The Conveyance

by Brian Matthews

  "How are you holding up?" she asked.

  "The food helped." I grabbed another piece of bread. "How about you? Think you can do this?"

  She eased into the chair next to me and smiled, but the joy never touched her eyes. They looked haunted, much the same way they had earlier, and I felt a stab of guilt over my selfishness. While her indiscretion had taken place more than six years ago, I'd never been good at letting go of the past. Odd, given I spent most of my work day encouraging people to do just that.

  Physician, heal thyself.

  What a joke.

  "Afraid we'll kick your butt again?" she asked playfully.

  "I'm serious, Toni."

  She stopped smiling. "This was a setback, but it won't derail our lives. We want a child, and by damned, we'll have one. Just not today."

  She spoke plainly, with the matter-of-fact quality of a teacher explaining a lesson plan. By the time she'd finished, though, her eyes were moist with tears.

  "I couldn't agree more." I took her hand. I'm a tactile person and find special comfort in physical contact. "We keep trying. No one could fault us for that. Besides"—I gave her my best lecherous grin—"I'm willing to try as often as you are."

  She handed me the bottle opener. "The only way you're getting lucky tonight is if you win a hand or two, which pretty much rules out sex."

  I popped open a beer, emptied the contents into a glass, and handed it to her. "Keep dreaming. Frank and I are determined to break your winning streak."

  She stared at her beer. "Did you notice the funny look Frank gave us when we walked in?"

  "I did. Think he and Kerry are having a disagreement?"

  "They seemed pretty cozy in the kitchen."

  I opened another beer. "Sometimes he gets like that when he's working a difficult case. Remember a few years back, when heroin started showing up in the high school? He was consumed with finding the guy who was pushing the stuff. Lost sleep, dropped weight, had the same look on his face." I poured the rest of the beers. "Could be something as simple as that."

  "As simple as what?" Frank strode into the room, his bulk momentarily blocking the light from the kitchen. He skirted two chairs and sat opposite me. Our games were men against women. "What are you two going on about?"

  "Life, the universe, and everything," I said.

  "Ah, I get it. Forty-two. As in the number of State Troopers it takes to count to three, or to figure out why there was debris on the road."

  I picked up the cards and began removing the unnecessary ones. "Did you hear anything more?"

  "Of course not. Trying to get a Troop to do anything is like trying to chase a fart through a keg of nails. Damn near impossible."

  "Are they really that bad?" Toni said. "Won’t they at least try to find out what happened?"

  "To answer your first question, hell yes, they're that bad. Troops are elitists. They lord over common cops like they own the state. To answer your second question, I don't think they'll put much time into it. To be fair, what good would it do? I just happen to hate loose ends, especially when they almost take out my best friend." He washed down his food with a swig of beer and called over his shoulder, "Kerry! Let's go!"

  "I'll only be a minute," she said from the kitchen. "Just finishing up the snacks."

  I separated out the fives, gave two to Toni, and kept the others for myself. They were our point markers. Next, I flipped cards so they landed face up, one for each player, going around the circuit, until the Jack of Clubs landed in front of Frank. Looked like the big guy would deal first.

  "Yeah, baby. This is gonna be fun." Frank swept up the cards. "No mercy tonight, ladies. No mercy at all. You'll be mewling like a couple of clubbed seals before we're through with you."

  Toni shot me a pained glance. "We've already got tenderized Paco on the menu."

  Kerry entered carrying a container full of dip and a plate of veggie slices. "Leave my boy alone. Picking on the weak and infirm is against the American way.” She set the plate on the table. “Better we trounce him with our card playing and rapier-sharp wit and send him staggering home to lick his wounds. Or even better, have him stagger home to lick Toni." She broke out in muffled laughter.

  "Jesus, Kerry," Frank said. "What if the kids heard that?"

  Spots of crimson glowed like banked coals high on Kerry's cheeks, and she fanned herself with a napkin. "Trust me, it sounded funnier in my head." She used the napkin to pat her cheeks. "Does it feel warm in here to you? Frank, could you get me a glass of water, please?"

  Wordlessly, Frank rose and stormed out of the room. My eyes found Toni's. She bit her lower lip, and I nodded.

  Maybe there was trouble in paradise.

  Toni hurried around the table and wrapped an arm around her friend. "Honey, are you okay?"

  "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," Kerry said, melting into the embrace. "Sorry about my little joke. It was totally inappropriate. Can't blame Frank for being upset. The last few weeks have been stressful."

  That sealed it. There was definitely trouble in paradise.

  "Anything we can do to help?" I asked.

  Kerry shook her head. "No, but thanks for offering."

  "We're here for you," Toni said. "All you have to do is ask."

  "I know. You guys are the best."

  Kerry sounded almost resigned, as if she didn't expect her situation to improve. I played out several scenarios in rapid order: financial problems, illness, trouble with one or more of the kids. Divorce.

  My mind settled on the last one. Could I have missed something, an unraveling of their relationship severe enough to threaten their marriage? I thought back to the last time we were together. Nothing unusual stood out. Their interactions had been normal, caring.

  Yet Kerry was upset.

  Perhaps divide and conquer might work. Leaving Toni with Kerry, I headed for the kitchen.

  I found Frank standing at the sink, the tap running. He held a water glass but wasn't filling it. He stared blankly at the glass, as if he had forgotten why he was holding it. I watched him, my sense of alarm growing.

  He didn't move. He didn't seem to be breathing.

  I couldn't take any more. Crossing the room, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you want to tell me what's going on?"

  My touch jolted Frank out of his reverie. He jerked upright. The glass slipped from his fingers and shattered in the sink.

  "Huh? Wha—?"

  "Relax. It's only me."

  "Brad?" Toni called out from the dining room. "Is everything okay in there?"

  "We're good. Frank dropped a glass. Give us a minute to clean up." Lowering my voice, I said to Frank, "Okay, time to come clean. Is there something going on I should know about?"

  Frank reached into a cabinet below the sink and pulled out a paper bag, the kind you put your groceries in at the IGA. He dropped shards of broken glass into it. "Could you grab me another glass?"

  Frank was like that. He'd break through a brick wall to help you, but when it came to his own issues, he'd rather play hermit crab, retreating into his shell and shutting you out. It was one of his more frustrating habits, one I typically ignored.

  Not today.

  I handed him the glass. "You don't want to talk, fine. I'll respect your privacy. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

  I limped back toward the dining room.

  "Come on, Paco. Don't be like that."

  I kept limping.

  "Brad. Seriously, wait a second."

  Frank rarely used my given name. I turned to face him.

  “What?”

  Frank drew in a heavy sigh. His finger caressed the cigarette packet in his shirt pocket. "I promise I'm not shutting you out. It's just—the whole damn thing is complicated."

  My stance softened. "That's all you had to say. I understand complicated, I deal with it every day. But we're friends, and I'm always willing to listen. Keep that in mind, amigo."

  I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Maybe it
was the accident, the shock of knowing I could have died in a massive Malibu fireball. Maybe it was the pain wracking my body. Whatever the reason, I didn't want to deal with Frank or his evasiveness.

  I left before he could say anything.

  * * *

  Toni and Kerry had reached some sort of neutral ground. They remained huddled, foreheads almost touching as they whispered back and forth. When I walked in, Toni looked up without moving her head, the question plain on her face.

  Did you learn anything?

  I gave her a curt shake of my head. She rolled her eyes. Apparently, she hadn't been successful either.

  "Water's on the way," I said. "Everything okay in here?"

  "I think so." Toni pushed away from her Kerry. Tears had dampened the other woman's face. Toni brushed a strand of hair from Kerry's forehead. "What about you, sweetie? You sure you're all right?"

  Kerry's cheeks were blotchy, the flesh around her eyes puffy. Her breath hitched, as if she had been crying for hours and not minutes. She grabbed another napkin and blew her nose. "Sorry for acting like a ninny. I'm not used to being this emotional."

  "Stress affects us all in different ways," I said as I took my chair. "No need to apologize for being human."

  Kerry stuffed the napkin into her pocket. "Thank you. Sometimes I need reminding."

  Frank returned with the glass of water and set it in front of his wife. He paused, his eyes traveling from face to face to face; the veteran cop assessing the scene of the crime. "Everything good? We can go back to playing cards?"

  I caught another look from Toni. He hadn't asked how his wife was.

  "Sure," I said. "Have a seat. It's your deal."

  Forty minutes later, the women won. Frank and I had made it close. We’d only lost by two points.

  Kerry called for a bathroom break and left. Toni took the snack bowls into the kitchen to refill them.

  That left Frank and me: Paco and the Man.

  Frank's fingers drummed the tabletop like a piano player with a grudge against the music. I watched, not responding, and let his uneasiness play out to its natural conclusion.

  It didn't take long.

  "Ah, shit," he said. "I didn't want this to be so complicated. God knows neither of us needs more chaos in our lives." He dropped his head in his hands. "How did life get so screwed up?"

  I wasn't sure what he was talking about, so I waited for him to continue.

  He finally looked at me. I was shocked at the anguish in his eyes.

  "Kerry's pregnant," he said. "About six weeks. We found out last week."

  The news stunned me. I had expected a lot of things, but not this. "You're not happy?"

  "I already got three kids, and they all play hockey. You know how expensive that sport is? Over a grand a month in ice time alone. Then it'll be college. Figure a hundred grand per kid and my debts add up fast. Now I'm gonna have another one. More cost, more time. My retirement gets pushed back another decade, not to mention I'm older and changing diapers no longer appeals to me. I tell you, Paco, this is not where I planned to be at this point in my life. It's some fucked up shit."

  "Kerry knows how you feel?"

  "Oh, yeah. We've had hours of discussion."

  His tone told me those hours hadn't been pleasant. "Go on."

  "She gets why I'm mad, but she doesn't care. She's a mothering type. Having another kid around feels natural to her. The costs are secondary."

  "They're also real. So is the effect it's having on your relationship."

  "That part will pass."

  Maybe, or maybe not. I'd seen plenty of marriages splinter because of financial stresses. It was the number one cause of divorce, ahead of adultery and spousal abuse. No need to tell him, though. He already felt bad enough.

  "Have you told the boys?" I said.

  "We're gonna wait until after the first trimester. In case, you know, something happens."

  "And ending the pregnancy isn't an option?"

  "Come on, Paco. We're talking about a life here."

  "It was only a question. I didn't mean to offend."

  His eyes cut away from mine. "I'll be honest, I’ve thought about it, but I can't. It's not how my parents raised me."

  "Okay, so that option is off the table." There was one beer left. I filled Frank's glass. "Aside from the obvious, how did this happen? I thought she was on birth control pills."

  "She was." He grabbed the beer and downed half of it. "I did some research. Even on the pill, there's a one-tenth of one percent chance a woman could get pregnant. Just my luck, huh? Instead of winning the lottery and retiring to a beach in Hawaii, I get another mouth to feed."

  "That explains her being emotional," I said. "For now, try not to worry. Give yourself time. You need to wrap your head around the idea of being a new dad."

  "There's more, and this one involves you."

  "Oh?"

  "Toni. Remember what happened today. How's she gonna react when she hears her best friend is having her fourth kid?"

  My mouth suddenly went dry. Images of Toni sitting in the shower, clutching the test stick and crying so hard her shoulders shook, returned with the force of an avalanche. I took a swig of beer and said, "You think she told her?"

  "She's trying to find the right time."

  "There might not be a right time."

  I heard a noise behind me. Kerry rounded the corner from the living room. Her cheeks were rosy and she smelled of soap. We must have looked suspicious, because she pulled up short of her chair and placed her hands on her ample hips.

  "You two are up to something. You both look—" The blood drained from her face. She turned to Frank. "You told him, didn't you?"

  Frank nodded, but otherwise kept silent.

  Kerry shifted her attention to me. "Does Toni know?"

  "Not yet."

  "How do you think she'll react? Do you think she'll get mad?"

  There was an excellent chance of that, but I didn't want to alarm her. Instead, I said, "She's your friend. Trust her as you would trust yourself."

  "In other words, I'm on my own."

  I shrugged. Sometimes the truth isn’t what we wanted to hear.

  Toni entered from the kitchen, a snack bowl in each hand, her dark hair swept back from her forehead. She set the bowls on the table and took her seat.

  "Okay, whose deal is it? Has to be me or Kerry. Frank started last game."

  "Toni, honey—" I began.

  "No fair trying to steal the deal, mister," Toni said, then noticed our expressions and frowned. "What’s the matter?"

  I took her hand. "Kerry has something to tell you."

  “What?” She turned to her friend. "Tell me what?"

  Kerry tried to smile. It didn't work, and she gave up. "I've been to the doctor."

  Toni's face paled. "Is it something serious? Oh my god, it is. Please tell me it isn't cancer." Her hand clutched painfully at mine. "It is, it's cancer. I think I'm going to throw up."

  "I don't have cancer."

  Toni looked doubtful. "Really?"

  "Really, I'm not sick."

  "What is it then? What's the matter?"

  Kerry gnawed on her lower lip. "I'm not sure how to tell you."

  "Tell me what?"

  "I'm pregnant,” Kerry said. “I'm going to have a baby."

  There was a moment of hesitation, then Toni jumped out of her chair, rushed over, threw her arms around Kerry, and hugged her.

  "Why wouldn't you want to tell me?" Toni said. "This is wonderful news. I'm so happy for you."

  Frank slumped in relief, and Kerry happily returned Toni’s embrace.

  I seemed to be the only one who noticed Toni wasn’t smiling.

  "I was worried you might be upset,” Kerry said. "I know how much you and Brad want to have a baby, and here I am, knocked up for the fourth time. It doesn't seem fair. Then there was Brad's accident. You could have lost your husband." She hugged Toni tighter. "I want you to have a baby too."

 
"Oh sweetie, don't worry about me. Everything will work out. Brad and I will have our baby, you'll see."

  "I know, but telling you felt like rubbing salt in a wound. I hated it. I hated it down to my bones. I would never want to hurt you."

  "Your happiness could never hurt me." Toni kissed Kerry on the cheek and slipped out of her embrace. "How far along are you?"

  "Six weeks, give or take. We'll know more when we get the ultrasound." Her hands knotted together. "This is going to be hard on everyone. It's not like we planned on another child."

  Toni suddenly glared at Frank. "Is this why you were being such a jerk earlier?"

  I felt my stomach clench—here we go.

  Frank's expression grew frosty. "It's more complicated than that."

  "What's complicated about supporting your wife? Your pregnant wife?"

  "Toni—" I wanted to get her attention, to warn her.

  "What?" she said, her eyes bright with anger.

  I was right. The news had upset her. "It's not our place to get involved. This is between them and should be left that way."

  "Why, so he can take his frustrations out on her? Fat chance of that!"

  Frank bristled at her words. Kerry looked helplessly between me and Toni. Both now sensed the coming storm, and neither knew how to prevent it.

  "I doubt it's that bad," I told her calmly. "We both know Frank. He's a better man than that."

  "He practically took her head off earlier."

  "That's an exaggeration, and more than a little unfair."

  "You're deliberately ignoring the way he treated her."

  "I'm trying to see both sides."

  "Sides?” Toni said. “She's pregnant, and he's being an ass. What else is there to see?"

  I took a breath. This wasn't going well. "Can we get back to playing euchre?"

  "I’m sorry," Kerry said. "I didn't mean to start a fight."

  "Don't apologize for being a woman," Toni said. "Motherhood is a wonderful, natural thing. These two don't have a clue what you're going through, especially him." She shot another angry look at Frank. "If he did, he wouldn't be acting like this."

  Frank rose from his chair. "That's it, I've taken enough shit for one night. Kerry, I'll see you upstairs."

  Kerry grabbed his arm. "Don't go." She turned to Toni. "You've gone too far. You have no right to talk to him like that."