Эд Горман - Riders on the Storm

After the tacos, after the girls told me what they’d done during the day, after the one scoop of Rocky Road ice cream we each got, after Kate showed me the drawing of me she’d done, after Nicole showed me the drawing of me she’d done (I loved them both, even if Nicole’s more resembled a human being though not necessarily me), after they were trotted in to take their baths, after they trotted out themselves in their nightshirts, after I read them Charlie and the Chocolate Factory , after they took a turn at drama protesting bedtime, after they told Mommy that it was me who should put them to bed, after they persuaded me to tell them a story (not half bad if I do say so myself), after I turned their light out, after they peppered me with more questions as I made my way to their door, after I made a pit stop and after I wandered back to the living room, I said, “I’m really happy they like me as much as they do, but I guess I don’t quite understand why.”

“I’m so tired by the end of the day I’m not always a lot of fun. And they love playing with you. Plus you’re sweet with them. And it got so bitter by the time of our divorce. They really appreciate a man who is nice to their mom. Poor Nicole saw her father kissing the woman he was cheating with. He’d taken her along with him to pick up some things at the store. Then he apparently couldn’t control himself and drove over to see the woman. He went inside her house and stayed longer than he apparently realized. Nicole had to go to the bathroom very badly. So she just followed where he’d gone. The house had a side door, a glass one, and when Nicole got up to it there was her dad and this woman really making out. She’s never gotten over it. I sent her to a counselor. The counselor said she’s making progress. I guess I’ve talked about you so much in the last year or so the kids couldn’t wait to meet you. You’re fun and easygoing, Sam. You know how my ex is. Control freaks don’t have much fun in life. They’re always worrying that there’s somebody who’s doing something they wouldn’t approve of. Then one night he hit me very hard in the face.”

“What? He hit you?”

“With his full fist. I had a big bruise on my left cheek. He knocked me to the floor and I think I was unconscious for a minute or so. I remember Nicole kissing me and kissing me and screaming for me to wake up. Kate was just sobbing. They really turned against him after that. But I feel so sorry for them; they’re conflicted. As much as they think they hate him they still love him. That’s what’s so terrible about divorce. All the conflicts kids develop.”

“Remind me to deck that bastard the next time I see him.”

“That’s what we need, Sam. More violence.”

I laughed. “Well, he sure as hell has it coming.”

“How about you shut up and we just watch TV?”

We were on the couch. She was in my arms. We were idly watching The Glen Campbell Show . Enjoying it at one remove as we necked and vaguely fooled around. I liked her looks, her flesh, her scents and most especially I liked her.

When the phone rang we had to untangle and she grabbed it with a thumb and two fingers from the table next to the couch.

“Hello.” Then, “Yes, he’s right here.”

She handed me the receiver and then stood up to smooth down her Levi’s and straighten her blouse. Without a bra she had become my goddess.

“Hello.”

Lindsey Shepard. “Randall and Chief Foster are in with Will now. He’s talking semi-coherently.”

“What changed since this afternoon?”

“There’s no way of knowing. I need to tell you something that you won’t like. Chief Foster was very gentle with him but he did ask the questions he normally would in an interrogation. And when he talked about Donovan dying Will broke down. Sobbing. He just kept saying he didn’t mean to kill Donovan. Chief Foster took that as a confession but I’m not sure it is. Will is so confused we had to remind him of his name a few times.”

“He didn’t kill Donovan.”

“I know, Sam, I’m on your side. I’m trying to help Will but Foster’s trying to put him in prison. I was against allowing Foster in here until we’d spent more time with Will but he insisted and finally Randall gave in and said all right.”

“I wish Randall had held out longer.”

“Foster puts on a good front. He pretends he’s so easygoing and understanding, but when I watched him with Will this afternoon I saw the predator side of him. He stayed calm and he even apologized to Will a few times. But it was all part of his act. He’s a master at head games. He led Will right into saying that he didn’t mean to kill Donovan. You should have heard him. He started talking about the girl Will had killed in Vietnam and then he asked Will how he would feel if he knew that some people thought he’d also killed Donovan. Very clever. He kept working that until Will broke down and said what he said.” Fatigue was her tone of voice now. She’d been there most of the day and what a day it had been. Getting nowhere and then Will suddenly speaking only to implicate himself in the killing.

“I’d better go now, Sam. Randall and I need to go home. Doctor Rattigan gave Will a heavy-duty sleeping pill.”

“I hope someday Will’ll be able to realize all you’ve done for him, Lindsey.”

“How about you, Sam? Look what you’re doing for him.”

“Right now that feels like very little.”

“All we can do is keep working, hoping.”

We said our good-nights.

Mary, who was standing over me, watched me replace the receiver and then handed me a cold bottle of Hamm’s. “So Will is talking?”

“Not making a lot of sense sometimes. And when he made a little bit of sense he implicated himself in Donovan’s killing.” The beer was magical elixir. I put the chilled bottle next to my forehead. I flashed on the military hospital, the headaches. If the mystical power of the icy glass against my head couldn’t stave one off, what could?

“Feel like messing around?”

“I hate to say it, but I’m wasted.”

She took my hand. “That’s fine, Sam. You’re not my gigolo.”

The image was so comic my groin responded faintly. “Well, for now let’s say that my last statement may be subject to revision.”

“I’m tired myself so either way is good for me. I enjoy just sitting here with you.”

I’d been involved three or four times in what I’d imagined were serious relationships but more and more I realized that this one was different. There was a comfort, an ease with Mary the other affairs had lacked. I’d always been afraid they would leave me, an anxiety that never quite disappeared. It wasn’t that I took Mary for granted — she could always leave me, too — but that I trusted her. I’d known her as a friend, even as a buddy sometimes, and as a substitute girlfriend to carry me through the worst patches with Pamela Forrest, and finally as a lover. I was just more relaxed now.

So we ended up in bed about twenty minutes later. There are numerous types of lovemaking. That night we created a new kind, exhausted sex. Short and sweet, followed with her spooning me and deep, deep sleep.

Anders had built his glass-and-wood faux manse on a hill overlooking a long stretch of meadow on the north end of town. Like a good detective, I’d brought along my binoculars so I could see if his Porsche was there. And it was.

I was parked on the gravel road that ran past his place. I knew an investigator who claimed that the only way to get through a stakeout was to jerk off. He liked to tell the story that one night he had three sessions with himself he was so bored. My stakeout was less rewarding. I thought about Gordon Niven, how he was doing. I’d lost sight of him in all the pressure of other things.