I wasn’t drinking, but they were. Two hours later, they staggered back toward the restaurant while I frantically struggled into my clothes in the back of my small SUV. I had crawled out and started to straighten out the back of the car when raised voices caught my attention. My erstwhile companions stood at the corner of the building in a heated exchange with a guy in a shirt and tie who gestured repeatedly toward me. I caught only a few words: “kids,” “complaints,” “family place,” “police.” I took just long enough to wad up the stadium blanket we had all used as a towel and to throw it over the snow bank. Then I jumped into the car, and in an instant was off and around the building, leaving them to deal with the fall out. It’s only a ten minute drive, but by the time I pull into a spot in the parking garage I am shivering. Worse yet, even after driving with all the windows open, it seems that the aroma of beer and sex still fills the car or clings to me. Or both. I can only hope. . a better place ... where there were no screams ever.A sudden memory assailed her, unremembered these long years. She had been at the woman's house, and had cried that she wanted her dolly. The woman had held her, saying that the dolly was gone, but that she'd get her a new one. That doll was probably still in her room next door. The doll wasn't gone. It had lain there, alone all this time, waiting for Lizzy to come back and hold her again.She had caught herself half crouching in the bath, unconsciously having started to get up and go get her dolly. The air was cool and she sank back down in the tub. Somehow, knowing that her doll was there was comforting. It would be there tomorrow, and she'd go get it then.Her mind stayed in the house, in the room where she now believed her doll lay. All she had of that room were good memories. It occurred to her that it wasn't the house that had killed her parents. Men had done that. Greed had done that. The house couldn't stop it from happening..
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