Just After Midnight

by Catherine Ryan Hyde

than she had been for as long as she could

than promised, as was her habit. “I can’t believe you’ve even finished

Ava’s voice startled her. An aluminum

“And I notice you’re using that to duck

behind, and building a new one from scratch

swimming. When she had been a

thought seriously of a hasty exit. “If you don’t mind my saying so, I think you spend too much of your life being sorry.” It struck her as a strange observation, based on how little they knew of each other. But then she decided it had been an easy one, an observation that anyone could make at almost any moment after meeting her. The shame of that realization stole her wind and welded her to the webbed chair. For what could have been several minutes, they watched the sun inch down toward the horizon. It was so close to setting that it didn’t hurt to look right at it for a moment. Or, at least, it didn’t hurt Faith. This man—whose name she still did not know—was more sensitive. As if using a listening device trained to her thoughts, he said, “Greg,” and held out his right hand for her to shake. She shook it. It felt warm, and utterly uncalloused. Like a man who had never done a day’s hard labor in his life. Then she remembered he worked in IT. It also felt uncomfortably intimate. A genuine touch between two people, something Faith was in no way prepared to feel. “Faith,” she said, quickly letting go of the hand. Then they watched the sun setting for another minute or two. “In my own defense,” she said, “the hat and sunglasses do add to the impression that you’re a stalker sort of a person.” “And that’s another thing,” he said. “Why defend yourself? You seem to feel the need to defend yourself. You were using the level of caution you thought was appropriate at that moment. Wh...

Greg. “Did I see what?” “The green flash.” “Oh. No. I’ve heard of it. But I didn’t see it just now.” “My mother used to tell me that when someone saw it, they usually felt like it changed their lives somehow. But I don’t know if that’s just a legend.” “Do you feel different?” “Not really,” she said, poking around for anything she might be feeling. “I wonder if I imagined it,” she added out loud, wishing she had only said it in her head. “Since you didn’t see it.” “It was probably my sunglasses,” he said. “You can take them off now.” “Excuse me?” “The sun is down. Even you don’t need a hat, a beach umbrella, and sunglasses when the sun is down.” “Better yet,” he said, removing nothing, “we could move this conversation into the living room. I have a nice bottle of wine in there, breathing.” Faith leapt to her feet, almost before she realized she was about to do so. She stood in front of him, covering as much of herself as she could with the towel, wanting to speak but feeling the next words out of her mouth would be sputtery and embarrassing. She risked it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, sounding sputtery and embarrassed. Perhaps even more so than she had imagined. “I’m right in the middle of an ugly divorce. Well, I shouldn’t say ‘ugly’ like I know it for a fact, because I really haven’t even heard his reaction to my filing for divorce. I left before I could hear how he planned to handle it. But I’ve known him for nine years, so it’s a pretty good guess that ...

here.” “Right,” Greg said. “I get it. I just moved back into possible stalker territory by asking. And I didn’t mean to. I just saw you having what looked like a heart-to-heart with someone, and it was someone much younger, and it just made me curious as to what brought the two of you together.” “She’s going through a rough time,” Faith said, relaxing some. “Having some problems I can relate to. I’m just trying to be a decent person and help her in any way I can.” “Well,” he said, sliding his sunglasses back on, for reasons Faith could not imagine. Force of habit, maybe. “That’s definitely a point toward your being a good person, which I already pretty much figured you were. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable by asking.” She smiled slightly to show she no longer minded. Then she turned for home. Halfway there it struck her. Why was he wearing shorts and bare feet if he couldn’t tolerate any sun exposure? For a minute or so, well into her own kitchen, it felt like an inconsistency. Her brain worried at it like a dog obsessed with a bone or toy. At first it felt almost as though she had caught him in some sort of lie. Then she decided it was only his eyes that were so sensitive, an...

don’t know. Maybe I’m making too much of little things. I could be wrong. But my husband never cooked.

silence fell, and it was awkward. Deeply awkward. It made Faith feel she wanted

said. “Damn it! Okay, for today. Is she

I didn’t

unconcerned. Faith lifted the boot away. She took off the other front boot, then straightened up and looked around for John to save her. He was nowhere to be seen. “She won’t kick you,” Sarah said, seeming to read Faith’s thoughts. Faith sighed and went to work on the

“You know that mare, right?” an unfamiliar voice said. Faith looked over, bounced out of a stupor, to see the girl in riding clothes

horse’s reins. Dan, the father, arrived just a step behind. “See, I didn’t think so, honey,”

John down a dirt driveway with a closed gate halfway along it. Behind the gate was a farm that looked beautiful enough to be captured

horse blankets the girl had left folded in the corner—a white cotton blanket with

buckles. Then she switched off the light and tried to

Faith saw the dark shape of the girl in Midnight’s stall. She

conversation that Faith could stay out of, leaving

was

factors as well. They fell silent for a time, Midnight’s soft-looking nose just inches from Faith’s shoulder. For a moment she wanted to reach out

weekend. I wasn’t going to argue with him.” “No,” Faith said. “I wouldn’t imagine you

“But you’re sure it’s okay that we do. For

out on the trail. I heard there’s a place

trail. Never. I asked him. He just schools

week is good for their mind.” “It’ll

barn and was startled to see another

kid to be able to do by the time she’s

nobody can really explain how. She’s like a prodigy.” “Oh,”

inside of the porta-potty doors. The women’s

effort behind the girl’s words. They did not come easily. “Traveling with me, I

much going on when we left the beach. I think we were all sort of in shock.

never

even though she wasn’t sure what the answer

Faith sat under a huge canopy on a folding

Moorpark.” “Dean,”

said. “Buy you a soft drink?” Faith

her. It was an oddly formal gesture, she thought.

mother died.” Faith

freezing wetness felt good in her hand.

her way.” “Like

moment. “Yes,” he said. “I think that’s more

good way. Again, her head was filled with questions. So many questions, jostling each other for a place in line. Instead of any of them, she heard herself ask, “Are all horses so emotional?” Dean

“I guess just whether she’s a horse somebody

“There’s a thing we call a ‘safe’ horse,” he began. “It’s really just an expression. No horse is guaranteed safe.

relief. “So, I know people think the mare

change. Sarah sucked in her breath again.

good.” Faith looked away from the performance