Agnes's Arc

Chapter 5 of 10

Tuesday, Agnes drove to the bakery with Tom. She had not slept well. She had counted Sundays in the dark. Four, maybe five, before Allan stopped moving when she pointed at the door. Tom parked at the curb. The bakery windows were bright. Inside, Melissa stacked loaves on a shelf. Allan worked the register. He did not look up when the bell rang. "Coffee," Tom said to Allan. Plain. A man ordering, not visiting. Allan poured it. His hands were steady. His jaw was not. Agnes walked to the counter. Melissa met her eyes and gave a small shake of the head. Not here. Not with him listening. "Allan," Agnes said. "A word." He set the cup down. He wiped his hands. He came around the counter and stood in front of her, arms loose, waiting. "Sunday," Agnes said. "I went." "You went because I made you." He went still. The same stillness as the ruined tray. Agnes did not soften. "I can't be here every week," she said. "I'm old. I'll forget. I'll be sick. And the first Sunday I miss, you'll be back at that oven, and she'll be back at that counter, and I'll have bought her nothing." Allan looked at the floor. Then at Melissa. Melissa's hand went to the locket. She did not lower it this time. She held it out where he could see. "I know," Allan said. Quiet. "I know what I do." Tom stepped up beside Agnes. He set his coffee on the counter. "Then we route around you," Tom said. "Every Sunday. Standing arrangement. Melissa spends the day with her mother and me. You do what you want with the shop. But she is not in this room on Sundays. Not one." Allan looked at Tom. Tom did not look away. "That's the deal," Tom said. "You already broke the first one. This one has two of us watching." Allan's mouth opened. Closed. He nodded once. "Fine," he said. "Say it," Melissa said. Her voice was low. "Say it to me." Allan turned to her. He did not touch her. "Sundays are yours," he said. "I won't ask where. I won't call. I won't wait at the door." Melissa's eyes filled. She did not wipe them. She nodded. Outside, Agnes walked to the car. Tom held the door. "You didn't tell me you were coming today," she said. "I heard you pacing at four." Agnes sat down. Her hands were shaking. She had not noticed until now. "He'll test it," she said. "He'll test me," Tom said. "Not you. That's the point." Agnes looked at the bakery window. Melissa was watching them go. Her hand was still at her throat, and her shoulders were down. Agnes had been carrying it alone. She was not carrying it alone anymore.