Читать книгу The Third Brother - Andrew Welsh-Huggins - Страница 10
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“JJ’S?”
“That’s what he said.”
“That a person?”
“Maybe. Or a bar. Or a pool hall in Spencer, Indiana, according to Google. I really don’t know, and I’m not sure I care. I was too busy looking at his gun.”
I was sitting in an Adirondack chair in my postage stamp of a backyard on Mohawk Street two days later. Sunday morning, the quiet kind that I don’t get enough of. Until a minute ago I’d been on my second cup of coffee, reading Dreamland and starting to think about breakfast. Hopalong, dozing at my feet, stirred briefly as my phone went off. I saw from caller ID it was Burke Cunningham. I almost didn’t answer, and not just because I liked listening to my new ringtone. A call from Cunningham on a Sunday morning was like the cluck of a dentist as she works on your teeth. The news can’t be good. On the other hand, because he’s one of the most sought-after defense attorneys in Columbus, Ohio, the news would probably involve a job, which I could use right at the moment. But it also meant an end to a quiet Sunday morning of the kind I don’t get enough of. I answered anyway. Unlike my conscience, my bank balance always gets the better of me.
“What’d the cops say?”
“They said it was a good thing I didn’t get my ass shot.”
“They did not.”
“Perhaps I’m paraphrasing.”
“Any leads?”
“Not at the moment. They took the info. Put out a news release.”
“I saw the coverage. You’re a hero, again.”
“Slow news day. A zoo baby would have bumped me off the lineup in a heartbeat.”
“How about the woman? Is she all right?”
“Scared and angry. But physically OK.”
“Any idea who they were?”
“No.”
“Any guesses?”
“Let’s see. Two redneck Americans looking to have a little fun at the expense of an immigrant who dresses funny to them. Other than that, no.”
“And you’re OK?”
“I’m out eighty dollars in groceries and my pride’s a touch wounded. I never should have let the kid get the drop on me like that.”
“What’s with the groceries?”
“I lost track of my cart afterward. Is there, ah, anything I can do for you?” I glanced at my book and my coffee.
“Just the opposite. I might have an assignment.”
“Now?”
“Something a bit more long term. If you’re interested. Are you available tomorrow morning? Perhaps we could discuss it then.”
“I’ll have to check my calendar. Why, yes, it turns out I’m free. Anything you can tell me beforehand?”
“Probably easiest if we talk in person. Nine o’clock work? My office?”
“See you then.”
I tried returning to my reading but made it only a page or two when I was interrupted by a sound at the back door. I turned and saw Joe, barefoot in red shorts and the Hogwarts T-shirt my parents bought him for his birthday.
“Morning.”
He nodded, wiping sleep from his eyes. I held out my arms. He stumped forward, hesitated a moment, and climbed onto my lap. I hugged him. I tried not to squeeze too tight. I had at best three or four nanoseconds of his childhood left before he was too old for this kind of thing.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Fine. Can I play on the Xbox?”
“In a little while. Is Mike up?”
He yawned and shook his head. He looked down at Hopalong. “Can I take him for a walk?”
“Maybe later. Once we’ve had breakfast.”
“He needs exercise. He’s lazy.”
“He’s an old Labrador. There’s a very slight difference.”
“Can we go swimming today?”
“Not a bad idea. If it doesn’t rain.”
“What’s it matter if it rains? We’re wet either way. It’s so hot. Why don’t you have air conditioning?”
“It’s a zoning code thing.”
“Sure it is, Dad.” He snuggled into me and I held my breath. He was a slight kid, just on the cusp of puberty, edges still soft here and there. Not like his half brother, already shooting up and bristling with muscles and testosterone and attitude. The window for lap sitting with Mike had been almost nonexistent, though most of that was on me. There’d been a scene with him the day before when I told him we couldn’t stop at a food truck on the way to the Clippers game and were making sandwiches instead. Typical stuff between us.
“Do you think you’ll ever get back together with Anne?”
“What?”
“You know, like get back with her. Like, romantically and stuff.”
I looked at him. He returned the look, face full of innocence.
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Just curious. So, will you?”
“Probably not,” I said, after a moment.
“How come? I thought you liked her.”
“I did. But things just didn’t work out.”
“How come?”
A man, his son, his dog, and a Sunday morning inquisition about his failed love life. Could it get any better than this?
“Sometimes my job makes it hard for me to pay attention to people the way I should. Not a lot of ladies like that. It’s hard to blame them.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Plus she’s got a new boyfriend.”
“She does?”
He nodded, reaching down to thump Hopalong.
My stomach shrank a little. “How do you know that?”
“I met him. I was playing with Amelia the other day. He was at her house.”
Against all odds, Joe and Anne’s daughter had stayed friends even after Anne broke up with me, tired of too many dropped balls and missed dates. An English professor at Columbus State, she’d been the first girlfriend in years I hadn’t treated like a doormat with boobs. But I hadn’t been there the times she needed me, either. Call it a draw, I guess.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Amelia says he’s not as funny as you.”
“Probably a good thing.”
We sat for a couple of minutes longer, listening to the sound of German Village waking up. Birds singing, cars juddering down the brick streets of the neighborhood south of downtown, the two Kevins having a just-shy-of-heated discussion across the alley about whose turn it was to clean the grill. A moment later Joe wiggled off my lap and planted himself atop Hopalong. The dog sighed in protest but didn’t move from his Labradorean repose. I shifted in my chair and realized my right leg was asleep. I picked up my cup and took a drink of lukewarm coffee and retrieved my book and read a chapter without absorbing a single word. I put it down, got up stiffly, and went inside, trailed by Joe and the dog. It was time to start mixing pancake batter and frying bacon and figuring out the best places to swim for free on a Sunday in Columbus.
