Faye Kellerman - Street Dreams

Yeah, right.

I knocked on the door. Rina answered. “Hi, honey. Your dad isn’t home. He took Hannah out for one of those painting things. You know, you paint a plate and they charge you fifty bucks for something you’re going to put in a drawer and never use.”

I smiled. I knew what she was talking about.

“Come in. I’ll find the address for you.”

“Nah, never mind. Just tell him I stopped by.”

Rina studied my face. By the look on hers, I must not have appeared neutral, let alone happy. “Cindy, you drove out all this way. Why don’t you wait for him? He’ll be back in an hour.”

“No thanks. Just tell him I’ve gone through about a quarter of the possibilities and I’m still looking for David. He’ll know what I mean. He can call me later on. Just to discuss a few things.”

Rina pulled me inside. “How about some coffee?”

I smiled and shrugged. She hooked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. I followed obediently. I swept my hand across the kitchen counter.

Rina said, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing.” What a stupid response. “I’ll get through it, Rina. Thanks.”

She didn’t push it. “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh.” I took out my purchase. “It’s for Koby.”

The shirt was bright orange, more vivid than I had remembered. Rina stared at it.

I said, “I got it on sale. Nonreturnable.”

“I can… understand that.”

I smiled. “Koby likes color.”

“Well, then, he’ll certainly like that.”

“He ruined one of his shirts at the accident, using it to stop some bleeding. I thought I’d replace it.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It will be if I give it to him.”

Rina waited for more. I didn’t offer up anything. She poured two cups. “It’s fresh. You take yours with cream, right?”

“Cream and an Equal. Girly coffee.”

“Me too.”

I drank the coffee. It was good and had cinnamon in it, and that only made me feel worse.

She said, “This, too, shall pass.”

“I guess everything passes eventually. You die.”

Rina smiled. “Now you’re sounding like your father.”

“God forbid.”

“No, that’s a good thing. I love your father.”

“That makes two of us.” I put the cup down. “I don’t know, Rina. This was going to be a peace offering. Now I have doubts if it’s even worth it. Maybe I should cut my losses.”

“You know best.”

“I like him. But men are so damn difficult.”

“Get me in the right mood, I’ll agree with you,” Rina said. “This weekend, your father has been a doll.”

“Maybe it’s me.”

“Want my advice for what it’s worth?”

“Sure.”

“The shirt’s not returnable. It’s for a rather specific taste. Give it to Koby. Otherwise it’ll go to waste.”

The day was spectacular, even if I wasn’t. His car was in the driveway, and for a moment, I just wished it would all go away-all the bad feelings that got in the way of life-so we could hop inside and cruise on an endless highway. I rang the bell, and when he didn’t answer, I went by the side and peered over the gate. This time, the back door wasn’t open, but I could see motion in the garden. I tried the latch, but it was padlocked. He wasn’t expecting visitors, but I didn’t care. I hopped the fence.

“Hello?” I called out.

“In back.”

The orange trees were still heavy with blossoms and perfume. I stopped at the entrance to his backyard. He was right. A week later and the garden had turned all color and aroma. He was trimming the rosebushes, wearing faded jeans, a green tank top, and sneakers without socks. He gave me the courtesy of a glance, then clipped off a stem containing a ruby red bud.

“Wow!” I brushed my black slacks off, dirty from my excursion over the fence. “It’s beautiful back here.”

“Thank you.” He glanced at me, then began to peel thorns off the branch. “But I think I have the better view.”

I thanked him. “How’s the back-room floor coming?”

He spoke to me, though he was focused on the flower. “It’s not coming. I don’t use power tools when I’m upset.”

He held out the stem to me.

I took it and sniffed it. “ Très élégant! And as long as we’re in a giving mood…” I lifted the bag. “A little more pedestrian, but like someone said, it’s the thought that counts.”

He regarded my present, wrapped in tissue paper and placed in a shiny gift bag with rope handles. “For me?”

“Unless there’s someone behind you, yes.”

His eyes, although no longer bloodshot, still lacked sparkle. They went from the gift to my face. “I’m utterly stunned. I don’t know what to say.”

“ ‘Thank you’ is always in fashion.”

“Thank you.”

“Take it and open it.”

He did and pulled out the shirt. His smile was a brilliant crescent of white. “It’s perfect!”

“If you wear it with black on Halloween, people will think you’re a jack-o’-lantern.”

“Especially with my big teeth.” He looked at the label. “Right size.” He held it up to his chest. “What do you think?”

“It says you.”

“Then I think it is in serious trouble.” His smile dimmed, and he put the shirt back in the bag. “I would like to wear it tonight for you. Is that a possibility?”

“Maybe.”

“How much on a scale from one to ten?”

I couldn’t bring myself to smile. “I’m sorry I came down on you. I don’t like when other people do my job better than I do.”

“I don’t do your job.”

“I wouldn’t have caught him if you hadn’t been there.”

“I was a competitive runner. No doubt I could outrun anyone in your department.”

“But it wasn’t anyone. It was me. And the guy was my responsibility. Koby, what if he had taken out a gun?”

“Then I would have perfect backup.”

“C’mon! I’m trying to make a point.”

He grew glum. “I hear you.”

“I’m… I don’t know. Sorry, all right?”

“It was more than just my speed,” he spoke softly. “You were already mad at me.”

I didn’t confirm or deny it. Again silence came between us. I said, “I saw the look on your face when I took that guy down. I’m sure I conformed to your image of the heavy-handed LAPD cop.”

“I flinched,” he admitted. “But I know there are two sides.”

I nodded.

“What did he do?”

“Technically, I arrested him because he has an outstanding warrant for unpaid traffic violations. But I wanted him in connection with a gang rape of a retarded woman.”

Koby screwed up his face in horror. I thought what my father must have thought dozens of times. Why did I tell him?

He said, “Did arresting him help you out?”

Eventually. After I fielded about a thousand questions. “Yes, it helped quite a bit.”

“I’m glad.” He tucked the clippers inside his pants pocket and looked at his watch. “How about if I make coffee? You relax here while I shower and get dressed. Then maybe we take a ride to the beach and watch the sunset. Then we have dinner.”

It sounded not only wonderful, but like instant therapy. But I was still tense. “Koby, why didn’t you call me? I was freaked out after the accident. I know you were busy with life-and-death issues, but a kind word or two on my message machine would have gone a long way. It wouldn’t have taken more than… two minutes.”

He looked away. “I should have.”

“So why didn’t you?”

He regarded a rosebush and took out the clippers. Again he spoke without looking at me. “I have these moods, Cynthia.” He snipped off a dead head. “I was hoping that maybe they wouldn’t surface until we were farther along… so you could see the good side of me.”