“I know.”
“You take a lot of abuse from me and you keep on going, and I respect that about you. And I’m touched that you’d be so worried about my situation. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll sort things out. We’ll get through this. Gill and I and Marla, we’ll do whatever it takes. That’s the way I’ve always been. Maybe sometimes I come across like I don’t care, but that’s not true.”
Carol nodded.
“Are you going to be okay?” Agnes asked. “Do you want to take the day?”
She shook her head violently. “No, I’m certainly not going to leave you, not when you have this much to deal with. I mean, how would it look? You can come to work, but I have to go home?”
Agnes patted her hand. “Okay, then. I want you to reschedule that board meeting for tomorrow, first thing. And let everyone know there’s a chance I might have to cancel again. My — our — situation is a bit unpredictable at the moment.”
“Of course.”
“And now I’m going to go up and see how Marla is doing. I think I’ll have her sent home today.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard.”
“Well, everything about this is pretty unbelievable. Gill’s going to take some time off, or at least conduct all his business from the house, so there’ll be someone there with Marla at all times. He’s there now. We’ll spell each other.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Carol said. She stood. “Thank you for this. And there’s just one other thing I’d like to say.”
“Okay,” Agnes said, and waited.
“I just know Marla didn’t do anything bad.”
“Well, that’s nice of you, Carol.”
“I’ve met her lots of times, and I don’t think she has a mean bone in her body. She’s a good person.”
Agnes smiled. “Let everyone know about the rescheduled meeting. I’ll be back in a while.”
Agnes left her office, heading for the elevators. Carol returned to her own desk, tossed her tissue into the wastebasket tucked under it, then took a small makeup mirror from her purse to make sure she looked presentable. When she was finished with that, she took out her cell phone. She found the number she was looking for, then put the phone to her ear and listened to the rings.
After five, someone picked up.
Carol said, “Hey, it’s me... I just had the most amazing conversation with, you know, my boss.... She was so nice to me. I’ve been a total wreck about what’s going on, and I kind of lost it and she was really comforting. I’ve never really seen her like that before... Yeah, kind of weird... And it got me thinking about us, you know, that maybe it’s time to, you know. I mean, there’s just no future... I know, I know... I just don’t think I can keep doing this... I kind of figured you’d be thinking along the same lines... I know... I hear ya... Look, I have to go; there’s a lot going on here... Don’t say that... You’re going to make me cry... I love you, too, Gill.”
Forty-one
Walden Fisher ended up taking Victor Rooney back to his house after escorting the man out of that bar. Walden wasn’t certain that, if he’d dropped Victor off at his own house, he wouldn’t just head back out and get himself into more trouble.
So he put Victor in the spare room, the one that had once been his daughter Olivia’s bedroom, and where, Walden suspected, Victor had probably slept on more than one occasion when he was seeing Olivia, when Walden and his wife had been out to dinner or out of town.
It was a long time since anything like that had bothered Walden. Back then, he’d suspected his daughter and Victor were having sex, and he couldn’t say he was happy about it at the time, but he and Beth had been young once, too, and it wasn’t as if they’d waited for their wedding night.
You couldn’t run your kids’ lives, he told himself. It was hard enough when they were in their teens, but once they were adults, all bets were off. You could let them know you were there for them, but if you tried to tell them what to do, well, you might as well try teaching a goat how to drive a tractor.
Walden was in the garage out back of the house, tending to a few things, when he saw movement in the kitchen window. He returned to the house to find that Victor was up, hair tousled, eyes dark and heavy lidded.
“I wondered where the hell I was,” he said, his voice sounding as if it were coming through a can of gravel. “When I opened my eyes I knew I wasn’t home. I don’t even remember you bringing me here last night.”
“You were pretty out of it,” Walden said.
“I know where you found me. I remember that. But not a lot else.”
“You were about to get yourself beat up good.”
“What was I doing?”
Walden shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. There’s still coffee. Should be hot. You should have some.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, and disappeared back into the house. Walden went in after him, poured him some coffee.
“Just black,” Victor said, taking the mug from Walden. “I feel kinda like shit.”
“You look kinda like shit.”
Victor grinned, took a sip.
“Victor, I know this is none of my business, but I’m gonna put my oar in anyway.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he said.
“You’re a bright guy. I mean, you always were. Good at school. You picked up stuff fast. Good with your hands, as I recall. Mechanically inclined, but book-smart, too.”
“A real whiz kid,” he said, nodding.
“What I’m saying is, you’ve got something to offer. You have skills. There’s got to be someone in town here who could use those. But you have to stop getting wasted every night.”
“You been spying on me?”
“No, I’m just — I’m making an assumption. But tell me I’m wrong.”
Victor set his coffee on the counter. “Why aren’t you upset?”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t get it. Why aren’t you a mess like I am? She was your fucking daughter.”
Walden came at him like a cannonball. He grabbed the man by his jacket, yanked him close to his face, then threw him up against the counter. Victor’s head flung back, hit the upper cupboards, rattled dishes. But Walden wasn’t finished. He grabbed hold of Victor again with everything he had, and this time threw him down onto the floor.
He was some three decades older than Victor, but Walden had no trouble throwing the man around. Maybe it helped that he was angry, and Victor was hungover.
“Never!” Walden shouted. “Never say that!” He brought back a leg and kicked Victor in the thigh. The younger man pulled in on himself, put his hands up over his head in case Walden’s shoe connected with him there next.
“I’m sorry! Jesus! I’m sorry!”
“You think you’re the only one who grieves?” Walden said, still shouting. “Goddamn your arrogance, you little shit.”
“Okay! I didn’t mean it!”
Walden collapsed into a kitchen chair, rested his arms on the table, and worked on catching his breath. Slowly Victor got to his feet, pulled out a chair on the other side of the table, and sat down.
“I was out of line,” he said.
Walden’s hands were shaking.
“Really. That was wrong. I should never have said anything like that. You’re a good man. I know you miss her. You’ve always been good to me. What you did for me last night, bringing me here, I appreciate that. That was real decent of you.”
Walden looked at his hands, put one over the other to stop the trembling. Slowly he spoke.