“You need help to feed your dog?”
“I need help to talk to my new neighbor. Your house has been empty ever since I’ve been here.”
I said “Okay, young lady....”
“You did it again.”
“What?”
“Called me a ‘young lady.’ That’s worse than ‘kid.’”
“You’re younger than me,” I said.
“Okay, no woman’s going to argue with that.”
And once again I took her hand in mine and, without realizing it, our fingers intertwined and started speaking a silent language that only special people can understand, and at the top of the stairs Bettie said, “Jack....”
“What?”
“Are you sure?”
“About what?”
Her face turned toward me and she reached up and took off her sunglasses. And there were those eyes. Hazel. Pure hazel. The brown and the green swirled in them. How she found the line of vision to mine was something I didn’t know. She was looking at me, watching me, then she let a smile touch her lips.
I snapped my fingers at the greyhound and damned if that dog didn’t smile at me. No tail-wagging, just a daggone smile.
Back in New York City my street was nearly ready for the macadam medical examiner. Nobody had to tell me. I knew the progression of the gravediggers that tore up the entrails of a city and spit them out in some abandoned area that developers would discover and build upon. What was strange was that I didn’t care any more. The city was in a state of flux, blowing up like a fat man who had once been skinny and raunchy and enterprising but now was dropping into the mire of his own wealth. He was fat now. He was going to get fatter.
Bettie said, “What are you thinking?”
“You wouldn’t want to know, doll.”
“Jack... you did it again.”
“What?”
“You... you called me ‘doll.’ “
“That’s you all over, baby,” I said.
Creases showed at the edges of her eyes and she told me, “It’s like hearing an echo. And echoes aren’t real.... Are they?”
“Something else was there first,” I said quietly. “Something real generates echoes... kid.”
She gave one of those girl shakes of the head that sent hair spilling across her face and her laugh had that Tinkerbell ring to it.
“Well, let’s give my big mutt two cans of his favorite dish and a big bowl of biscuits.”
I almost asked her what would come next but she beat me to the answer first. “Then you can tell me all about your past, since I don’t seem to have any.”
“Police officers are sworn to secrecy,” I growled.
“Baloney. They’re all writing books about it now. Some of them even made movies about their exploits. You ever know any of those cops, Jack?”
“Eddie Egan,” I fired back. “He was a great cop.”
“The French Connection episode?”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me do it. “Among a lot of others.”
“What did you do, Jack?”
“Routine stuff,” I said. “Everything’s based on established routine in police work. That’s why we almost always nail the bad guy.”
“And how was it when you had to leave your job?”
“Until now, it’s been lousy.”
She let out a little-girl giggle. “What’s happened to improve it?”
“I suddenly got a new neighbor. In New York City you never have a new neighbor. They’re always the ‘people next door’ or the person you nod to in the elevator every morning when you leave for work.”
She turned around and looked into my eyes. There was no identity recognition, just the crinkly movements at the corner of her mouth so that I knew she was intent upon every word I spoke when she told me, “I don’t want to be just... the person next door, Jack.”
“Bettie... you’re the very special person next door.”
Very lightly, her tongue touched her lips and they gleamed with a gentle wetness.
She filled Tacos’ bowl with a big helping of his favorite supper and put it on the floor next to the water dish. The dog never moved. There was a peculiarity in his stance that was hard to define. His eyes seemed to be nailed to mine and the tip of his tail gave a minute twitch.
I said, “Bettie, if I don’t kiss you I’m going to blow up like I swallowed a grenade.”
“Tacos will kill you if you touch me.”
“The hell he will,” I said and reached out for her, but not too far because she came right into my arms the way she used to and when our mouths touched it was like being smothered in fire of the most pleasurable pain possible. It wasn’t a long kiss. It only lasted for the years that had already gone by and absolutely made up for all the wild, crazy wait I’d had to sweat out, never knowing that this would happen.
You can’t sustain moments like that for too long. We just stood there, and even when I closed my eyes I knew whom I had kissed, but it was not to be told. Not yet. And Bettie was seeing that same invisible thing too and squeezed my hands gently.
I said, “Tacos didn’t try to bite me, kitten.”
I looked down at the dog’s head, which came up to my hip, and damned if that big old animal wasn’t wearing a grin as wide as a mile. His heavy tail gave two mighty thumps against the floor and he let out another of those pleased yips.
Very softly, Bettie said, “You’ve made another very good neighbor, Jack.”
I let her words hang in the air, then said, “I’m sorry.”
She answered, “Don’t be.”
“I’ve just gotten here. One day and look at what has happened. You know what I suddenly feel like? A heel is what I feel like, taking advantage of—”
With her forefinger she touched my lips and said, “Do you know what I suddenly feel like?”
There was no way I could answer that question logically.
“I have no memory at all of my younger days. I’ve been told that I was very pretty and bright and had young men constantly try to get... how do you say it?... next to me.”
And as suddenly as she mentioned it, she scowled, a brief flare of memory tugging up some hidden twist of recollection.
“What is it?” I asked.
For a good ten seconds she stood staring off into empty space. It was like a machine grinding away without sound. Wheels were spinning, but not propelling any energy to any of its memory banks.
Blankly, she asked me, “Jack... Jack, what just happened?”
“Something was coming back to you.”
She shook her head and wiped her hand across her eyes.
“From before your accident?” I suggested.
The shake of her head was final. “It was nothing. I can’t remember any of it. Every once in a while it happens like that.”
“Bettie... did that old vet ever get you in to see a psychiatrist when you were with him?”
A shadow of a frown touched her face again and she nodded. “Several times. Why do you ask?”
“Any conclusions on your case?”
“Yes. There has been some sort of brain damage. Nothing life-threatening, but critical enough to cause memory lapse.” She stopped abruptly and took her lower lip between her teeth. “Do we have to talk about that?”
Brain damage — two chilling words. The few amnesia cases I’d encountered over my cop years had been psychosomatic. Yet she seemed to be reacting to bits and scraps as I unintentionally jogged those brain cells, damaged or not....
I ran my hand up her forearm and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, doll. I was just being curious... and stupid.”
“No... it’s all right. I understand what sort of a curiosity I must be.” She smiled again and I wanted to kiss her again but didn’t push it.
Then she added, “You’re just being a cop, aren’t you? Always asking questions.” She raised her palm and held it to my cheek. “You’re smiling,” she told me.