Stuart Kaminsky - Retribution

I knew what I was going to do: drive to Pine View, leave the Taurus, and drive the minivan to Lonsberg’s. I’d get past whatever reporters and cameras happened to be there, say nothing, and hope I could get Lonsberg to open his gate so I could drive in. I didn’t want to talk to Lonsberg though I wouldn’t have minded seeing Jefferson. Maybe he would have another shell for me.

After a day or two I would call Laura. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to talk to a Lonsberg again in my life, but she deserved something from me. I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe a chance to thank me. Maybe a chance to say I had ruined her life.

“We’ve picked out a name for the baby,” said Flo. “Adele suggested Gus if it’s a boy but I don’t think that’s a good name.”

“No offense,” said Adele, “but I’m not too taken with the name Lewis.”

“I’ve gone through phases about it myself,” I said.

“So we came up with Ames,” said Flo.

“I want to be there when you tell Ames you’re naming a baby after him,” I said.

“You’ll be there, but we’re going to wait and see if it is a boy,” said Flo.

“We asked Sally if she had any ideas for girls’ names,” said Adele. She turned and looked up at me. “She came up with a good one, thought you’d like it.”

“And?” I asked.

“Catherine,” Adele said.

I sat next to Adele. I couldn’t stand. Catherine was my wife’s name. Sally and Ann Horowitz were the only ones I had mentioned it to.

“You all right?” Adele asked, putting her hand on my shoulder.

I turned my face to the water so she couldn’t see it.

“If you don’t like the name Catherine…” Adele began.

“No,” I said, holding back a threatened rush of confusion, gratitude, and tears. “It’s perfect.”