

Taut seconds ticked away. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Look, I know you’re friends. That’s why I told him I’d call. I’m on my way over to the hospital. I’ll come by and pick you up.”

“No. Just tell me where she is. I’ll find my own way.” Smoothing a hand down my skirt, I eyed the clock and tried to remember how much money I had on me. I wasn’t used to keeping track of cash, even now. But there were no banks open, and it wasn’t like ATMs dotted every corner in 1965.

“Don’t be stubborn, Maya. I can be there and pick you up in less time than you can figure out which busses you’ll need. Be ready in a half hour.”

He hung up.

I eyed the phone and considered calling him back to tell him to fuck off.

Then I decided Florence was more important than my pride.

* * *

“Do you know what happened?”

Glenn’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles pressed white against his skin. After a moment, they relaxed and he shot me a look. “No. Astor was too upset to say much.”

“Of course.” Twisting my hands in my lap, I stared out the window. Palm trees swayed in the air, but the heavy smog made the sky look dingy and gray. Closing my eyes, I told myself not to worry. She’d live another fifty years. She was going to be fine.

But it wasn’t just Florence that had me on edge.

Glenn kept shooting me looks. From time to time, his right hand would relax, and I’d seen him go to pull it off the wheel like he was going to touch me.

Then he’d stop and adjust his grip the steering wheel all over again.

Sitting in the car next to him was madness.

Not be able to touch him was hell.

I wanted to lean into him and hold tight, assure us both that everything was going to be fine.

But nothing was fine.

Closing my eyes, I focused on my breathing and tried to meditate like one of my college instructors had taught. She’d been big into yoga and the whole spiritual thing, spending a few minutes each day extolling the virtues of it, then before a big test, she’d give us five minutes to decompress.

I’d thought it was hokey then.

Now…?

I wished I’d paid more attention to what she’d been dealing us. Trying to feel the air moving in and out of my lungs was about as easy as trying to feel the surface of the moon.

“We’re here.” The car came to a rough stop and I opened my eyes, feeling a little off-kilter. Looking around, I saw cars surrounding us and shook my head to clear it.

Glenn met me at the back of the car and looked me up and down. “You don’t look like you’ve slept.”

Vanity stung, I fought the urge to fuss with my hair and clothes. Instead, I shrugged it off and cut around him. “I’m pregnant. It goes with the territory.”

“Are you…” He stopped, hesitating. After a moment, he fell into step next to me and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” And I wasn’t talking about this with him. “Come on. Let’s go see Florence.”