While I waited for her, I spotted Junior leaving the hospital with his two pint-sized miniature versions of himself. He saw me sitting in my car, and as he did, an ugly grin spread across his face. He changed direction and started walking towards me, ignoring his two boys as they punched at each other's arms.
'Well, look who's here,' he said. 'Whatsa matta, Joe, you been crying or something? Big bad world getting you down?'
'Junior, you better look after your two kids before they kill each other.'
He turned sideways to see his two boys smacking each other. He raised his hand as if he were going to slap both of them, and barked at them to stop it. They obeyed his order, both staring back with sullen, dull expressions.
'They're chips off the old block, huh, Junior?' I said.
He turned back towards me, his grin stretched tighter across his face. 'What I tell you before about calling me Junior,' he said.
'Sorry, old habits die hard.'
'You think you're so fucking smart. You're a fucking moron, that's what you are. What I tell you before about bothering my pop?'
'He told me why he's working out a deal with Phil.’
‘You're fucking delusional.'
'You want to know why he's going to be spilling his guts? It's partly because of you, Junior. Woops, there I go, calling you that again.'
He didn't say anything, he just stared at me with his dark black eyes, his grin all but disappearing as it stretched even farther across his face. I noticed I even had his two boys' attention.
'He wants to save your soul. He thinks if he can force you out of your life of crime he can convert you into a devout, God-fearing member of society.'
'You've gone completely nutso, pal.'
'You think so, huh? Why don't you go back in there and talk to your dad about it. See what he has to say.'
'I don't have to go bothering Pop because of your bullshit delusions. But I tell you, Joe, there's going to be a price you're gonna pay for disturbing Pop. Beyond and above the thirty grand you owe me.'
'You got me shaking here, Junior.'
He took a step towards my car, his face flushed with violence. 'If you had any brains you would be shaking. You and me will settle this later, Joe. I promise you that.'
'If you have any issues with me,' I said, 'we can settle them now.'
'Nah, later, when we have some privacy.'
'We don't have to wait. If you want I can get out of the car now and kick the crap out of you in front of your two kids. Would you like me to do that?'
He started walking away from my car, his ugly grin back in place. 'That's okay, Joe. We'll settle things later. I guarantee it.'
I watched as Junior and his two kids walked across the parking lot and got into his Range Rover. I was so caught up watching them that I wasn't aware that Charlotte had gotten into my passenger seat until she closed the door shut. It damn near gave me a heart attack.
'Here you go,' she said as she handed me a bottle of water and a pill. As I swallowed the pill, I noticed Junior's Range Rover slow down and could see him getting a good long look at Charlotte. Both his boys were also staring at her, both with their pug noses pressed hard against the same back passenger window. Junior lowered his window and waved at the two of us.
'See you around, Joe,' he yelled out before speeding off.
'I think that was Mr. Vassey's son,' Charlotte said.
I nodded. I didn't like the fact that Junior saw the two of us together, but there was nothing I could do about it and it probably didn't matter.
'He doesn't seem like a very nice man,' she remarked quietly. 'I'd have to agree with that.'
She peered at me for a moment before turning away with a slight blush. 'Your swelling has gone down. Are you feeling any better?'
'I think so.'
I gave a quick look in the rearview mirror and could see she was right about the swelling. It was easier to keep my eyes open against the sunlight. As I pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Burlington, Charlotte seemed lost in her own thoughts. She sat quietly, her brow furrowed, her small hands clasped tightly together.
At one point I thought I saw her shivering. I asked whether she was cold. She hesitated for a moment before telling me that she was fine. I pulled the car over and put the top back up.
'If the wind's bothering you, it's okay to tell me,' I said.
'It really wasn't bothering me,' she said. I could tell from how withdrawn she had gotten that something was on her mind, but
I didn't push it. After several minutes she interrupted our silence to ask me why I came to see her today.
'Why?' I laughed. I wanted to take you out on a date.'
'Why, though?'
'Because it was nice having coffee with you the other day. Because I find you attractive. And I guess because I wanted to get to know you better.'
She sat quietly after that, seeming to sink deeper into her private thoughts.
When we got to downtown Burlington, I parked in a garage and we set off on foot. It was one of those perfect fall days that send couples flocking to the stores and restaurants in the downtown area. It felt good just strolling about outside. As we were checking out the different restaurants around town, Charlotte's mood perked up. Whatever funk she had been slipping into was gone. She became more talkative and it took only a small effort on my part to squeeze a smile out of her.
We found a small French bistro that we decided to settle on. It was two thirty in the afternoon and the place was still crowded. A little after three we were seated. Charlotte ordered an apple crepe and a glass of white wine. I ordered beef bourguignon. I tried asking for a bottle of beer to go with my meal, but Charlotte became concerned about my mixing alcohol with the allergy medication she had given me, so I ended up sticking with coffee. While I wanted the beer, it was kind of sweet that she showed the concern that she did.
Charlotte started to fidget as we waited for our food. The nervousness had come back to her large hazel eyes. I could tell she wanted to ask me something. She looked away from me and stared down at her small clasped hands. I couldn't help noticing how tiny and white her knuckles were.
'Joe,' she asked, 'you're not married, are you?'
I couldn't keep from smiling. So that was what had put her in a funk earlier. 'No,' I said. I was married once, but we divorced over seven years ago. And I don't have a girlfriend. To be honest, you're only the second woman I've ever dated.'
She looked back up at me. I could almost see the thoughts running through her head.
'It's true,' I said. 'I knew my wife when we were kids. We were together through high school and got married right afterwards. I've never dated anyone else, and you're the first person I've gone out with since my divorce.'
'Joe, the only thing I'll ask of you is that you don't lie to me.'
'Everything I've told you is the truth.'
Her eyes held steady on mine again. We sat like that for a while, just kind of looking at each other. I was actually beginning to feel pretty good, almost forgetting what I needed from her. A small, easy smile had made its way onto her face. We sat like that, not really aware of anything else, until our waiter broke the spell by bringing us our food.
I didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled the food. The only thing I had eaten that day was the powdered doughnuts, and my stomach was now rumbling. Still, though, I forced myself to eat at a leisurely pace. I watched as Charlotte cut her crepe into tiny pieces. After every few bites, she would stop to dab her mouth with her napkin. It was kind of cute, I guess. I never saw anyone eat that way before.
She coughed lightly to get my attention. 'Joe, do you have any children?' she asked.
'Two girls. Melissa's fourteen and Courtney's twelve.'
'Do you see them much?'
From her expression, I could tell what she really wanted to know was whether I still saw my ex-wife much. I shook my head. 'They're out of my life now,' I said. I won't be seeing them in the future.'
&nb
sp; She tried to give me a sympathetic look, but I could tell there was some relief mixed in. To be polite, because it wasn't really any surprise to me, I made a comment about how I was surprised that she wasn't already married or involved in a relationship.
'I've never been married,' she said. She seemed to shrink inwards as a darkness passed over her face. I haven't dated much.'
After that I kept the conversation light, asking her about what she liked to do and stuff like that. When she wasn't working, she was usually at home reading a book or watching TV. I had a feeling that since she'd moved to Vermont her company had been almost exclusively her three cats. I could tell that I impressed her when I was able to discuss several of the books that were on her shelves. I didn't tell her that during the last seven years I probably emptied out the Bradley library – or to be more specific, Morris had emptied it out for me. Every week he'd check out between five and ten books for me. It got to the point where during the last year he'd almost always brought me several books each week that I'd already read.
I could see that there was another question dying to bust loose from her. I sat back and smiled and waited for it.
'Joe,' she said, 'you mentioned yesterday that you used to be a police officer?'
'Yeah.' I took a deep breath and made a decision. I did something pretty bad and was kicked off the force.'
An odd look flashed on her face. It wasn't surprise or shock or anything like that. I wasn't quite sure what it was. In any case, she didn't seem taken aback by my answer. She seemed almost satisfied with it, her eyes calm and holding steady on mine.
'What do you do now?'
'I'm in transition.' I let loose a short laugh. I couldn't help myself. 'My dad wants me to go to college. Who knows, maybe I could major in history or literature and become a professor someday. I don't know, I still haven't figured out yet what I'm going to do with my life.'
It was funny; she didn't press me about what I did to get myself thrown off the force, or why I hadn't dated during the last seven years. For the rest of the lunch, we stuck with small talk, only superficial stuff. When I tried asking her why she left Montreal she changed the subject to how nice the weather was, then her face darkened as she stared at her hands. I moved the conversation to her cats and that brightened her back up. She told me they were Persians and that she had brought them with her from Canada. Before too long she was smiling again.
After lunch we strolled around some of the stores. At one point she took hold of my hand. It felt nicer than I would have expected.
We made our way down to Lake Champlain. After walking for a few minutes along the shore, we sat on some rocks and looked out at the water. I saw a couple of seagulls flying overhead, and as I watched them, I found my thoughts drifting. I felt calm sitting there. The noises that had been buzzing through my head for the past several days were silent. Charlotte brought me out of it by asking how I knew Manny Vassey.
'I got to know him when I was a cop,' I said.
'Wasn't he a criminal?'
'Yeah, he was.'
'And you're friends with him?'
'Not exactly.' I hesitated as I tried to think of a way to broach the subject of what I really needed from her. Because what I really needed from her wasn't a girlfriend or a relationship, but for her to overdose Manny – maybe with morphine, maybe with something else. As I thought about it, I realized how crazy the idea was. It was more than a long shot, it was nuts. Completely, absolutely nuts. I felt cold all of a sudden, especially in the head.
The coldness was penetrating deep into my eye sockets. Kind of like when you eat ice cream too fast, except worse. I had to look away from her. But I had no other choice – no other way out that I could see – so I stumbled along, my voice sounding strange and foreign to me.
'I guess over the years I've grown to respect him, at least at some level, and maybe somewhat begrudgingly,' I said. 'He was always a tough, hard sonofabitch. But no one should have to die the way he's dying.'
I could feel the words drying up in my throat. I shifted my gaze back to her. Charlotte sat silently watching me, her color having dropped to a pasty white. Her mouth looked so small, her lips almost disappearing into her face. I forced myself to push forward, ignoring the queasiness that was working its way into my stomach.
'It just doesn't seem right.' I coughed and cleared my throat, my voice growing hoarse as I continued. 'Especially when it would take only a little extra morphine to put him out of his misery.'
'Is that why you asked me out?'
'What?'
'I asked you if that was why you asked me out,' she said.
There was no nervousness in her eyes. There was really nothing there. Her expression had hardened into something not quite human. I barely recognized her. I found myself shaking my head.
'I don't get what you're asking,' I said.
She just sat staring at me. After a while she told me that Alice Cook at the information desk had stopped her when she had gone back to the hospital to get my allergy medication.
'Alice told me that you were asking about me,' Charlotte said. 'She told me what you did to Mr. Coakley. She told me how you went to prison. Please, Joe, don't lie to me. Tell me why you asked me out. Was it to get me to overdose Mr. Vassey with morphine? Because I would never do that.'
So Alice had recognized me after all. Probably hit her after we had talked. Now I knew the reason for Charlotte's funk earlier and it left my head spinning. I heard myself mumble something about how I had no idea what she was talking about. I was only making an observation,' I forced out. 'Why would you think I'd want something like that?'
'Mr. Coakley spends a lot of time visiting Mr. Vassey.'
'So? What does that have to do with me? And I told you before why I asked you out. That was the only reason.'
We sat quietly after that. I'm not sure how long. It might've been ten minutes, maybe fifteen, but it seemed like an eternity. After a while she leaned against me. I looked over and saw her expression had softened. She moved closer and rested her head against my shoulder.
'Aren't the clouds lovely,' she whispered.
It was weird. She acted as if nothing had happened. There were no questions about what I had done to Phil, or about my being in jail, or my interest in Manny Vassey. She just sat quietly, occasionally making comments about how nice a day she was having or how beautiful the lake and sky were. Later, when we drove back to Bradley, it was more of the same. On the way back she told me she'd like something to eat so we stopped off at a diner. I could barely stomach anything and only had a few spoons of rice pudding. I watched as Charlotte took bird-sized bites from a grilled cheese sandwich. During it all my mind raced as I tried to understand how my conversation with her went the way it did, and more importantly, what I was going to do next.
When I got her back to her apartment, she hesitated and moved awkwardly towards me.
'Would you like to come in?' she asked.
'I'd like to,' I said, 'but your cats and my allergies-'
'Your medication should be good for twelve hours.'
'I'd better not risk it, at least not tonight. I still feel a little shaky from before.'
I wasn't exaggerating. I did feel shaky. Maybe not from my earlier allergic reaction, but I still felt shaky as hell. I could see a thought start to formulate in her eyes about us maybe finding someplace else to be alone, so I moved quickly and gave her a long kiss. When I moved away I asked if I could see her tomorrow when she got off work.
'I could pick you up here,' I said.
She nodded. 'I'd like that. I finish work tomorrow at seven. Why don't you come by at eight?'
I told her I'd see her then and gave her a quick kiss before leaving. As I drove back to my parents' house, I kept playing the scene at the lake over and over again in my head. Maybe my comment about putting Manny out of his misery was out of line, but how could she make the leap from that to guessing that I only asked her out so I could manipulate her into overdosing Manny? The
only thing I could come up with was she must have overheard Manny and Phil talking together. Maybe she overheard Phil trying to convince Manny to incriminate me. Anyway, I couldn't get that out of my head, that and the fact that even though she knew what I had done, she was willing to go out with me and pretend that none of it ever happened.
What really got to me was the look on her face when she was waiting for me to explain myself. It was the type of look you might see at an accident site when a bystander catches a glimpse of something he wishes to hell he never saw. And she knew damn well I was lying! She knew it, but went straight into denial, pretending everything between us was hunky-dory.
By the time I got to my parents' house, I was feeling worse than shaky – kind of weak in the knees, like all I wanted to do was get to bed, lie down and hide from the world. When I opened the door I saw both my parents sitting in the den. They had the TV set on, but it was obvious they weren't paying attention to it. When they turned to me, my mom's mouth started to move as if she were chewing gum and my dad looked as if he dreaded what was about to happen.
'Can you sit down, Joey?' my dad asked.
'What's this about?'
My mom's mouth was closed but it was still moving furiously. It seemed like an effort for her to stop it. 'Do what your father tells you to do,' she demanded sharply.
I took a couple of steps into the room. 'Look,' I said, 'I'm tired and I don't have time for this nonsense. What do you want?'
'Sit down!' my mom ordered, her voice shrill and bordering on hysteria, her mouth once again chewing away on her imaginary gum.
'If this is about what happened at church-'
'Elaine called us today,' my dad said. He had slouched forward and was wringing his hands. He could barely look up at me. 'She told us how you drove to Albany the other day and how you called this morning. Courtney's been upset all day about your call.'
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