Court was surprisingly mundane.  The judge asked her a few questions blatantly designed to ensure that she was honest about her situation.  Surprised that she’d never been to Rockland surprised him but he was astounded when he learned that she was eager to get home.

After fifteen minutes of documenting her existence, the judge signed the paperwork to process a birth certificate for Willow, shook her hand, and excused her from his office.  In the hallway, she grinned like a fool at Bill Franklin and Renee Freeman.  “I can’t believe it!  No test even!  No courtroom either.  Is that normal?”

“For this kind of thing, a courtroom is unnecessary.  Some places probably use them but Rockland is a busy city.  They save courtrooms for actual trials.”  Renee excused herself to file the paperwork with the Registrar.  She assured Willow that a copy would be on the way to the Finley farm in a matter of weeks.

“I have to get back to the office.  We have several important meetings today but I’ve cleared my schedule after three so that we can go to the Natural History Museum, the Zoo, or wherever you-”

“Well the bus leaves at 3:40…”

“But I was going to take you home tomorrow afternoon. Chad said he could handle things until then.”

Willow chewed her lip leaving a deceptive impression that she was capitulating.  Truthfully, she was furious.  It took every ounce of self-control that she could muster to keep her temper in check.  “No.  I didn’t sleep well last night.  I missed my bed, my room, the bullfrogs, the cicadas, and knowing that Othello is nearby if I get lonely.  I am going home.”

Her words shamed Bill.  He’d assumed he was offering her something she couldn’t help but desire.  To him, an afternoon of new experiences, a night on the town, and then a picnic drive through New Cheltenham on their way back to Fairbury was an obvious dream-come-true.  The idea that she was lonely in the city and comforted when all alone at the farmhouse was completely foreign to him.

Bill glanced at his watch.  “I’ve got an appointment in fifteen minutes and a ten minute drive.  I’ll call and arrange a late check out and I’ll be at the hotel by ten after three to take you to the bus.”  He fumbled for his keys and started backing away from her.  “Will you be ok until then?  I- I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean-”

“I’ll be fine.  I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.  You didn’t know.”

Without another word, she walked confidently down the street toward the subway station causing Bill a twinge of nervousness.  At the corner, she turned and waved before consulting a map from her tote bag and then disappeared around the corner.  Her confident walk, carefree air, and thoughtful wave amazed him.  Again.

“Wow.”

***

J.C. Penney’s had nothing that interested her in the accessories department.  Jill saw her as she walked by and gave her two thumbs up.  Upon hearing that she was dissatisfied with the purse selection, Jill whispered that Macy’s was having a great sale on all leather accessories.

Consulting the mall map outside the Penney’s entrance, Willow wove through the crowds and eventually down the right wing to the Macy’s entrance.  A helpful woman at a perfume counter pointed her in the direction of the purses.

After debating over several options, Willow finally chose a tan purse with both handles and a strap.  She realized immediately that she didn’t know which she preferred and the matching wallet included was an added bonus.  She carried it with her as she looked over the shelves and racks once more, and then moved toward a register near a hosiery department.

Underneath a sunglass display, her identical purse in a darker brown lay discarded.  She glanced inside to ensure it was merchandise rather than someone’s lost property.  The wads of paper she’d found in all the other purses reassured her and she excitedly returned the first purse.  The scent of honeysuckle and oranges distracted her from the cash register and before she knew it, she’d spent an hour sniffing perfumes, sampling lotions, and found a pair of sunglasses to add to her lotion and purse purchase.

The sales clerk didn’t see anything delightful in her unsophisticated customer.  Willow asked questions about ingredients and the woman answered them as briefly as possible.  Once she realized that she was not dealing with another Jill, Willow passed the sunglasses and purse across the counter.  “May I pay for these as well as the lotion?”

“Certainly.  Will this be on your Macy’s card today?”

“Macy’s card?”

“Would you like to apply-”

Willow shook her head frantically.  “They wouldn’t give me one anyway.  I have no-”

“Well, then will this be cash?” the woman interrupted impatiently?

Willow pulled her mother’s twenty-four year old wallet from her simple tote bag, and held it open ready to hand over the money once she received her total.  The clerk, in routine motions, pulled wadded paper from the purse and a pair of earrings slipped from the wrappings.  She gave Willow a disgusted look and carefully poked through each wrapping to expose several pieces of costume jewelry, a tester bottle of perfume, and beyond that, Willow saw no more.

“The other one didn’t have all that stuff with it.  It just had the wallet.”

“Nice try.  Security is on the way.”

Willow stared at her confused.  “Security?”

“Oh we’ve seen it all.  That is so not going to work.”

Before Willow could respond, a voice at her elbow asked her to follow him.  She protested.  “I don’t know who you are!  I’m not going anywhere with a strange man.”

“Ma’am, I’m store security and if you don’t follow me we’ll be forced to call the police and we do have the right to detain you.”

Suddenly, Willow went cold.  “What?  I don’t understand.  Why the police?  What did I do?  Because I didn’t want the card?  I can’t get a card!  I have no identification to prove- and anyway, Mother didn’t approve of credit.”

“Macy’s takes shoplifting very seriously miss.  Let’s go.”

The word shoplifting was enough to stop her protest.  Dread filled her heart and tears sprung to her eyes.  Willow now understood.  “I didn’t-”

“Just come with me.  We have surveillance tapes.”

A clear calm swept over her and a smile came to her face.  “Of course.   Of course you do!  Would you mind if I requested that the clerk come with us?  I am still uncomfortable going somewhere with a strange man.  Or maybe I could call my lawyer?  I have a cell-”

“Heather, come with us.”

Quite a crowd had gathered around the fringes of the cosmetics counter and watched in awe as Willow walked serenely beside the security guard.  Unaware that she left a slack-jawed group of onlookers amazed at her poise and confidence, she followed the store employees into an elevator and up to a floor of offices.

In a screening room, three people hovered around four monitors and scrolled through footage until one pointed at Willow entering the store.  She watched, fascinated, as they traced her steps to the initial counter, around the accessories department, looking into several bags as she tried to make a choice, walking away with the first bag, finding the second, and then her rush to return the first to the shelf where she’d found it.

“I don’t see-”

The woman leaning over two men punched a button and the screens whirled back until the store opened that morning at nine o’clock.  They panned to the sunglass display and saw nothing.  Then, ten minutes into the morning, two teen-aged girls hovered over the purse and then dropped it, half kicked under the display.  Before anyone could say anything, the sales clerk tapped the security guard and pointed at a currently recording screen.

“Ms. Patel?”

One glance at the screen and she pointed at the door.  “Go.”  She turned to Willow and smiled apologetically.  “I am truly sorry.  I hope you can understand-”

“Oh, I do.  This was exciting for me once I knew that I’d be cleared.”

“You knew-”

Willow’s smile lit her face and wiped away the stress of the afternoon.  “Of course!  When he said something about surveillance, I knew there wasn’t anything to worry about since I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong.”

As she disappeared behind the door, the two men looked at Ms. Patel.  “I almost wish all of our customers could be so confident.”

She eyed him quizzically.  “Almost?”

“Sure!  If everyone knew they hadn’t done anything wrong, I’d be out of a job!”

***

Bill lingered until the bus rounded the corner and disappeared behind the large building.  His afternoon meetings had been sweeping and unequivocal failures.  While he tried to discuss investment portfolios, stock options, and retirement plans, his mind whirled around the question of what he could have done to make Willow want to stay a bit longer.

His big corporate retirement plan presentation was an utter disaster.  After the third restart, he had closed his prospectus folder and apologized saying, “I am very sorry.  I’ve prepared for this presentation for weeks. I know that I can offer you a competitive plan with a solid base but I have had a shock this morning and cannot seem to shake it.  If I can reschedule, I would appreciate the opportunity but I realize that my unprofessional behavior may have cost me this account.  I will call Monday to see if you will be generous enough to reschedule.  Thank you,” and then disappeared behind the conference room doors.

Bill now retraced their steps to the escalators and down to the subway.  Willow had insisted on riding the new subway line to the bus station leaving Bill forced to return the way he’d come.  What he considered filthy and somewhat degrading, Willow found exciting and fresh.  “Fresh,” he mused to himself inwardly.  “What an odd word to use to describe a train ride.”

He walked to the Towers from the corner substation and handed his card to the valet.  Within minutes, he cruised along city streets to his apartment building.  Halfway up the elevator to his fifth floor apartment, Bill looked around him and realized that everything he did was on a semi-autopilot.  At his floor, he punched the down arrow and retraced his steps.

Outside his apartment building, Bill looked around him.  Several apartment buildings, an office building, a parking garage, and a gym surrounded him.  A quick glance at the entrance to The Roark Building gave him a perspective he’d never seen.  Sixteen floors towered above him in a mass of steel, concrete, and glass.  The modernist style contrasted sharply with the royal blue and gold canvas doorway awning that seemed more suited for older architecture.

Security cameras and personnel were such a part of his life that Bill had never questioned them.  He did now.  He pictured Willow in her farmhouse surrounded by fields of grass, wildflowers, and windows that probably didn’t even lock.  Security measures that prevented him from entering his own home without proper identification seemed extreme in light of Willow’s world.

The corridors and elevators were spotless.  The walls and trim were clean and the paint unmarred.  As he entered his own apartment, closed the door, and locked it, he stared at the lock, deadbolt, and safety bar.  Three locking apparatus, a security card entrance downstairs, camera monitored lobby, and security doorman seemed a bit excessive, even to Bill.  The idea of living without them seemed terrifying.

Designed in the style of loft apartments, Bill’s home was open, airy, and tastefully decorated.  Only his bedroom and bathroom had actual walls.  The rest of the room was separated by furniture, screens, and sliding walls used to create privacy when desired.  He loved his apartment but seen through Willow’s eyes, it looked sterile and empty.

The Finley women had made an art of beautifying everything around them.  He’d made an art of minimizing and stripping everything to its barest core.  His walls held no art- his windows, no coverings.  The bed was spread with a thick black down comforter and nothing more.  There were no rugs on the highly polished floors and no pillows on the sleek leather couches.  The coffee table held no books, no vase, no sculpture- nothing.

Lin Chen had already left for the day.  The six singles on floors five and six paid Lin well to keep their apartments clean.  It was an easy job for Lin- most of her clients ate meals out and sent out their laundry.  Bill was no exception.  He liked the arrangement but today it seemed lazy.

Frustrated, he moved to his closet stripping off his shirt and tie as he went.  He left his clothes in a heap on the floor and clad in shorts and a t-shirt, tied on his athletic shoes and started up the treadmill.  Normally, he spent his early evenings at the gym but he didn’t feel like socializing.

Friday night.  He’d assumed he had a date.  With Willow. Bill punched the speed arrow twice and went from a speed walk to a jog.  The more he ruminated, the more disconcerted he became.  His index finger jabbed at the up arrow again.  Again.  Now he ran.  His feet pounded on the belt as it spun on rollers.  Sweat poured over him as though a rain cloud hovered above the treadmill.

Twenty minutes later, he collapsed on his exercise mat exhausted.  Bill lifted one knee to his chest, then the other.  He did a few stomach crunches and then, as though to punish himself for some undeclared sin, began push-ups.  After fifty, he collapsed- cleansed.

As he lay on his mat, he realized that Willow too worked her muscles until they refused to do any more.  She was in excellent shape.  Her arms were tan and the muscles well defined from hard and consistent work.  Work.  That was the difference.  Bill worked with his mind.  To keep his body healthy and physically fit, he had to manufacture work for it.  Treadmills, rowing machines, rock walls- they were all the trappings of a modern lifestyle devoid of physical exertion to sustain life.

Willow had that.  Perhaps- Bill stood and putting the thought of her from his mind, dragged himself to his shower.  Three sprays filled the bathroom with steam.  He wondered if she even had one.  Growling at himself for turning his thoughts back to the forbidden, Bill hurried out of the shower, into clean clothes, and out of his apartment.  This was the city and he loved it.  He’d enjoy himself without this false guilt.

Alone in the Sushi Garden, Bill bit into his favorite eel and seaweed wrapped concoction.  Immediately he thought, “I wonder if Willow has ever had sushi?”

The server watched concerned as Bill threw down a few bills and strode from the restaurant.  Frantic Japanese flew between the manager and the chef followed by an order to the server to follow Bill.  Several patrons looked at their plates nervously as their servers arrived with tantalizing dishes.

The server grabbed Bill’s money and raced after him.  The patrons watched as she offered Bill his money back and apologized profusely.  The silent scene was like a moment in an old movie.  Bill waved the money back at her and made apologetic gestures.  A look of sympathy crossed over the young woman’s face as she laid her hand on his arm.  A gesture welcoming him to return was kindly refused and Bill walked away, shoulders slumped.

The server entered the restaurant and found all eyes on her.  She shrugged her shoulders and said, “He said the food was fine but his heart isn’t.  It sounds like he got dumped today.”

An understanding murmur echoed around the room and the patrons went back to their meals as though nothing had happened.  If Bill had seen it, he’d have felt worse still.  As it was, he shuffled along the sidewalks of Rockland, unaware of where he was going or what he’d do if he ever got there.