Because Marcus knew exactly what he would tell her if the roles were reversed.
If you see someone who cannot safely care for themselves, you do not leave them because helping is inconvenient.
Children made morality look easier than adulthood allowed it to be.
Marcus called Loretta.
She answered immediately.
“You on the way?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“I need a favor.”
Her voice changed.
“What happened?”
“Something at work.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward Eleanor.
“My boss isn’t.”
There was a pause.
“Can you take Zoe to the program?”
Loretta did not answer immediately.
Marcus knew why.
“She’s going to be hurt.”
“I know.”
“You promised her.”
“I know.”
“Marcus.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“Please.”
Loretta exhaled.
“I’ll take her.”
“Sit close.”
“I will.”
“Record everything.”
“Of course.”
“And tell her—”
“You tell her yourself later.”
Marcus swallowed.
“Okay.”
Loretta softened.
“I’ve got her.”
“Thank you.”
He ended the call.
For several seconds he simply stood there holding the phone.
Eleanor was watching him.
“Your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“You’re missing something?”
“It doesn’t matter right now.”
She stared at him.
Even drunk, she recognized the lie.
Marcus gathered her belongings.
He asked the restaurant manager to note that Eleanor left with him because she was intoxicated and unable to arrange safe transportation.
The manager looked surprised.
“You want me to write that down?”
“Yes.”
Marcus gave him his business card.
“Please.”
Then he asked the hotel valet to note the time Eleanor entered his car.
The valet stared.
Marcus understood how strange that request sounded.
“Just put it on the ticket.”
The young man shrugged.
“Sure.”
Marcus opened the passenger door.
Eleanor lowered herself into the seat.
Before closing it, he took one more step.
He sent a text to Diane Cole.
Eleanor is extremely intoxicated. Her phone is dead and she cannot recall her new address. I am taking her to my house so she is not left alone. Please confirm receipt.
Diane did not respond.
Marcus took a screenshot anyway.
Then he drove.
The first ten minutes passed quietly.
Eleanor leaned against the passenger window.
The city lights moved across her face.
Then she whispered, “Everyone knows.”
Marcus kept his eyes on the road.
“Knows what?”
“Richard.”
He understood.
“I don’t discuss your divorce.”
“Everybody does.”
“I don’t.”
She laughed.
“You’re smarter than everybody.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Her words were becoming slower.
“You always know exactly what not to say.”
Marcus glanced toward her.