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172 Jack Fritscher

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“Hello in there!” Ada rubbed Cameron’s forehead with the cool
wet bandana.
“Cassie’s really gone then,” he said.
“As much as Cassie ever goes,” Ada said. “I wouldn’t worry. She
has her own ways of coping, weak as they are.”
“She’ll keel over out there, Ada.” The hand with his drink sank
to the floor beside the couch.
Ada lifted the glass to her lips and finished the burning whiskey.
“Cassiopeia will be alright. So will Curtis,” she soothed, climbing
on top of Cameron’s outstretched body. She kissed him. She loved
him. “Everything’s alright,” she said. “Everybody drops people now
and then.” She kissed him again. “We’re alright, Cameron. We’re
here now.”
She cupped his head in her hands, nuzzling his lips, nose, eyes.
“They’re both gone,” she said.
“They’ll come back.”
“And we’ll send them away.”
“We have no choice.”
She kissed him. “We’re all alone.”
“We need to be alone together,” he said. He brought his arms
up around her, pulling her down on to him. “We two.” He needed
to hold her, just hold her.
She let him embrace her sweetly.
She relaxed across the full length of his body. She rose and fell
with his breathing as he drifted off to sleep. She felt his unshaven
face chafe against her cheek. Some things she sometimes accepted.
She was not sleepy in her vigil, holding him, protecting him, but she
could not afford to look too long at his face. Maybe he wasn’t the
best man in the world, but he was the best who had yet come along.
Everyone thought they were a great couple. They were charmed,
emerging from the burden of their pasts. He was as handsome as she
was attractive, and, lord knows, something in the very look of him
warmed the cold Curtis had left deep inside her when his dose had

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