David Morrell: Long lost

"I'm not sure I like being linked with someone's hobby. Besides, you and your brother aren't twins."

"Granted. Even so, you know what I mean. Petey could have ended up like me, but he chose not to."

"You really think people have that much choice in their lives? You told me you never would have become an architect if it hadn't been for a geometry teacher you really liked in high school."

Wistful, I stared at moonlight streaming through our bedroom window. "Yeah, I sure was weird-the only kid in high school who liked geometry. To me, that teacher made the subject fascinating. He told me what I had to do, where to go to college and all, if I wanted to be an architect."

"Well, I seriously doubt that your brother had a geometry teacher. Did he even go to high school?" Kate asked.

"Somebody must have taught him something. He's awfully well spoken. I haven't heard a foul word from him."

Kate turned to face me, propping herself on an elbow. "Look, I'm willing to do all I can to help. If he wants to stay here for a while until he decides what to do next, that's fine with me."

"I was hoping you'd feel that way." I leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks."

"Is that the best way you can think of to thank me?" she asked.

I kissed her again, this time deeply.

"Far more sincere." She drew a hand up my leg.

"Mmm." It was the last sound for a while. The presence of a stranger in the house made us more self-conscious about being overheard. When we climaxed, our kiss was so deep that we swallowed each other's moans.

We lay silently, coming back to ourselves.

"If we get more sincere than that, I'll need to be resuscitated," I murmured.

"Mouth-to-mouth? "

"Brings me to life every time." Getting up to go to the bathroom, I glanced out the window. In the darkness, peering down toward the backyard, I saw something I didn't expect.

"What are you looking at?" Kate asked.

"Petey."

"What?"

"I can see him in the moonlight. He's down there in a lounge chair."

"Asleep?" Kate asked.

"No, he's smoking, staring up at the stars."

"Given everything that's happened, he probably couldn't sleep."

"I know how he feels."

"I'll tell you one thing," Kate said. "Anyone who's polite enough not to smoke in the house is welcome."

Although Petey had said that he enjoyed his life on the road, I was determined to make sure he enjoyed it even more by paying attention to a few basic matters: his appearance, for example. That chipped front tooth made a terrible first impression. I had a suspicion that Petey had been losing work because contractors he approached to hire him felt he looked like a troublemaker. So, the next morning, I phoned our family dentist, explained the situation, and got him to agree (for double his usual fee) to give up his lunch hour.

"Dentist?" Petey told me. "Hell no. I'm not going to any dentist."

"Just to smooth out that chip in your tooth. It's not going to hurt."

"No way. I haven't been to a dentist since I needed a back tooth taken out six years ago."

"Six years ago? Good God. All the more reason for you to have a checkup." I didn't tell him that the hygienist had agreed to give up her lunch hour, too.

Before that, I phoned several barbershops, until I found one that wasn't busy. Long hair-my own's hardly what you'd call short- doesn't have to look tangled and scruffy. After the barbershop, we bought some clothes. Not that I deluded myself into thinking that Petey could use dress slacks and a sport coat, but some new jeans and a nice-looking shirt wouldn't do any harm. After that, a shoe store: new work boots and sneakers.

"I can't accept all this," Petey said.

"I'm glad to do it. If you want, we'll call it a loan. Sometime, when you're flush, you can pay me back."

Then it was time for the dentist. Afterward, Petey's teeth looked great, although he had several cavities, the dentist said. They'd be taken care of when Petey went back in a couple of weeks. Petey's hair looked stylishly windblown. I was almost tempted to ask a plastic surgeon if anything could be done about the scar on Petey's chin. No matter, a little maintenance had accomplished a lot. He looked like he'd just gotten dressed after playing tennis.

"Hungry?"

"Always," Petey said.

"Yeah, I get the impression you've been missing a few meals lately. You could use about ten more pounds. Do you like Italian food?"

"You mean spaghetti and meatballs?"

"Sort of. But where we're going, spaghetti's called pasta, and the dishes have names like chicken marsala."

"Hold on a second."

"After lunch, I'm going to take you to see a man about a job."

"Brad… Stop____________________Hold it."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Don't you have work to do?" Petey asked. "You took yesterday afternoon off. This morning, you didn't go to work, either. Kate said you had appointments, meetings."

"None of it's as important as you."

"But you can't run a business that way, not and spend money on me the way you are. We have a lot to catch up on, but we don't have to do it all at once."

Petey's worried expression started me laughing. "You think I'm getting carried away?"

"Just a little."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Go to work. There's a park across the street. I'd like to hang out there for a while. Get my mind straight. All these changes. I'll meet you at home for supper."

"That's really what you want?" I asked.

"You've done enough for me."

"But how will you get home?"

"Hitchhike," Petey said.

"What if you don't get a ride?"

"Don't worry. I've got a knack for it." Petey's teeth looked great when he grinned.

"I have a better idea," I said. "Use my car. You can pick me up at the end of the day."

"Can't. I don't have a driver's license."

"That's something else we'll take care of."

"Tomorrow," Petey said.

"We're going to see about getting your glasses fixed, too."

"Right," Petey said. "Tomorrow."

Petey and Jason were cutting the lawn when I got home. The power mower was awkward for Jason, so Petey was walking beside him, helping him make the turns.

"Hey, look at me, Dad!" Jason yelled to be heard above the motor's roar.

I raised my thumb enthusiastically.

They stopped beside me.

"Can you control it, Jace?" Petey asked.

"I'm pretty sure."

"Then it's all yours. I'll be over here talking to your dad."

Jason nodded, concentrating on keeping the mower in a straight line. Its roar diminished as he navigated among trees toward the far side of the yard.

Petey motioned me toward the porch steps, where he picked up a bottle of beer. "I might've created a monster. If he gets any better at this, you're going to have to raise his allowance."

"It's the first time he's shown an interest. Could be you've hit on something," I said. "Normally, a lawn service does this for me, but it'd be good for him to help a little and learn some responsibility."

"Can't be too young to learn responsibility." Petey took a drink of his beer.

"Listen, I appreciate the effort, but you didn't have to mow the grass," I said.

"No big deal. It looked a little long. I want to do my share."

"Honestly, it isn't necessary. I'm just glad to have you here. Anyway, since you'll be working next week, take it easy for now."

Petey cocked his head. "Working next week?"

"Yeah, I made some calls. I got you a job."

"You did? Great!"

"On a building I designed."

"Couldn't be better."

"Uncle Peter!" Jason yelled in panic. At the end of a row, the boy struggled to turn the mower. It veered toward a shrub.

"Hang on!" Petey ran to help him.