“So now you’re happy. That’s a lot to be grateful for.”
“I am.” Her thoughts flew back to Lucas … and the hearing. Alejandro watched the transitions in her eyes, and moved quickly to bring her back to the easy chatter of the last hour.
“How come you don’t play the harp? Aren’t heiresses supposed to?” He was all innocence.
“No, that’s angels. They’re the ones who play the harp.”
“You mean they’re not the same thing?”
She threw back her head and laughed at the thought. “No, darling. They are most emphatically not the same thing. I do play the piano, though. That’s a prerequisite for your heiress wings. A few play the violin, but most of us tackle the piano at an early age, and give it up by the time we’re twelve. Chopin.”
“I still kind of wish you could play the harp.”
“Up your ass, Mr. Vidal.” She grinned and he feigned shock.
“Kezia! And you’re an heiress? How shocking! Up my … what?”
“You heard me, mister. Now come on, let’s go home. Lucas will worry.” They slipped into their coats, he left the tip on the table, and they walked out into the cold air, arm in arm. The afternoon had been well spent. She felt restored.
When they got home, Luke was waiting in the living room, bourbon in hand and with a smile on his face.
“Well, what have you two been up to?” He liked to see them together, but Kezia noticed something pinched about his eyes. Jealousy?
“We went out for a cup of hot chocolate.”
“A likely story. But I’ll forgive you both. This time.”
“That’s big of you, darling.” Kezia walked to his side and bent to kiss him.
He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and winked at Alejandro, as he slid his arm around her waist. “Why don’t you get our friend a beer?”
“Probably because he’d throw up after all the hot chocolate he drank … mit schlag!” She grinned over at Alejandro.
“What’s that?” Luke’s voice sounded unusually loud. As though he was terribly nervous.
“Whipped cream.”
“Puke. Nah, get him a beer.”
“Lucas …” She wondered suddenly if he had something to say to Alejandro, he looked so odd—and a little bit crocked.
“Go on.”
“Kezia looked at him strangely and then turned to Alejandro. “You want a beer?”
Their friend threw up both hands and shrugged. “No, but with a dude that size, who argues?” All three of them laughed and Kezia vanished into the kitchen.
She called back over her shoulder as she flicked on the light. “I’ll make you coffee. I can’t stand the idea of beer after all that good chocolate.”
“Right on.” Alejandro sounded distracted as he answered and Kezia wondered what was afoot. Lucas had the look of a small boy. Or the look of a man with a secret. She grinned to herself, wondering if it was something to do with her. Maybe a present, something silly, an outing, a dinner. Luke was like that. She wouldn’t allow herself to wonder if it was something to do with the hearing. It couldn’t be. He looked much too pleased with himself, and a little bit punchy.
She went back to the living room a few moments later with the coffee. Two cups. Luke looked as if he could use one.
“Look at that, man, she wants to sober us up.” Luke’s tone was jovial, but Alejandro didn’t look as if he needed sobering. He looked tense and unhappy, as though something drastic had happened in the moments she was out of the room. Kezia looked at his face, then at Luke’s, and then she put down the two cups and sat down on the couch.
“Okay, sweetheart, game’s over. What’s up?” Her voice was light and nervous and brittle, and her hands had begun to tremble. It was something to do with the hearing. It wasn’t anything fun after all. Now she could tell. “What’s wrong?”
“Why the hell should something be wrong?”
“For one thing,” she cast a glance away from him, and apologetically at their friend, “if you’ll forgive me,” and then she turned back to Luke, “because you’re drunk, Lucas. How come?”
“I am not.”
“You are. And you look scared. Or pissed. Or something. And I want to know what the hell’s happening. You told Al, now tell me.”
“What makes you think I told Al anything?” Now he looked visibly nervous, and Kezia was beginning to look angry.
“Look, dammit! Don’t play games with me. I’m having just as tough a time coping with all this crazy bullshit as you are. Now tell me! What’s wrong?”
“Oh, for chrissake. Will you listen to that, Al?” He looked around at them both with a plastic smile on his face, and crossed one leg over the other and then back again, while Alejandro looked very upset.
Kezia looked from Lucas to him. “Okay, Alejandro, will you tell me what’s going on?” Her voice was rising to an uncomfortable level, nearing hysteria. But Lucas broke in with a look of impatience, and pushed himself forcefully out of his chair, growing instantly pale as he stood.
“Just keep it together, Mama. And I’ll tell you myself.” But as he turned to face her the room swam, and he sank almost to his knees. Alejandro rushed to his side and took the half-empty glass from his hand. Most of the bourbon had sloshed into the carpet, and Luke’s face was now frighteningly pale.
“Take it easy, brother.” He supported him with one arm, as Kezia rushed to his side.
“Lucas!” Her eyes were frantic as Luke sat down heavily on the floor next to her, and rested his head on his knees. He was drunk and in shock. But slowly he turned his face toward her with a gentle expression.
“Mama, it’s no big deal. Someone tried to shoot me today. They missed by an inch.” He closed his eyes on the last words, as though afraid of her eyes.
“Someone what?” She held his face with both her hands and slowly he looked up at her again. It had not yet registered in her face.
“Someone tried to kill me, I guess, Kezia. Or scare the piss out of me. Either way, but everything’s cool. I’m just a little punchy, that’s all.”
She thought instantly of Morrissey now, and knew Lucas had too. “My God … Lucas … who did it?” She was sitting next to him, trembling, and her stomach felt as though it were riding a wave.
“I don’t know who. Hard to tell.” He shrugged and suddenly looked very tired.
“Come on, man, let’s get you to bed.” Alejandro helped him slowly to his feet, and he wasn’t sure if he should be supporting Lucas or Kezia. She looked almost worse. “Can you make it, Luke?”
“Are you kidding? I’m not hurt, man. I’m gassed.” He chuckled proudly for a moment, as he walked into the bedroom. Alejandro shook his head with a worried frown on his face, as Kezia settled Luke against the pillows. “For chrissake, Kezia, I’m not dying. Don’t overdo it. And get me another drink, will you?”
“Should you?”
He laughed at the question and crossed both eyes with a grin. “Oh Mama, should I!” The smile she returned to him was her first in ten minutes, but she could feel her knees shaking as she sank onto the edge of the bed.
“My God, Lucas, how did it happen?”
“I don’t know. I went up to talk to some guys in Spanish Harlem today, and we were walking down the street after the meeting and whap, someone almost winged me. The motherfucker must have been aiming for my heart, but he took lousy aim.”
Kezia sat staring at him in shocked disbelief. It could have been like Morrissey. He could have been dead. There were chills on her spine as she thought of it.
“Anyone else knew about the meeting?” Alejandro looked frightened as he continued to stand there and look at his friend.
“A few people.”
“How few?”
“Not few enough.”
“Oh God, Lucas … who did it?” Suddenly Kezia’s head was bowed and she was sobbing as she sat there. Luke leaned forward and circled her with his right arm, pulling her toward him.