The table went silent for a moment. She put her fork down on her plate, and it made a sharp, definitive noise-like an exclamation point. Finn reached out and plucked a roll from the basket on the table, tore off a piece, and dipped it in the olive oil on the table. After a moment, he said again, “Good book.”
Lissa cleared her throat. “You could make friends,” she said. “It wouldn’t be hard for someone as smart as you.”
“What the fuck is this?” Sally said loudly. A few people at other tables turned to look, then glanced away quickly. “I’m fine. I don’t need your pity, y’know. I need a place to sleep, that’s all. I’ll be gone soon enough.”
Lissa looked embarrassed. It wasn’t a look that came naturally to her. “We’re just trying to help a little, that’s all. It might be nice to get to know you a little better.”
“How about if I get to know you a little better, then?” Sally said.
“We’d be fine with that,” Lissa replied.
Sally looked at each of them in turn, a prizefighter sizing up opponents. “How old are you?” she asked Finn.
“Forty-four,” Finn replied.
“And you’re a lawyer who lives alone in a nice apartment in Charlestown?”
“Yeah.” Finn took a sip of his wine. He was more of a beer drinker, but as long as Lissa was paying, he didn’t mind having a glass of a nice cabernet. It relaxed him.
“So you’re gay.”
Finn almost spat out a ten-dollar sip of the wine. Whatever relaxation he’d achieved vanished. “What?” he choked out.
“I’ve seen your apartment,” she said. “No curtains, no pictures, no pillows on the couch. The refrigerator’s empty and there’s one toothbrush in the bathroom. There’s nothing that looks like a girl’s ever been there ever. You’re not ugly, so I assume you’re a fag.”
“I’m not gay,” Finn replied. He tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice.
“Gay,” Sally said, nodding her head.
“I am not gay!”
“Hey,” she said, “I got no problem with it. Probably make me sleep better at night.”
“I don’t have a problem with it either,” Finn said. “I’m just not gay.”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No,” Finn admitted.
“Gay.”
Finn looked over at Lissa. She looked amused. “What’s so funny?”
“This is,” Lissa said. “In fact, it pretty much defines funny.”
Finn turned to Sally. “I was dating someone. We lived together and it didn’t work out. That was a while ago, and I just haven’t found anyone else since then, okay?”
“Who was she? Did she have a penis, or was she like, an imaginary girlfriend?”
“No,” Finn said. “She was Koz’s partner when he was on the police force.”
Sally looked over at Kozlowski, who nodded. “Huh,” she said, clearly shocked that she was wrong. “So if you’re not gay, then why don’t you have a new girlfriend?”
Lissa laughed. “She’s got you nailed, Finn. That’s a question I’ve asked over and over,” Lissa said. “I’d kinda like to hear the answer.”
She wasn’t going to hear the answer, though, because before Finn could even begin to formulate a response, Sally turned on Lissa. “You two are dating, right?” she asked, nodding at Kozlowski. He’d been silent for most of the dinner, and now he squirmed at the notion of being drawn into the conversation. Lissa took the bait, though.
“We are,” she said, nodding. Kozlowski shot her a look, but she waved him off. She clearly wasn’t about to back down.
“For how long?”
“A year or so,” Lissa replied. “Maybe a little longer.”
“Why aren’t you married?”
Finn had to admire the girl; she played rough. Lissa was now squirming as much as Kozlowski was.
“It’s complicated,” she said.
“Why?” Sally asked. “You don’t love him?”
“No, I love him.”
“He doesn’t love you?”
Everyone at the table looked at Kozlowski. He looked at the cutlery. Finn had the impression he was contemplating picking up the steak knife and gouging his own eyes out.
“No, I’m sure he loves me, too,” Lissa said, answering for him. Sally kept looking at Kozlowski for a moment, though, until he gave a slight nod.
“Okay, you love him and he loves you,” Sally said. “You both seem normal, so what’s the deal?”
“We’ve talked about it,” Lissa said hesitantly.
Finn, who had been enjoying the show, was shocked by the pronouncement. “Really?” he said.
Lissa looked back and forth between Finn and Kozlowski. Kozlowski shook his head and raised his hand, signaling that she was on her own. Then Lissa settled her gaze on Finn. “This isn’t how we wanted to tell you this,” she began.
Finn felt his eyes widen. “You’re kidding, right? You two? Married?” The expression on Lissa’s face turned like the sky during a sudden, violent summer storm. “I don’t mean that the way it sounds,” Finn stammered. “I mean why not you two, right?” Lissa’s eyes darkened further. “I mean, that’s great. I really do, it’s great. What brought this on?”
“Are you pregnant?” Sally asked. She wasn’t letting up on the attack.
“No!” Lissa said. Her voice was loud and sharp, and cut through the clamor of the restaurant. She shook her head and took a deep breath and said in a more reasonable voice, “No.”
Finn looked at the two of them, not sure what to say. “Holy crap, can you imagine that? The two of you as parents?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Lissa replied.
“Why not?” Sally asked. “You’re not getting any younger.”
Kozlowski leaned in toward Sally and said quietly, “You know, Huckleberry Finn nearly got himself killed a whole bunch of times traveling down the river. The story could’ve gone another way.”
“No sweat,” Sally said. “I feel like I know you guys a lot better already. How about you guys? Can we put the twenty questions game on hold for a little while?”
Finn took another sip of his wine. Then he raised his glass. “To getting to know each other-a little more slowly,” he said. Everyone around the table raised their glasses.
It took a moment before anyone said anything else. Finally Sally spoke. “So,” she said. “What’s the deal with my father? Is he getting out anytime soon, or am I going to have to play Trivial Pursuit with you guys for the rest of my childhood?”
Finn took a deep breath. “It’s complicated.”
“Didn’t we just have this conversation?”
“No, this is genuinely complicated. I’ll get your father a new bail hearing. It may take a little time.”
“Why did he freak out today?”
“I don’t know,” Finn replied. He didn’t like lying, but he could think of no better option.
“Maybe he wanted to get away from me.”
“You’re smarter than that,” Lissa said.
“Am I? What would you do if you found out you had a kid you never wanted? Would you run?”
Lissa considered the question. “No,” she said. “I wouldn’t.”
“Maybe you’re a better person than my parents.”
Finn said nothing. There was nothing to say. He could have tried to persuade her that he knew how she felt. After all, his own parents had abandoned him. He’d had to grow up quickly and learn to fend for himself, just as she had. There was a difference, though, and he knew it. He’d never known his parents. To him, they were specters in the mist. On his good days, growing up, he’d convinced himself that there was a reason beyond selfishness for their absence. He’d invent myths-romantic tales of intrigue that had forced his parents to leave him. The story of Moses in the bulrushes, told to the children in the orphanages by stern nuns, had always appealed to him. Perhaps, like some biblical king, he’d been set adrift for a purpose, and his mother and father lived their lives watching over him until the day when they could reveal themselves to him.
They were childish dreams, but he’d clung to them. Deep down, he still did. And that was what set Sally apart. She could hold no such illusions. She knew who her parents were, and they knew her. Her abandonment was personal. He could never convince her otherwise, because he didn’t believe it.