“Can you talk to your
father about that?”
Candace nodded.
“Daddy says she won’t be mean.”
“Your mother probably loves you,” Jesse said.
“Of course she does.”
“Then we should be able to bring her around if we have to,”
Jesse said.
“Can I change his name? I hate Goldie for a name.”
“Sure, just go slow. Wait until he’s used to
you.”
“I have to think of a new name anyway.”
“You might ask your mother to help you think of a new name,”
Jesse said.
“So she’d feel like he was hers
too?”
“Something like that,” Jesse said.
They were still for a minute. The heater still on, the motor still running, Candace looking through the car window at the motionless dog.
“It’ll be all right?” she said.
“It will,” Jesse said. “But you
have to give it
time.”
They sat silently for another moment.
Then Candace said, “Can we get him now?”
“Sure.”
They got out of the car and walked through the old unlovely snow
toward Valenti’s front door. The dog watched them for a moment, and
then stood and came down the fence line toward them.
61
Parking on Beacon Hill was impossible in mid summer. In winter,
with plowed snow choking the narrow streets, it had become unthinkable. Jesse finally settled for a hydrant on Beacon Street down from the State House, and walked in along Spruce Street, carrying a flowered bottle of Perrier- Jouet.
Rita lived at the Mt. Vernon Street end of Louisburg Square in a
high narrow brick townhouse with a dark green door and gold-tipped wrought-iron fencing across the tiny front yard. Jesse rang the bell, and in a moment Rita opened the door.
“Criminal law pays good,” Jesse said as he stepped into the dark
red foyer.
“Better than working for the Norfolk County DA, which is what I
used to do,” Rita said.
They went into her living room. There was a fireplace with a fire going. The room was done in a strong yellow with gold drapes striped with dark red. Rita was all in ivory: pants and blouse, and three-inch ivory heels.
“I don’t know which is more
impressive,” Jesse said. “You or the house.”
“Me,” Rita said and took the champagne bottle from
him.
“Will you join me in some of this?” she said.
“No. I’ll have some club soda, with
cranberry juice if you have
it.”
“I noticed,” Rita said. “I also
have orange
juice.”
“I’ll start with the cranberry and
