Joel Goldman - Shakedown

Exhausted, he fell into bed. Latrell had planned to go to the cave tonight to make certain that everything was in order there as well, but he had to be at work in five hours and he was too tired. He’d go tomorrow night, probably sleep there in case any more FBI agents came knocking.

As he was falling asleep, he replayed his conversation with the agent. No doubt about it, the agent had suspected nothing. Latrell would have been able to tell. Still, it bothered him that they kept coming back to talk with him. Maybe they would leave him alone if he remembered something. Maybe the man the agent said had been seen running away. But not the woman. Definitely not the woman.

Joy’s car was parked in front of my house when Ruby and I got home. It was a Hyundai Sonata. We were basic-transportation people, not?ashy-car people. There was a crease in the front fender from a too-close encounter she’d had with the center post in the garage. It had prompted one of the last fights we had had about her drinking before she left. “You don’t have to be a drunk to hit the garage,” she had shouted at me. “No, but it makes it a lot easier,” I had shouted back. By the end, we were shouting people, not talking people.

She still had a key to the house. I hadn’t changed the locks. It wore me out to see her car there.

Ruby?ew through the door from the garage into the house like she knew she was home, finding Joy in the kitchen before I did.

“Well, who are you?” I heard Joy ask. “Aren’t you the gorgeous dog?”

I found them on the?oor, Joy cross-legged, Ruby lapping at her face.

“It didn’t take you long to replace me, did it?” she said with a laugh, cuffing Ruby, who instantly rolled over on her back and offered up her belly.

Joy stood, brushing the wrinkles from her jeans. The lines in her face seemed to have softened and the gloom in her eyes was gone, a?icker of life taking its place. I hadn’t seen her since we’d separated, all of our communications passing through our lawyers or our daughter. I wasn’t certain, but her hair looked shorter, shaped differently, and colored a shade lighter.

“The dog and I are just friends,” I said. “You look different-in a good way.”

She smiled at my compliment. “Thank you, I think.”

We looked at each other, not talking, the dog racing in and out of each room, back to the kitchen, doing circles around us.

“So,” she said.

“So.”

“Thanks for not changing the locks.”

“Wasn’t necessary. What’s the occasion? Something you need to pick up?”

Joy swept her hair behind her ears with both hands, turning her head to the side, then releasing her hair. It was a gesture she’d used as long as I’d known her, a prelude to an unpleasant conversation.

“Wendy called. She’s pretty upset.”

I let out a long breath, the reason for Joy’s visit now clear. “I know. I really blew it, inviting Kate to dinner without giving Wendy any advance warning.”

Joy’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows rising off the charts. “Tell me you’re kidding? You didn’t really do that.”

It was my turn to be surprised. “I wish I was. I thought that’s why you were here, to tell me what a lousy father I am.”

She chewed her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest.

“Nothing is easy with you, Jack. Wendy didn’t say a word

about Kate. That’s not why she called.”

I felt the fool again, heat rising in my neck. “Then what?”

The shaking started as the words left my mouth. I bent over, cursing between clenched teeth, waiting for the contraction to release me. Joy kept her distance, turning away until I could stand. When she looked at me again, her eyes were wet.

“That,” she said.

“It will pass.”

“From the looks of it, like a kidney stone.”

I caught my breath and laughed, not able to remember the last time she’d told a joke. “I see that you’ve been practicing your stand-up routine.”

“Actually, I’ve been practicing my sobriety routine. Fifty days as of today. My AA counselor gave me a gold star.”

The last time she’d tried AA, she stayed sober for a record 148 days, falling off the wagon on Kevin’s birthday. That was three years ago. The binge that followed wiped out that record with a vengeance. I was stunned but cautious, having seen her go down this road before.

“That’s great. One day at a time, right?”

“First thing they teach you.”

“Well, good for you. Keep it up.”

She stuck her hands in her jeans pockets. “I intend to. How long have you been like this?”

“A couple of months, but I’m not like this all the time. Sometimes, it’s nothing more than a shiver and I can go long stretches without anything happening.”

“Long stretches meaning like days or hours?”

I hesitated a moment, not wanting to concede. “Hours.”

“What are we going to do about you?”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got an appointment at KU Hospital. They’ll give me a pill or a shot or something and I’ll be as good as new.”

“In November. Wendy told me. I’m certain she wasn’t pleased that you invited Kate to dinner, but all she could talk about was that you needed to see a doctor right away and what were she and I going to do about it. Those people at KU will give you the runaround, the once-over, and tell you to take it easy after making you wait two months for the privilege.”

Joy had tried every doctor and medical center in every city we’d lived in for every malady she’d had or thought she’d had. She didn’t like any of them because she didn’t like what they told her: quit drinking. KU Hospital was no exception, though I couldn’t remember who she’d seen there or why. On the plus side, she knew practically every doctor in town.

“They’ve got a good movement disorder clinic. I’m on the cancellation list. I’ll probably get in to see someone sooner than two months.”

“No, you won’t. I checked. You are number sixty-three on the waiting list. A lot of people have to die if you are going to get in before November.”

“What do you mean you checked?” I asked, my voice rising with my irritation.

“Calm down, Jack. Wendy was so upset. I had to do something. I called the clinic and told them I was your wife, which I still am, legally, that is.”

I looked at my watch. It was nine-thirty, three hours since I’d seen Wendy.

“You’re telling me the clinic is open at night?”

“As a matter of fact, it isn’t. But I got a hold of the chief neurology resident and browbeat him into having the appointment secretary call me back. She was very nice about the whole thing, but said there was nothing she could do about your appointment. Even said you were lucky to have a wife like me. I spared her the details.”

“You are unbelievable!” My annoyance was giving way to grudging admiration.

“I didn’t use to think so. Now, I’m willing to consider the possibility.”

Her purse was on the kitchen counter. She opened it and handed me a slip of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Your schedule. I made an appointment for you to see Dr. Carl Winters. He’s the best neurologist in town according to his wife, who’s in my AA group. You’ll see him on Monday morning at ten. He’s in the St. Luke’s Medical Building. He wants you to have an MRI of your entire spine, with and without contrast media, and an MRI of your brain before he sees you. You’ll get the MRIs done by the radiology group he uses. They’ve got offices all over town. There’s one in Overland Park and one on the Plaza next to the library. Take your pick, but you’ve got to let them know in the morning. They are working you in as a favor to Dr. Winters, so don’t get pissy if you have to wait a few minutes. Wendy will go with you on Monday but she and I decided that you can get the films done by yourself.”