Seventh Heaven by Alice; Hoffman Page A

“I see what you mean,” she said tentatively.
    â€œI mean, they have to make their own friendships. You’ve got to let it happen naturally.”
    He swore that Billy was getting visibly more solid. The boy came to stand beside his mother, and although he didn’t look up, he was obviously listening to every word.
    â€œGood point,” Nora said.
    She waited for Hennessy, and as they walked out together Hennessy refused to look at Wineman and Romero. He held the door for Nora, and when they went out to the parking lot they discovered they had parked right next to each other.
    â€œWhat a coincidence!” Nora said. She put James into the car, then went to open the trunk in the front of the Volkswagen.
    â€œGod, I hate this car,” Nora said.
    Billy was still holding the mop; he looked even paler in broad daylight.
    â€œYou ever kill anyone?” Billy asked Hennessy.
    Hennessy looked down at the boy; the top of his head was knotted with clumps of unruly hair.
    â€œI’m not usually tracking down murderers,” Hennessy said.
    â€œYeah,” Billy said. He swung the mop back and forth. “So. Did you ever kill anyone?”
    â€œIn the war,” Hennessy said. “In France.”
    â€œStevie says you kill someone nearly every day,” Billy said.
    â€œThat’s not exactly true,” Hennessy said. He could see Nora’s right arm as she reached up to shut the trunk.
    â€œOh, yeah?” Billy said.
    â€œYeah,” Hennessy told him. “As a matter of fact, it’s a lie.”
    Nora came back to them then. She was smiling and she held out her arms. For a moment Hennessy felt confused and weak in the knees. He took a step forward, and when he did Nora tilted her head.
    â€œThe saw,” she said.
    Hennessy stopped where he was.
    â€œYou said I could borrow it, and I need it today. If that’s all right.”
    â€œOh,” Hennessy said. “Sure.”
    After Billy had gotten into the backseat, Hennessy helped Nora fit the saw into the passenger seat.
    â€œDon’t you kids touch this,” Nora said. “Thanks a million,” she told Hennessy when she got behind the wheel. “I need more shelf space.”
    Hennessy stood beside his car and watched her drive away, enormously pleased that Jim Wineman and Sam Romero would be thinking he was on his way home to make the shelves that would just have to wait until Nora returned the saw.
    All the next day Hennessy couldn’t get Nora out of his mind. He spent the afternoon with Ellen and the kids at her sister’s, and he gave the kids their Sunday baths. But he kept thinking about Nora. That night, after the moon rose, Hennessy began to dream about her. The children and Ellen were all asleep in their beds and the curtains were drawn. Hennessy was under a white sheet and a light wool blanket; he wore striped pajamas and his feet were cold and white. When he found her in his dreams he pulled her down beside him, into his single bed. Ellen never heard them, she didn’t even turn in her sleep. How could she not smell the perfume Nora was wearing? How could she not hear the bedsprings creak?
    He unhooked whatever Nora was wearing; he didn’t care that his wife was asleep in the same room. He put his hands on Nora’s breasts while Ellen pulled her blanket up, while his children slept, while the wood waiting to be cut into shelves lay on the basement floor. She was so hot his fingers burned when he touched her. He could hear the alarm clock ticking on the night table and the sound of the boiler in the basement below them. He slid one of his hands along her belly, then down between her legs. When she started to moan, he put his other hand over her mouth so Ellen wouldn’t wake. But how could she not hear them? How could she not see the shape of Hennessy’s mouth on Nora’s skin? No, he couldn’t care about that, he couldn’t even think about it. He shifted