Now this old dog was gonna be a new daddy and God in His merciful omnipotence had orchestrated that his daughter appear at the door like a ghost in a play. He knew Marjorie had done the job for which he wasn’t man enough; she’d raised those kids alone. He could never give her enough credit. She had mothered and fathered them — how could he thank her, or express his profound remorse, his regret? Suddenly, he focused on the boy. I should have asked Joanie about him. Why didn’t I? I should have asked about Chester. Joan probably thought: The heartless old coot, he didn’t even ask about his son! But that wasn’t it, and he hoped she understood. He didn’t have it in him. It was enough just to look at her. Almost too much having her there, it sucked the air from his lungs, from the room. He was glad she had cried so much, not glad, that wasn’t the word, but it had been a good distraction for Ray to comfort her, easier than falling apart. No, he would have time, now he would, they would, all of them, it seemed God wanted them all to have time, that was His plan, time to learn everything they needed to know about one another and just about anything else. Like one of those reunion stories he devoured in People or Reader’s Digest. He would take his grown children to the Dining Car and knit everyone back together.
How amazing! All the while he’d been having funny dreams about Chester, but look who shows up at his door.
STANIEL Lake phoned to congratulate him on the settlement and Ray said, “Well, esteemed sir, you beat me to the punch. I was just going to call you.” He could tell from the detective’s tone that he was all right with it. Ray said to “keep it under your hat” because nothing had been “signed and sealed.” Mr Lake laughed and said that might be difficult. Meaning, somehow everyone already knew.
The old man explained about Ghulpa and the pregnancy — Staniel was genuinely surprised and thrilled for them — and how he didn’t hold anything against “the boys.” He let the lawyers be lawyers because he wanted protection for his new family. The detective said he had absolutely no hard feelings, that no one did. Hell, he said he’d have done the same thing and that meant a lot to Ray. That was big of him.
He extended the Pacific Dining Car invitation and the detective said his colleagues would be honored to break bread. Ray wanted to make sure Staniel invited everyone who’d busted into the house, including the rookies. Staniel laughed and said he would but that Ray might have “quite a bill.” The old man said not to worry, and began feeling upbeat for the 1st time in a while. Clean. He wasn’t a user, and prided himself on doing the right thing. It particularly gave him pleasure to express gratitude when least expected — something which seemed to have gone out of style. Ray liked to think of it as one of his better traits, his faith in the essential goodness of people, he was an optimist about the human condition, he respected good intentions and longed to do kindnesses in return, except that he’d failed when it came to Marj and the kids, utterly and abysmally, and he knew it, but had to believe it was God’s plan to teach him the hard lessons that made him what he was today. Truly, man learns through adversity.
His thoughts drifted back to the Biltmore, and how Marjorie felt in his arms, fevered and new, her glittery eyes reflecting the festively lit runway of life as they taxied toward its mysteries. He recalled his fears that night as well, compulsively checking his wallet to make sure the trumpeter’s borrowed bills were still in place.
He’d really had a crush on that girl.
But Ghulpa, save the last dance for me.
LXXI.Chester
HIS mom had been home a few weeks, her jaw sealed shut. What an intense bummer. It freaked him out to see her like that but he grew accustomed. Wirecutters were kept in the bedroom and kitchen in case she spit up and they needed to clear an airway. That was standard. Otherwise, people in her situation could choke on their own vomit.
Chess saw more of his sister than he had in years. When Joan 1st told him about the scammers he exploded with rage. He wanted to get his hands on them, for real. He didn’t think anyone was pissed enough, including the cops.
Laxmi volunteered to help take care of Marj but his sister politely declined, having arranged for RNs during the day. Someone came to stay at night if Joan couldn’t herself. The feeling he got was that she didn’t trust him to sleep over, not alone anyway. That was cool. He’d rather not but the vibe was galling. Whatever. Let her do her princess controlly thing. He just wanted Mom to be comfortable — the woman had been through hell. If Joanie needed a lot of warm, hired bodies around, so be it. As long as they didn’t steal anything, no problemo. If he caught anyone stealing, heads were definitely gonna roll. There would be blood on the tracks. Still, he didn’t dig the posturing. She’d actually told Chess not to smoke weed “in front of the caregivers” and that was weird. Like that was his big plan. He started thinking Joan didn’t want him to spend the night for fear he was going to nod out while Mom aspirated or whatever. The thing that did bother him was Joan’s attitude toward Laxmi, who was nothing but a fucking Good Samaritan. Joan was a bit condescending, not that Laxmi even noticed, but Chester did, and he was ready to mix it up with little sis before realizing the whole thing was probably about age difference. What a drag it is getting old.
Laxmi was hot and Joan was not (so much anymore, anyway) — so he let it slide.
MARJ made sure someone continued going to Riki’s for lottery tickets chosen from the fortune cookie numbers. It was the highlight of her day. The doctors said that Marjorie was depressed (she was now on Adderall, which Chess cadged when he was bored: he thought he could make a killing with Speed Thrills T-shirts) and that whatever gave her pleasure was a good thing. If Joan or Chester couldn’t make it to the liquor store, Cora or one of the helpers went.
Mr P had taken a turn for the worse and was hospitalized again — if you listened to the neighbor, he was the Lance Armstrong of Doggie World. She was down in the dumps herself; running little errands and reading the tabloids aloud to Marj were pleasing distractions. She was a nice lady and all, and Chess could see how it cheered her up just to hang with someone who was so much more fucked. But that was cool. Just human nature. Even though he didn’t feel that way when he hung with Maurie.