The Nearness of You

by Dorothy Garlock

  “Lily’s not a girl anymore,” Boone said. “She’s more than capable of making her own decisions.”

  Morris leaned his considerable bulk against the railing and sighed deeply. “Lily has made that abundantly clear to me,” he explained. “Even though to me she’ll always be six years old, she’s all grown up now, a young woman, plain and simple. With all that’s happened lately, I’d have to be blind not to see it.” He paused, as if weighing his words. “Did you know that she almost ran away to the city with her friend?”

  Boone nodded. “I’m glad she didn’t. If she had, we never would have met.”

  “But she plans to go eventually, doesn’t she?”

  His question put Boone in a tough spot. On the one hand, he didn’t want to betray Lily; it was both her right and responsibility to tell her father. On the other, he didn’t want to lie. “That’s her intention,” he admitted, choosing to give some but not all of the story.

  “Because of you.” Morris hadn’t asked a question; to Boone’s ears it sounded more like an accusation, as if he was being blamed.

  “You may not know me well, Mr. Denton,” Boone began, “but you strike me as a good judge of character. As mayor, I’m sure you’ve met hundreds, heck, thousands of people. From the moment they shake your hand or look you in the eyes, I bet you get a pretty good read on them. Some are honest, friendly, and hardworking. Others might be liars, complainers, or lazy. Most are somewhere in between. Knowing all that, when we first met in your office, I’d be plenty surprised if you came away with a bad impression of me.”

  Morris didn’t answer; to Boone, it was the same as saying he was right.

  So he decided to get right to the point.

  “I’m in love with Lily,” he said.

  Her father’s reaction wasn’t severe, but it was noticeable. Morris’s eyes widened and his lips parted as his jaw dropped open.

  “Because of my job with Life, I’ve been all over the world, from Paris to Shanghai, and I’ve never met a woman like her,” Boone continued, smiling as he thought of all the ways Lily had unexpectedly changed his life. “She’s smart, funny, everything I’ve ever wanted and a whole lot more. Lily has made me think about where I’ve been, where I am, and, most important, where I’m going. Amazingly, she’s even made me realize that I’m not always as right about things as I think I am,” he added with a smirk. “That day I bumped into her on the street? Most people would think it was an accident, but I’m starting to believe it was meant to be. And as to where we go from here, I can honestly tell you, wherever it is, I want Lily to be by my side.”

  “In New York City,” Morris said, again not asking a question.

  “If that’s what she wants, then that’s where we’ll be,” Boone answered. “Wherever it is, I promise you that I will take care of her, that I’ll be true to Lily and love her more and more every day. You won’t have a reason to worry.”

  The older man barked out a humorless laugh. “But I will worry,” he contradicted Boone. “That’s what a parent does. A father knows what’s best for his child, which is why I’m still not convinced that this is the right decision for Lily.”

  Boone paused, contemplating whether he wanted to ask the question that had sprung to mind as he listed to Morris; in the end, he decided to go through with it, believing Lily to be worth the risk. “What would your wife have said?”

  “Excuse me?” her father asked, his tone unhappy with a hint of anger.

  “I asked about Lily’s mother. I wondered what she would—”

  “Don’t even begin to think you’d know what Sarah would say about this,” Morris interrupted, pushing off the railing.

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea what she would say or think,” Boone admitted, his voice calm, standing his ground, his eyes never leaving those of the other man. “But Lily claims she knows.”

  Morris’s unhappiness stalled when he heard this. “She does?” he sputtered. “What…what did she tell you…?”

  “That her mother would’ve understood why she wanted to leave,” Boone answered. “That when you got right down to it, she would have wanted her daughter to be happy.” He paused, letting his words hang between them for a moment, then added, “But Lily couldn’t know, not really. How old was she when her mother died? Eight?”

  “Six,” her father corrected.

  “I’m sure she has some memories, a snippet here and there, but Lily couldn’t possibly know the kind of person your wife was, how she would feel about an important decision like this. The only person who would know is you.”

  Morris looked away. Silence settled on the porch, but Boone wasn’t about to be the one to break it. When Lily’s father finally spoke, his voice lacked its characteristic timbre. “She told me something like this yesterday,” he began. “When she said it, I didn’t give it much thought. I was too busy being telling her I was disappointed and that she couldn’t go with you to the dance. But maybe I should’ve listened closer. Maybe she did know her mother.

  “You see, Sarah was the most amazing woman I’d ever known,” he continued. “When we met it was like a thunderbolt shot across my heart. She was always beside me, guiding me, willing to tell me I was wrong even if I was convinced I was right. She taught me what was really important in life, and that’s family.” He paused, gathering himself. “After…after she died, I did the best I could, raising Lily in a way that I hoped Sarah would have approved. I wanted our girl to grow up the same as if her mother hadn’t been taken from her, from us.” Morris shook his head. “I know that’s impossible, but I tried all the same.”

  “The way I see things, you couldn’t have done any better,” Boone told him.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Morris agreed. “You and Lily both.”

  “About her mother?”

  The older man nodded, then took a deep breath. “Sarah would have wanted Lily to be happy,” he said. “To chart her own course in life, even if she made a mistake here and there. If Lily wanted to go, if she was committed to leaving Hooper’s Crossing, Sarah would’ve encouraged her to do just that.”

  “If Lily leaves, it will be her choice to make,” Boone said. “But if that’s what she decides to do, I’ll do everything I can to keep her happy and safe.”

  Morris smiled, then clapped a heavy hand on Boone’s shoulder. “You better, or this angry papa bear will be down to the city to set you straight.”

  Boone had no doubt that Lily’s father would do exactly that.

  By the time Lily, Boone, and Clive arrived at Main Street, the fall festival’s Halloween celebration was in full swing. Candlelight danced from inside dozens of hollowed-out pumpkins; some of their faces had been carved to display smiles, while many others showed scary, toothy grins. Stations for games had been set up all around downtown, with tubs of water so that people could bob for apples, and blindfolds to make it hard to pin the tail on the donkey. The moon kept sliding in and out of thin rows of dark clouds, a spooky sight given the date. A lone violin produced a mournful sound, like something a troupe of traveling Gypsies might play in a Hollywood horror picture, at least before the monster showed up.

  But what really caught the eye was all the people.

  Men, women, and children walked around in costume. Lily saw princesses and witches, Superman and Dick Tracy, goblins and vampires, President Truman and Joe DiMaggio. There were plenty of ghosts like Boone, other people who hadn’t given their outfits much thought or had run out of time, and a few robots like Clive, some more sophisticated and others less, but the two magazine men fit right in, as if they were locals.

  As for Lily, she was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. She had a skirt, a crimson cloak, and a matching hood that covered her blond hair. She’d even brought along a picnic basket as a prop. Lily had been working on her costume for months but had set it aside when she thought she’d be going to New York City with Jane. All it had needed was a few stitches along the seam of the hood, which she’d completed that after
noon.

  “I guess this means I’m the wolf tonight,” Boone had said when he saw her.

  “You better hope not,” Clive told him.

  “Why not?”

  “Because the wolf gets killed at the end of the story,” the writer had explained. “You want to be the woodsman who rescues her.”

  “Fine with me,” Boone had said, then joked, “You can be Red’s grandma.”

  They walked around the festival to take in the sights, grabbed a bite to eat, and marveled at the costumed crowd. Clive wanted to interview people, but kept dropping his pencil before he could ask any questions. Worse, he needed Boone to pick it up because his clunky robot outfit made it impossible for him to bend.

  “Next time it falls,” Boone said, “I’m gluing it to your hand.”

  Nearing the park, they noticed that there was a costume contest. Entrants walked across a stage so the judges could get a good look at them.

  “That has to be in the article!” Clive exclaimed and then hurried off, hobbling as fast as his cardboard-covered legs would let him.

  But Boone held back. He took Lily’s hand, the act a bit awkward since he was covered in a sheet. Even though she couldn’t see his face, his eyes spoke volumes; they roamed over her full of happiness and love, the gaze of a man wanting nothing more than to be where he was. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you, what with Clive around,” he said, “but I think you look beautiful tonight.”

  “You’re handsome yourself,” she teased, “at least the parts I can see.”

  He chuckled. “Still the comedian.”

  Lily smiled, but then her expression grew more serious. “I wish you’d tell me what you and my dad talked about on the porch.”

  When Boone and Morris had stepped back inside, both of them looked happy, as if whatever issues there were between them had been ironed out. But later, when Lily had pressed the photographer for details, he’d explained that it didn’t matter, that they’d each had a chance to say what needed to be said.

  “We came to an understanding,” Boone told her.

  “About what?”

  “You,” he answered. “If you decide to come with me to the city—”

  “Not if,” Lily insisted. “When.”

  “All right, all right,” Boone said as he raised his hands beneath the sheet, which made him look more spectral than ever. “When we leave town, I don’t think your father will get in the—”

  But before he could say more, Boone was once again cut off, this time by Clive. “Come on, will you!” the writer exclaimed as he returned to tug at his partner’s sheet. “You need to take some pictures! There’s a shot we can’t afford to miss!”

  Boone slapped Clive’s hand away, then turned to Lily. “Duty calls, I suppose,” he said. “Want to go check it out?”

  “I’m going to stay here,” she answered with a shake of her head. “Since this is the last I’ll see of this place for a while, I want to take it in on my own.”

  His head nodded beneath the sheet. “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll come find you when we’re done.” Boone started after Clive but then stopped. “Make sure you keep an eye out for the big, bad wolf, okay, Red?”

  Lily smiled. “If I see him, I promise to yell.”

  “Come at the bank from the north.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll make my way from the east and meet you by the door off the alley. If you see any cops or people hangin’ around, move to the corner of Eighth and Roosevelt. We’ll wait awhile and keep tryin’ till the coast is clear.”

  Randall looked over the roof of the car and, for the first and likely only time, was glad he was wearing a sheet over his head. Staring at Leo, the older thief dressed like a cowboy, a real gun in his holster, he sneered then rolled his eyes, fed up with all the endless planning and worrying. It was probably for the best that Leo couldn’t see his face.

  As Randall made to leave, Leo couldn’t resist adding one last order. “Remember, don’t use your gun unless you ain’t got any other choice. This whole thing will go straight to hell in a handcart if someone gets shot.”

  Randall took a deep breath, nodded beneath his sheet, then walked off.

  The closer he got to downtown, the busier things got. Parents led children door-to-door, the costumed brats screaming “trick-or-treat” and sticking out their buckets and bags the second someone answered. With the white sheet turning him into a ghost, his bag of safecracking tools hidden beneath, Randall moved easily among the people, just another festivalgoer, enjoying Halloween.

  On the north end of Main Street, he doubled back, headed for the bank. Randall had to admit that Leo’s plan made sense. There was a door near the alley that was partially obscured by a bush and some trash cans. If no one was around, they could pick the lock, slip inside, and get right to work. Once finished, it’d be easy to carry off bags of cash under their costumes. They would be long gone before anyone got wise to the robbery.

  And then I can find a game of cards, a good-time gal, and a drink.

  Walking down the sidewalk, Randall barely managed to dodge a pint-size Indian warrior decked out in a feathered headdress and face paint as he whooped and hollered his war cry. He chuckled. After all the time spent crammed in the cabin with only Leo for company, it was nice to be outside, to be among other people. He couldn’t help but enjoy himself.

  But then Randall saw something that stopped him in his tracks.

  “Holy shit,” he said out loud.

  There, standing on the corner no more than ten feet away, was Lily. She was wearing a costume, but it was definitely her; with the cape and hood, it wasn’t hard for Randall to figure she was supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood. Crazy as it was, seeing her dressed like that made Lily even more attractive to him, a bit exotic, in a way. Randall carefully looked around, but there was no sign of the Life magazine photographer. Maybe the son of a bitch had already left town. Maybe they’d split up. Whatever the reason, this was his chance to see her again, maybe even touch…

  Still, Randall hesitated.

  Right now, he was supposed to be on his way to the bank. If he was late, Leo would be worried, angry, or both. It could put the robbery in jeopardy. But the more Randall looked at Lily, the more convinced he became that he had a few minutes to kill. He was only a block or so away. What could it hurt to take a closer look? When he was done, he’d go to the bank, and Leo would be none the wiser.

  So Lily wanted to be the girl in the fairy tale?

  That was fine by Randall. He had no problem being the wolf.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  GARRETT DRUMMED HIS FINGERS on his desk at the police station. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He doodled in a notebook. He did anything and everything he could think of to take his mind off Lily, Boone, and the fact that the two of them were going to leave town together. Tomorrow.

  But nothing worked.

  For as long as Garrett could remember, he had loved this night, the fall festival in full swing, everyone in costume, celebrating Halloween. But now he just wanted it to be over. A couple of weeks ago, he’d had high hopes that he would confess his feelings to Lily and his life would change forever.

  And in a way it had. Just not the way he’d wanted.

  Still, he hadn’t given up, not completely. Garrett tenaciously clung to the hope that he could convince Lily to stay. All he needed was time. If they were alone, he was sure that he could—

  His thoughts were interrupted when the station telephone began to ring. Garrett would have preferred that someone else answer, but the only other officer was busy putting a drunk in a cell. Garrett sighed, then picked up the receiver. “Hooper’s Crossing Police.”

  “Evenin’. I’m trying to reach an Officer Doyle,” the caller said.

  “Speaking.”

  “This is Detective Joe Edinger over in Buffalo. I’m callin’ about the photograph you sent out over the wire,” he explained. “I recognize the man you’re looki
n’ for.”

  “You do?” Garrett asked, unable to hide his surprise.

  “I got his picture right here in front of me,” the lawman said. “That there is Randall Kane. He’s caused his fair share of trouble in these parts over the years.”

  Garrett’s instincts had been right: the man hadn’t given Lily his real name. “What did he do?” he asked.

  “Randall’s a thief down to the bone. If there’s somethin’ good to be got, he’ll walk away with it if it ain’t nailed down. Says here he’s a suspect in a robbery?”

  Garrett gave the detective the details of the case: how two men had broken in and ransacked a room, stealing a few things, but had been surprised when one of the occupants had returned, resulting in violence. The photograph was the only clue he had to go on.

  “Huh. That doesn’t sound like Randall’s usual play. He’s more of a bank robber. Has a knack with safes. Tumblers, keyed locks, you name it, he can finagle a door open faster than you can snap your fingers. If you’ve got a bank in town, especially one that has a lot of cash on hand, my advice would be to keep a close eye on it. Odds are, Randall’s sizin’ it up.”

  Garrett thanked the other policeman and hung up. But instead of leaning back in his chair, thinking about Lily, he was up and moving toward the door, doing math in his head.

  The fall festival.

  Hundreds of people in town spending money.

  The Hoover’s Crossing Bank and Trust.

  A noted bank robber.

  It all added up to trouble.

  Lily walked through downtown and revisited old memories. There was the newsstand where she’d bought her first comic book; she couldn’t recall the title, but there had been a scary monster on the cover. She stepped over the curb in front of the shoe store that had once tripped Garrett, giving him a bloody gash on his forehead when he fell. She glanced in the window of Dunaway’s Department Store, thinking of all the Decembers she’d pressed her nose to the cold glass, dreaming of what Santa might bring. Since she was leaving with Boone the next day, Lily didn’t know when she’d see any of these things again. In a matter of hours, she would be among the sights and sounds of the city. The Empire State Building. Millions of people. Grand Central Station. Tomorrow and the days that followed, she would become Jane on the other end of the phone line, bursting with excitement.