“Will you come and visit us?”
“Maybe we won’t have to. Maybe you and your mom will be back home before it’s time for a visit.”
“Really?”
“Cross my heart.”
“How soon? Two weeks?”
“Not that soon.”
“Before the Fourth of July fireworks?”
“We’ll see. If you promise to be good and take care of your mom.”
“I will. I promise, Granpa.”
More longing, more painful pretense.
When Hollis heard the doorbell he thought it was Pierce and stayed where he was. Then Cassie appeared and told him it was Gabe. He left Kenny to his video game and went out to the living room.
Mannix was seated on the couch beside Angela, holding her hand and talking earnestly. Whatever he was saying had spawned a wan smile. She’d always been fond of him; said more than once that he was like an uncle to her. The expression on Mannix’s craggy face was anything but avuncular. If any other middle-aged man had looked at his daughter with that kind of wistful yearning, Hollis would have resented it. Not so with Gabe. They’d been friends too long — and his feelings for her were not only unspoken but close to worshipful besides. He was a lusty bugger with every woman except Angela. And Cassie, too, of course.
He gave Hollis a crooked grin, still holding her hand. “I was in the neighborhood,” he said.
“Sure you were.
“Well, I couldn’t let them leave without saying good-bye, could I?”
“No, and I’m glad you didn’t. If I’d been thinking straight, I’d’ve invited you. Cup of coffee?”
“You don’t mind, I’d rather have a little hair of the dog.”
“Big night?”
“Big night with small people. Scotch, single malt.”
Hollis poured three fingers of Glenlivet for Gabe, resisting the urge to do the same for himself. In his fragile and volatile state, alcohol was a dangerous additive. The four of them sat talking desultorily, each avoiding the subjects of Rakubian and the temporary relocation. After a time Eric came downstairs to join them.
Then Pierce showed up.
At least he wasn’t as scruffy-looking as last week. Hair trimmed, clean-shaven, an old corduroy sport jacket and slacks in place of the western outfit. Ill at ease, though, and seeing both Gabe and Eric didn’t help him any. Eric had nothing to say to him; ignored his tentative greeting and went back upstairs. Mannix’s reaction was a surprised double-take and then a fixed scowl. Pierce seemed to sense that offering to shake hands was inviting rebuff. He didn’t try it with Hollis, either.
He perched on a chair nearest Angela, who moved away from Gabe and closer to him. Cassie, the social arbiter, went to fetch Kenny, but the boy’s presence did little to ease the strain in the room. He seemed no more pleased to see Pierce than the rest of them.
Pierce ruffled his hair, something he didn’t like adults to do, and asked, “How’s it going, sport?”
“Okay,” Kenny said. Then he said, “Are you really my dad?”
Pierce’s smile sagged; his answer sounded defensive. “Sure I am. You know that.”
“Then why don’t you live with us? Why’d you stay away so long? Why aren’t you going away with us?”
Cassie fielded that, saying, “Kenny, how about showing your father how good you are at Pokémon. Your mom’ll go along, too.”
Angela took the hint and the three of them went out, Pierce rubbing shoulders with her and holding the boy’s hand — as if for him the past eighteen months had been wiped off the slate and they were a family again. Watching them, Hollis wished he’d poured Scotch for himself after all. Mannix didn’t like it, either. He drained his glass and got to his feet.
Cassie said, “You’re not leaving already, Gabe?”
“Things to do. No rest for the wicked.”
“Go in and say good-bye to Angela before you go.”
“I already said my good-byes.”
He pecked Cassie on the cheek, glanced at Hollis as he turned. The look said he wanted to talk. Hollis followed him to the door, out onto the porch.
As soon as they were alone: “What’s that little prick doing here, Jack? When did he come crawling back?”
“A few days ago.”
“You should’ve warned me.”
“I know. Just not tracking like I should.”
“Well, what the hell is he sucking around for?”
Hollis gave a terse explanation.
“Changed?” Gabe said. “Him? Bullshit.”
“Angela seems to be buying it.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Looks to me like he’s trying to worm his way back with her. You don’t think she’s naive enough to let it happen?”
“She isn’t naive. She’s scared.”
“Meaning she might?”
“Meaning I don’t know. Cassie thinks she’s still in love with him.”
“Christ! After all this time?”
“I don’t want to believe it, either.”
“You can’t let her get involved with him again.”
“What do you want me to do, spank it out of her? It’s her life, Gabe. Her choices.”
“Damn poor choices when it comes to men,” Mannix said. “First Pierce, then Rakubian, now Pierce again. Did she tell him where she’s going?”
“She’s not telling anyone the exact location, including Cassie and me.”
“Suppose he follows her?”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“He showed up here, didn’t he.”
“She’ll take precautions. She won’t allow anything to jeopardize the relocation.”
“I hope you’re right. Little pissant. The way he treated her and the boy...”
“Get off Pierce, will you?” Hollis said. “He’s not the main problem here.”
Mannix ran a hand over his face, worked his mouth as if he were tasting something sour. “Yeah, Rakubian. What’re you going to do about him?”
Hollis said carefully, “If I had the answer to that I’d’ve done it long ago.”
“You’ve got the answer. You just won’t face up to it.”
“Get off that, too, all right?”
Mannix looked at him for several seconds, his expression unreadable. Then he shrugged and said, “All right. I’ll be around if you want to talk some more. Right now I need another hair of the dog. Hell, the way I feel I may try to swallow the whole frigging pelt.”
Monday
He kissed his daughter and grandson good-bye a little before seven-thirty. She was anxious to get on the road early, drive as far as Winnemucca today so she could get to Salt Lake City tomorrow night. Dark smudges under her eyes, twitchy movements, her gaze darting to the street the entire time he and Eric were helping load her car as though she half expected Rakubian to come roaring up in his BMW. Eric wasn’t in much better shape today. Withdrawn, mostly silent. Conscience working on him, too, Hollis thought.
The good-byes were brief and awkward. Quick kisses that were little more than pecks, even Kenny’s. Eric’s hand dry in his, and the contact broken in an instant. Thin smiles, hurried promises, halfhearted reassurances. Angela and Eric left together, a two-car procession with her in the lead; he would follow her all the way to Highway 80, to make certain she had no pursuit. It twisted Hollis again to know that there was no need for any of this and yet he was powerless to stop it.
He stood with Cassie in the driveway, her arm tight around his waist, watching both cars pass from sight, and for some time after they were gone. When he felt her looking at him he made eye contact.
She said, “I feel a little lost right now. You know what I mean?”
He knew, all right. He felt that way himself.
All that morning, working at his drafting board, he was on tenterhooks. Had he overlooked anything at the Chesterton site to make Pete Dulac’s crew suspicious? He was unable to conjure up a clear image of the way the excavation looked when he’d finished cleaning up. Saturday had begun to recede in his memory, the details to blur, as if he’d been an observer rather than a participant — like with a movie he’d seen, or one of those queer omniscient dreams in which you stand apart and watch yourself doing things that make little or no sense.