Maybe it was the way she wore her hair. Or the simple business suit.
But most of all, it was her eyes.
There was a calm self-assurance in them that hadn't been there before.
Her hand reached out and she drew the child to her.
"It's all right, Jo-Ann," she said, picking the child up. "He's a friend of Mommy's."
The child smiled.
"Hello, man."
"Hello," I said. I looked at Monica. "Hello, Monica."
"Hello, Jonas," she said stiffly.
"How are you?"
"O.K.
I want to see you."
"About what?" she asked. "I thought everything was settled."
"It's not about us," I said quickly. "It's about the kid."
She held the child closely to her in a sudden gesture. Something like fright came into her eyes.
"What about Jo-Ann?"
"There's nothing to worry about," I said.
"Maybe we'd better go inside."
I stepped aside while she opened the door, and followed her into a small living room.
She put the child down. "Go into your room and play with your dolls, Jo-Ann."
The child laughed happily and ran off.
Monica turned back to me.
"You look tired," she said.
"Were you waiting long?"
I shook my head. "Not long."
"Sit down," she said quietly. "I'll make some coffee."
"Don't bother. I won't keep you long."
"That's all right," she said quickly. "I don't mind. It isn't often we have visitors."
She went into the kitchen and I sank into a chair. I looked around the room.
Somehow, I couldn't get used to the idea that this was where she lived. It looked as if it was furnished from Gimbels basement. Not that it wasn't good.
It was just that everything was neat and practical and cheap. And Monica used to be more the Grosfeld House type.
She came back into the room, carrying a steaming cup of black coffee, and put it down on the table next to me.
"Two sugars, right?"
"Right."
Quickly she put two lumps of sugar into the coffee and stirred it.
I sipped it and began to feel better.
"That's good coffee," I said. "It's G. Washington." "What's that?" "The working girl's friend," she said.
"Instant coffee.
It's really not too bad when you get used to it." "What will they think of next?"
"Can I get you a couple of aspirins?" she asked.
"You look as if you have a headache."
"How do you know?"
She smiled.
"We were married for a while once, remember?
You get a kind of wrinkle on your forehead when you have a headache."
"Two, then, please," I said. "Thanks."
She sat down opposite me after I'd taken them.
Her eyes watched me steadily. "Surprised to see me in a place like this?"
"A little," I said.
"I didn't know until just a little while ago that you hadn't kept any of the money I gave you.