Coming Home(175)

“Yeah,” he managed softly.

They both sat across from each other, and Leah shifted in her seat before she smiled tentatively at him.

God, she was so beautiful.

“So…how are you?” she asked.

Such a simple question.

But as the seconds ticked by, he couldn’t even begin to formulate a response. What was he supposed to say? That he was completely miserable? That he spent the first night here heaving over the toilet after eating the slop at the dining hall? That every day the guards spoke to him with vitriol, and he was expected to take it or suffer the consequences? That he used the bathroom in a room with six toilets separated by plastic dividers without doors, so even his most basic human privacies had been stripped from him? That on his sixth night in this place, he saw another inmate cry and couldn’t decide if he wanted to console him or tell him his weakness was disgusting, because it mirrored his own?

He watched Leah waiting for his answer, and when her smile began to falter, she dropped her eyes and took a small breath. When she looked back up, her face was once again composed.

“How are your classes?” she asked, trying her luck with a different question.

“They’re good,” Danny said. “Keep me occupied in the mornings.”

Her smile broadened now that he seemed to be responding. “I would have taken you for more of a night class kind of guy.”

Danny smiled softly. “No classes offered at night because of all-call.”

“What’s all-call?”

“When we line up so they can make sure we’re all behaving and accounted for, and that no one made a run for it.”

Something flashed behind her eyes before a contrived smile curved her lips, and then she looked down at her lap. After a few seconds, she lifted the sandwich bag that held her ID and her money.

“I’m gonna go get a snack. You want anything?”

Danny shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“Okay,” she said softly as she stood and made her way over to the vending machine on the far wall. Danny watched as she stopped just before it and lowered her head, taking a slow breath before she looked up and began putting money in the machine.

She obviously needed a minute or she wouldn’t have gotten up so soon. In hindsight, he could see how the idea of an all-call might upset her. The thought of him having to line up and be scrutinized was a reminder of his status as a criminal—but there was nothing he could tell her about his life in there that wouldn’t generate the same type of reaction.

The absolute last thing he wanted to do was make her worry about him. He needed to be more thoughtful about what he said. This visit was supposed to be a little pocket of perfect inside a mess of shit, and it would never be that if he wasted their time together by upsetting her.

He needed to be the one asking the questions, and she needed to be the one talking. Stories from home would be safe topics of conversation. Funny stories. Normal stories.

Leah walked back to her chair with a bottle of water and a bag of M&M’s. “Want some?” she asked, holding it out.

“Can’t,” Danny said, nodding toward the wall where two guards stood watching.

“Oh, right,” she mumbled, glancing over her shoulder. “Sorry.”

“So, how’s Gram doing?” he asked, and Leah focused all her attention on opening her bag of candy.

“She’s good. Keeping busy, you know.”

Danny stared at her as she avoided eye contact, sifting through the bag before popping a few in her mouth.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one trying to censor the conversation.