Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘That’s pretty corny.’
‘But discreet,’ Annalee said. She put the number in her purse without looking at it.
As soon as the door closed behind Jason, Daniel turned to Annalee and said, ‘I’ll bet you a hundred nights of doing dishes against that old piece of celery in the fridge that you were with Shamus today.’
‘You shouldn’t try to take advantage of your mother when she’s in a weakened condition. No bet, kiddo. But I must say you’re either very perceptive or I’m really transparent.’
‘Well, it was easy for me to tell because you got a look just like you had that morning after the first time you spent the night with him.’
‘What sort of look? Glowing? Transported? Stupid?’
‘Yeah. Except I would say it was more like shining and happy and a little bit worried. No, not worried – sad.’
‘That about covers it,’ Annalee said. Shamus had specifically asked her not to tell Daniel about the plutonium theft he was plotting, but he didn’t know Daniel like she did. She’d agreed not to tell him. But she trusted Daniel more than she could ever trust Shamus. The powerful combination of girls’ rules and mothers’ rules provided an exception. She told Daniel everything except the target. When she finished, he had his usual barrage of questions. The first one twisted her heart.
‘Do you think he can pull it off?’
‘Arrggh,’ Annalee groaned. ‘The only trouble with you men is that you’re males! What difference does it make if he pulls it off? If he doesn’t he’s dead or in prison for a billion years, and if he does he’s hunted into the ground. There’s no fucking difference, don’t you see? When I’m with Shamus, there’s something between us that I need. It’s not Shamus and it’s not me; it’s what we are together. A connection. A circuit. And if we’re not together there’s no connection and the circuit’s broken and the juice doesn’t flow. And whether he steals the plutonium or not we won’t be together.’
‘You’re in love?’
‘I’d like the chance to find out.’
Daniel thought for a moment. ‘Maybe you better call that number Jason gave you and get more information.’
‘I can’t. It would be a betrayal. They’d try to stop him.’
‘No, I meant get some information on love. You wouldn’t have to mention the plutonium.’
‘Daniel, I would have to. Besides, I’ve got more information on love than I need.’
‘Well, maybe you could talk Shamus out of it.’
‘Maybe I could talk a bird out of the sky.’
Daniel started putting away the chess pieces. ‘I don’t see any good endings.’
‘Me either.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Enjoy it while I can and cry when it’s over.’
Daniel gave her a puzzled look but said nothing. He folded the chessboard and put it back in its box. ‘I thought of a good ending.’
‘Tell me.’
‘If Shamus steals the plutonium and gets them to close all the nuclear plants, maybe he’ll be a hero. Maybe they’ll give him a medal instead of putting him in prison, and you could get married.’
‘You want to bet a hundred nights of dishes on it?’
‘No.’
‘How about one night for you against a thousand for me?’
‘Sure. I’ll always bet that anything can happen. I love longshots.’
‘Oh yeah? Well I love you.’ She put an arm around his shoulder and squeezed him to her side. ‘Thanks for the moral support.’ She giggled. ‘Moral support. Can you give moral support to an unwed mother forger who has her head up her heart over some crazy poet planning a plutonium heist? Jesus, Daniel, I have no idea what I’m doing.’
Daniel gave her a little hug, but he didn’t say anything.
Annalee saw Shamus once a week for the first month, running checks on each other to be sure they weren’t followed. When things seemed secure, they began meeting more often, but always at his apartment on the edge of Richmond. Daniel went with her sometimes, but on those occasions they’d meet Shamus at a prearranged location and go to a movie or an A’s game or drive up the coast in Annalee’s old Toyota. Daniel didn’t accompany them often. He felt that he disturbed some current between them. Shamus also seemed to be trying too hard to impress him. And it bothered him that Shamus never mentioned that he was planning to steal some plutonium.
When Shamus and Annalee had been lovers again for almost half a year, he asked if she would help him with the theft.
Annalee sat up in bed, an unseasonably warm October breeze from the open window billowing her hair. ‘Doing what?’
‘I’d rather not tell you until it’s all set up. That’s for your protection, you understand. In fact, I’ll be the only one to know you’re involved. But the task itself is safe and simple, and it requires someone I absolutely trust.’
Annalee said softly, ‘I don’t want you to do it, you know. Which doesn’t mean I won’t help you with everything I’ve got.’
‘Sweetie, I’m going to try whether you help me or not. And I’ll love you whether I succeed or not. But I can’t love you if we’re nuked into oblivion. There are things more important than us.’
‘Well, go make love to them.’ Annalee tossed her hair. ‘Go make love to the world.’
Shamus touched her bare shoulder with his black-gloved hand, then ran it gently down her spine. ‘I am,’ he said.
Trembling, Annalee slid down beside him and put her hand on his chest. ‘I’ll help you.’
As Christmas approached, Shamus became increasingly moody and intensely preoccupied. He explained to Annalee that he’d hoped to steal the plutonium on Christmas Eve but that the plan wasn’t coming together. Some of the people he needed wouldn’t be available till late January. It was the first she’d heard that others would be involved. She knew better than to ask who they were or how many were included, but she was worried to learn of accomplices – the more who knew, the greater the risk. Shamus assured her they didn’t know each other and, with two exceptions, would never meet – and the two who would meet would be together less than ten minutes, and that would be after the job. He still wouldn’t tell Annalee her role in the heist. When she argued that she’d like to be prepared, he promised he’d tell her in plenty of time.
For Christmas Shamus gave Daniel a beautifully framed copy of the Periodic Table of the Elements from which he’d carefully excised what he called ‘the transuranium abominations.’ He gave Annalee a lovely gold chain necklace, each delicate link intricately connected to the next in a different way. As she examined it again later in her bedroom mirror, she was taken with the terrifying understanding that she was all he had left of reality. She felt a wild impulse to rip the necklace off and tear it apart, but instead she flung herself on the bed and wept. She wished it would happen, be over, end – even though she still didn’t see a good ending. But her and Daniel’s present to Shamus at least kept the faith of a happy conclusion. When he opened their package, he found seventeen separate identities to choose from. He laughed at the Harvard diploma certifying his doctorate in chemistry. It was the only time he laughed all day.