Family Honor - Robert B Parker

by Parker

  "Yes," I said.

  Brian's face was tight, and his eyes were flat. He wasn't liking this conversation either.

  "Richie?" he said.

  "Yes."

  Brian scratched Rosie's chin with his toe. I'm sure he wasn't aware that he did it.

  "You together again?"

  "No."

  "Then ... ?"

  "We're not apart enough either," I said.

  "Don't you think maybe you ought to come to some terms with that?" Brian said.

  "Yes."

  "But you haven't."

  "Not yet," I said.

  "He was very helpful to you through this bad patch with Kragan and all," Brian said.

  "Yes."

  "Don't be fooled by gratitude," Brian said. Inodded.

  "I hope I'm not."

  Brian drank some coffee. The lines at the corners of his mouth had deepened.

  "Well, people don't love you just because you want them to," he said.

  "I know."

  "We did have fun," he said.

  "Yes," I said. "We did, and if it stayed fun, it could have gone on. I can have fun without Richie. But it was becoming more than fun. And I'm not sure I can have more than fun with anyone but Richie."

  "Well," Brian said, "if you find that you can, check with me, see if I'm free."

  "You're a very lovely man, Brian. You deserve more than I have available right now."

  "I'd settle for what you have," he said.

  "I know," I said. "That's the sad part. But we both know it wouldn't work out. Once you had it you'd want more, and you'd have a right to more, and there wouldn't be more, and ... it would be bad."

  Brian stood.

  "You're right," he said. "I wish you weren't, but I'm too old to pretend you're not."

  I stood with him. And put my arms around his waist. He kissed me. And we stood in that embrace for a while.

  "I hope you and Richie work it out," he said. "Either way. I hope you settle it."

  His voice was hoarse. I nodded. I was too close to crying to say anything. He stepped away from me and went to the door and opened it.

  "See you around, Sunny Randall," he said.

  And the door closed behind him. Rosie sniffed vigorously at it, her tail wagging fast, as Brian went down the stairs.

  CHAPTER 59

  I sat back down at the counter in my kitchen and looked at the empty coffee cups for a time. Millicent got off the bed, left the newspaper in a disorganized pile, and came and sat down at the counter beside me. Neither of us said anything for a bit. Rosie joined us, looking up from the floor, and thumping her tail. "Cathal Kragan is dead," I said.

  "Brian told you that?"

  "Yes."

  "Who killed him?"

  "Albert Antonioni," I said.

  "Good."

  We sat quietly some more. The loft was quiet.

  Finally Millicent said, "You broke up with him."

  "Yes," I said. "Could you hear?"

  "Some," Millicent said.

  "I hope it didn't embarrass you," I said.

  "No," Millicent said. "I'm glad I heard."

  "Because?" I said.

  "Because it was so nice. You didn't yell at each other. You were both nice to each other even if it wasn't working out."

  "You understand why it wasn't working out?"

  "You're still in love with Richie."

  I wanted to say no, it's more complicated than that, but maybe it wasn't. Maybe that's all there was to it. Which was a lot. "I guess," I said.

  "It'll work out," she said.

  "Wait a minute," I said, "who's looking out for whom?"

  "Whom?"

  "Yes," I said. "Whom."

  We both smiled a little.

  "What about me?" Millicent said.

  "What about you?"

  "Well, you got rid of Brian," she said. "And that man Cathal is dead. What are you going to say to my father and mother about me?"

  "Your father has agreed to fund a trust for your support and education with me as trustee," I said.

  "Explain that to me," she said.

  "I decide how much money you can have and for what. He has no say about it."

  "He wouldn't do that. Why did he say he would?"

  "Because your mother and I can ruin him if he doesn't," I said.

  "Would you?"

  "You bet."

  "Would she?"

  "Yes."

  "You want me to go back and live with them?"

  "No," I said. "There's no them, anyway. Your mother has left your father."

  "Really?"

  I nodded.

  "Good," Millicent said. "Can I stay with you?"

  "Yes," I said. "But here's how I'd like to see it work. My friend Julie will get you an appointment with a good psychiatrist, and you'll see him or her for as long as we all think you should."

  "Who's 'we'?"

  "Me, you, and the shrink," I said.

  "You think there's something wrong with me?"

  "You can't have lived the life you've led without needing to fix some things," I said.

  "Like what?"

  "That's for you and the shrink to decide," I said.

  "Maybe you and Richie ought to go," Millicent said, and the shadow of a smile passed across her small face.

  "Probably," I said.

  "What about my mom and dad?"

  "Your father's job is to fund the trust. He does that, we have no need to see him further, unless you want to."

  Millicent shook her head.

  "Your mother will also see a shrink," I said. "Same one?"

  "No."

  "I gotta see her?"

  "NO."

  "Good."

  "But remember that, in the end, horrible as she has been, when she understood that she was putting your life in danger, she came down out of the trees."

  Millicent nodded. There was no warmth in the nod.

  "I don't like her," Millicent said.

  "I don't blame you. What I'd like, though, if you could, would be that you'd agree to let her visit you maybe once in a while for an hour."

  "No."

  "With me present," I said. Millicent shook her head.

  "Okay. Maybe later you'll change your mind." I smiled. "It's supposed to be our prerogative."

  "Who?"

  "Women," I said.

  "Yes.

  "Like us," Millicent said. "

  She sat for a long time staring at the countertop. "I guess I'll do it if you think I should," she said.

  "I do," I said. "But sooner or later you're going to have to decide things because you think you should."

  "How can I do that," Millicent said. She raised her head and stared straight at me. Her eyes were glistening with tears. "I don't know anything."

  "You know one of the hard things about being a woman," I said, "is having some built-in compass that doesn't depend on others."

  "I don't know what you mean," Millicent said.

  "When you're talking to a male," I said. "And you want to urge him to do the right thing you can say, 'Be a man.' "

  Millicent nodded. Her eyes still shiny. No tears ran. But they didn't go away either.

  "That implies some rules of behavior that come from inside," I said. "But if I tell you that maybe your goal is to be a woman, that implies what? Being compassionate? Being a good caregiver? Being sexually attractive? Cooking well?"

  I was surprised at what I was saying, and how strongly I was saying it. I felt like Simone de Beauvoir.

  "Being a woman implies being in a male context," I said. "Being a man implies being fully yourself. You understand what I'm saying?"

  "I don't know," Millicent said. The tears that had filled her eyes were running down her face now. She bent over and picked Rosie up and held her in her lap and hugged her. Rosie lapped Millicent's face. Yum. Salt.

  "I guess," Millicent said with her voice shaking, "I just want to be like you, Sunny."

  For a moment I thought I migh
t cry, too. "Excellent choice," I said.

  I leaned forward and put my arms around her. It gave Rosie a chance to lap both our faces. Which she did.

  CHAPTER 60

  We were naked and profoundly contumescent. In the darkness, in Richie's bed, we lay together with his arm around my shoulder and my head against his chest. "A long time coming," Richie said.

  "Nice choice of words," I said.

  "You know what I mean."

  "Yes," I said.

  "Where do we go from here?"

  "I wish I knew."

  "I know some things we don't want to do," Richie said.

  "Like?"

  "Like rush out and get married."

  "No," I said. "We don't want to do that."

  "Doesn't mean we won't do it again someday."

  "Well," I said. "We did it once."

  I couldn't see his face in the darkness, but I could feel Richie smile.

  "What would you like?" Richie said.

  I was quiet. I felt the way Millicent must have. What in God's name did I want?

  "I want to live the way I do," I said. "Alone?"

  "Alone, paint, be a detective, take care of Rosie, get my degree."

  "Okay," Richie said.

  "I don't need your permission," I said. Again in the dark I could feel him smile.

  "No," he said. "You don't."

  "I can't imagine a life for me," I said, "that doesn't have you in it."

  "Good "

  I remembered it all as I lay there. How his skin smelled, how the hair on his chest felt, how his beard scraped a little even if he had just shaved. I felt the stillness in him.

  "I can't imagine," I said again.

  "I could be your boyfriend," Richie said. "Exclusive?" I said.

  "Why don't we let each of us decide how we want to be," Richie said.

  Jesus Christ. He had never said anything like that before. I was very careful.

  "You mean I could date somebody else?" I said.

  "Yes," he said. "I could, too."

  I felt the shimmer of jealousy tingle through my chest.

  "I don't know if that will work," I said.

  "If it doesn't we'll modify it," Richie said. "Be good to start this time with no rules."

  "You were the one with the rules last time," I said.

  "Now I'm not," Richie said.

  Richie's place was on the waterfront. In the stillness I could hear the movement of the ocean outside the picture window. "Remember how we used to go out every Wednesday night?"

  Yes.

  "We could do that."

  "Yes."

  "And spend the weekends together," I said. "Like we used to?"

  "That would work for me," Richie said. "And what happens other days?" I said. "Don't ask, don't tell."

  "Think this will work?"

  "We'll make it work. I can't imagine life without you either." I rolled up onto his chest and put my lips so they brushed his.

  "You're smart for a gangster," I said.

  "I'm not a gangster."

  "You're smart anyway," I said.

  "Smarter than I was," Richie said.

  Then I kissed him and closed my eyes, and the darkness was all there was.