“I know that. He’s a nice man.”
“And you’re a mooch. I know you can’t help yourself. I get that. Just do not mooch off him.”
“I don’t intend to stay at Henry’s more than a couple of days. As soon as I get a job, I’ll find a place of my own.”
“On your lavish minimum-wage income. Thank you for the reassurance. One reason I would have told you not to come is because you can’t afford it.”
“I’m here because of my dad. I’m not saying that’s the only reason, but I’d like to know what happened to him. Henry told me you’d been trying to find out, so I thought maybe we could talk about it sometime. If you have a minute.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Anyway, I apologize for not letting you know I was on my way.”
“I appreciate the apology.”
She sent me a tentative smile and I didn’t shut the door in her face. I said I’d see her later and waited until she was halfway back to Henry’s.
The studio smelled of the coffeepot that had been sitting far too long and I realized I’d neglected to turn off the machine before I’d left. I leaned across and flipped the switch, then looked over at the answering machine. The red message light blinked merrily. I slung my shoulder bag onto the desk and pressed play. Sure enough, it was Drew again with apologies for not catching me, like it was his fault I was gone. The call had been recorded a mere ten minutes earlier, so I punched in his number and held my breath, waiting to see if I was in luck.
Two rings and he picked up.
“Is that you, Drew? This is Kinsey Millhone.”
“Hey, great! I can’t believe I’m actually talking to you.”
We spent a few minutes congratulating ourselves on finally managing to connect and then we moved on to the subject at hand.
“We’re talking about five grand, right? Because that’s what I have.”
“Works for me,” I said. “It might take me a couple of days to find a replacement. What’s your time frame?”
“The sooner the better. My brother’s in town. He’s the one who had the 429 in high school. I told him about yours and he’s hot to get his hands on it.”
“How long will he be here?”
“A week. It’s not like the deal hangs on him, but if there’s a way to make this happen, it’d be great.”
“I’m right in the middle of something at the moment, but first chance I get, I’ll check a couple of car lots and see what’s out there. No promises, but I’ll do my best.”
“Understood. And thanks.”
The call completed, I did a quick survey to see what the cat was up to. I wasn’t used to having a small animal on the premises. Ed was wholly engaged in inspecting the underside of the sofa bed. A shred of upholstery lining was hanging down, so he had to lie on his back and play with it.
I said, “What were you doing in the yard? Aren’t you supposed to be inside?”
He turned his head in response to my query, looking at me briefly as though to determine if I was worthy of his attention. Apparently, I was. He came out from under the sofa, jumped up onto a kitchen stool, and then onto the counter, where he strolled to the end. He made a turn and came back, making a point of brushing up against me. In my presence, he’d never uttered a sound, but now he launched into a discourse. He pivoted and glided the other way, leaving white cat hair on the sleeve of my turtleneck.
“Oh, now you want to be friends,” I said. “I saw you sitting in Anna’s lap. Have you no shame?”
He sat down and made what I swear was meaningful eye contact.
“You want a bowl of milk? Is that it?”
I took out a saucer and poured a puddle of milk in the center. “This is exactly why I’ve never wanted a pet,” I said. “It’s worse than talking to myself.”
Daintily, he crossed and gave the milk a sniff, and then he leveled the double-0 stare with one green eye and one blue.
I sniffed it myself and sure enough, the milk was sour. He didn’t seem to blame me as much as I blamed myself. When a cat comes to call, it’s nice to have something to offer that isn’t past its sell-by date. While I sat, Ed allowed me the incredible privilege of giving his head a scratch.
There was a tap at the door. I left Ed where he was while I looked out the porthole. There stood Dietz.
When I opened the door, he said, “Can I come in?”
Oh, sure. Like I might refuse. I stepped back. His manner was tentative and I will promise you in that split second, I knew he was leaving. In my view, it’s a hell of a thing when one’s intuition about a guy is solely tied to his departure. “Let me guess,” I said.
“Don’t guess. Let me say this my way.”
“How about coffee first?”
“How about after I get this out?”
“By all means.”
I kept my expression neutral. I disengaged my emotional gears. We hadn’t connected at a deep level this time around. He’d been in town for three days yet here it was again. The perpetual bye-bye that seemed central to our entire relationship. I was thinking, thank god I didn’t sleep with the man or I’d have been in real pain. Even so, I was already suffering the loss of him, which I covered at no small cost to myself.
Dietz said, “Nick’s taken a leave of absence from work. I thought he was here to discuss the plan, but turns out it’s a done deal. He wants us to travel together and get to know each other. What was I supposed to say?”
“You say yes, of course.” I won’t say I sounded chipper, but anyone who didn’t know me well would have thought I was fine.
“It wasn’t my idea,” he said.
“Oh, come on. I’m not chiding you. Plan or no plan, he’s your kid.”
“Well, I appreciate that. I didn’t think you’d take it this well.”
“There you have it. Grown-up at last. So when do you go?”
“Nick’s not awake yet. We settled this last night and I said I’d have to talk to you first before we hit the road.”
Now, that hurt my feelings. There was something about the stinginess of the condition he’d laid out to his son. Yes, he’d take off with Nick. But no, he insisted on giving me my five minutes first.
I moved into the kitchenette and poured him a cup of coffee. I put the mug on the counter and pushed it in his direction.
“Thanks,” he said. He took a sip, watching me over the rim of the mug. He made a face and looked down. “How long has this been sitting?”
“I don’t want to make small talk.”
He set the coffee cup on the counter. “You’re not taking it well,” he said.
“Not taking it well at all,” I replied. “And I don’t want a hug. That makes you feel better and makes me feel like shit.”
“I’m not doing this to make you feel bad.”
“But that’s the effect it has on me anyway, okay? I feel like a whiny baby. I can live without the blow to my dignity.”
“You want me to go through the other boxes with you?”
“Like my consolation prize? No, thanks. I did that. I returned them to Ruthie and had a nice chat about Pete, whom she adored for the better part of forty years.”
“What do you want me to do?” he said. “I can’t change it now. I had no idea Nick would show up. How was I to know he’d want to go off on this field trip?”
“You couldn’t. Not your fault. It’s always going to be like this. I keep thinking I’ll learn to handle it, but I don’t.”
“Would it have been better if I never showed up at all?”
“It would be better if I didn’t care one way or the other.”
“But you do.”
“Yes.”
“Now, you see, that’s nice. I like it that you care.” He smiled and folded me into his arms, which of course made my face heat, my nose swell, and my eyes sting with tears.