“Hey, man. How’ve you been?”
Erik shook his hand and indicated the bar stool next to him. The bartender brought him another Diet Coke and he nodded his thanks. “I’m pretty good, man. Pretty good. How about you? How’s Anita? Cora?”
Mendez sat. “Both good.” To the bartender he said, “Corona please,” then again to Erik, “Yeah, Cora’s getting big. She can hold her head up on her own.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Yup, Anita’s pleased as all hell. And she smiles now—that’s my favorite, seeing her smile. Nothing like it since...well, Anita’s smile.”
Erik took a swig of his Diet Coke. “That’s great, man. I’m glad to hear it.”
“You holding up okay?” he asked again.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure man.”
Mendez, who was used to reading tones under tone and words between the lines, thought that might have been the only insincere thing he’d said so far, but let it go.
“And Casey?”
Erik beamed, blushing a little. “She’s pregnant. Nine weeks. We found out yesterday.”
“Really? Congratulations! That’s great! When’s she due?”
“March, looks like.”
“I’m really happy for you both. Hey, Casey babysat for us—maybe we can return the favor.”
The two lapsed into silence. Mendez found the same happened with Anita, when conversation even so much as skirted the edge of what had happened.
“You’re gonna love being a dad,” Mendez said.
“I hope I’m at least somewhat good at it.”
Mendez smiled. “No worries, man. You go by instinct and do the best you can. Same as—” he stopped himself from saying “Same as you’ve done before, same as you’ve always done” and instead said, “Same as all dads do. You’ll be fine.”
Erik nodded. “Thanks.” After finishing off his Diet Coke, he surprised Mendez by saying, “I’m scared. Of bringing a baby into this world.”
“Well, I think all new parents are.”
“No,” Erik shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean this world, considering...what’s out there. Beyond it.” He turned to Mendez. “What if they come back?”
Mendez’s glance swept around the bar, determined no one was listening to them, and said, “They can’t. They were torn apart. I saw it.”
“And others?”
“They won’t. After what we did to the three strongest? Even the dumbest animals give up on a thing if they keep getting bitten. And really, if they won’t come, what else would? What else even could?”
Erik looked at him as if he’d melted a weight off his shoulders. “You’re probably right.”
“You know it, man,” he said, clapping a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “You’ve been worrying about things for a long time. I think it’s time you started enjoying yourself. You’ve earned it. Go home to your wife, and your baby growing inside her. Go home to your house. Let the worry go.”
Erik nodded at him. “Seriously, man, thank you. I just...thanks.”
“Any time, amigo. Any time.” He finished off his beer and set the bottle down on the bar. “And now, I’m gonna hit the road.”
“Really, Mendez? Want one more? Bird can’t fly on one wing and all.”
“Nah, I’ve got to get going. Anita’s had the baby all day and I need to get back. Plus, I have a call to make that shouldn’t really wait any longer.”
“Okay, man, take care. Give the girls my best.” Erik shook his hand again. Mendez was glad to see his grip was a little stronger than it had been when he’d arrived.
“You too, man. Take care.” At the door, he glanced back once. Erik was staring off into the space over his drink again, but this time, he was smiling.
***
Mendez waited in the dark of his car in the parking lot of Olde Mill Tavern as the phone drilled off rings. He knew she’d still be up at this hour; she always was.
Another ring.
He’d waited until he was sure—as sure as he could possibly be, given the circumstances. He hadn’t wanted to let her down, for Steve’s sake.
Another ring. A brief flicker, not quite of panic or confusion, but something in his chest....
One more ring and then she answered. The flicker snuffed out. “Hello, Latin love machine. To what do I owe this late-night call? Shall I pour myself a glass of wine and get out my dictionary of phone sex terms?”
He laughed. “Hi, Eileen. How’s my girl?”
“Good, baby. So what’s up?”
“Just wanted to tell you,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I made it right. No questions, no details. But yeah. I made it right. For Steve.”
On the other end of the phone came a sigh of relief. “For Steve,” she said in a heavy, contented voice, and Mendez guessed there were probably tears in her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you, Bennie.”
“Good night, Eileen.”
“Good night, sweetness.”
Mendez started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Inside the bar, there was light and noise and everyday folks drinking away the problems of the world. Outside, there was quiet in the cooling night, and a faint smell of ozone. The air crackled, and in a small clearing, the edges of the air fluttered in the light breeze. It was new, still tucked away from human eyes, one of many in the off-the-path places where the edges of universes brushed in the Convergence, wore thin, and tore open, but there were no Hollowers to pass through it.
No Hollowers, but there were others yet. Many others.
The Triumvirate Page 23
