Read Online Take Another Look by Rosalind Noonan - Free Book Online Page A

supreme effort to walk. One foot in front of the other, she told herself. One breath in, and then out. The mechanics of living could be so difficult. Especially when you were drunk.
    â€œAre you okay to drive?” one of the bartenders called after her.
    She lifted her hand in what she hoped looked like a dismissive wave. The cool air outside the bar sobered her up fast. Fresh air was what she needed. Her little Honda gleamed from its spot in front of the bar. She loved her little red car. Well, she had to love it since she’d be paying for it over the next few years.
    After she bumped her head on the way in, she slunk down in the driver’s seat, rubbing vigorously and wondering if she should call a cab. The worst case scenarios loomed large in her mind. She could crash like Diana, and that would be very bad. She could get a DUI, and that would be bad, too. She might lose her job, or even her teaching certification. A teacher had to set a good example, and breaking the law was not a good thing.
    â€œNot good,” she said aloud as she buckled her seatbelt. But the fresh air had helped her realize that she was upset and sad . . . tired, too. Not really drunk. Besides, she was a good driver, and the apartment was just down the road. “A straight shot,” she said. Well . . . with a few turns. Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, she turned the key. She could do this.
    The view through the windshield was surreal, a driving course on a dark video game as she accelerated slowly, steering carefully to stay on the track. The street by the Docks was well lit and fairly quiet, with only a few stragglers walking and the occasional car moving past her.
    As the waterfront gave way to the industrial area, the lights dimmed, and she had to strain to see parts of the roadway. What a dark night! Was there no moon in the sky?
    Just as the darkness closed around her, bright light bounced through her car. In the rearview mirror, the strobe of a police vehicle flashed red and blue. A cop. Oh, no! Right on her tail. The double whoop of the siren let her know that she had to pull over.
    You’re okay. You’re okay, she told herself as she rolled to a stop on the gravel shoulder of the roadway and put the car in park. It was probably just a routine check. A glimpse in the rearview mirror revealed only the bright lights of the police cruiser behind her. Leaning toward the mirror, she was horrified by the fine beads of perspiration glistening on her upper lip. She swiped at her face and then shoved her trembling hands in her lap.
    The beam of a flashlight hit her window, and she rolled it down and peered up at the dark form of a man.
    â€œGood evening, officer.” The calm teacher voice came through. “Is everything okay?”
    â€œLicense and registration, please.” The voice was gruff, brisk.
    She handed him the driver’s license from her wallet, but panic swirled as she wondered about the registration. The console. Of course. Her father would have put it there when he registered the car for her. She found the little leather folder that had come with the car, and the registration seemed to smile up at her. Phew!
    â€œJane Flannery.” He moved the beam of the flashlight from the ID in his hand to Jane’s face. “New car?”
    â€œPretty new.”
    â€œHave you been drinking, Jane?”
    â€œYes.” Why had she said that? She was afraid to lie to him. He was such an ominous figure: dark uniform with a shiny badge, baritone voice, face obscured by that wailing beam of light. “But I’m not drunk. I mean, it was spaced out over hours and hours.”
    â€œIs there a reason you were driving with your lights off?”
    â€œI . . .” She squinted through the windshield at the overwhelming night. No wonder it seemed so dark. She turned the switch, and the road was suddenly illuminated. “I didn’t know. Sorry about that.”
    He moved away from the