“Not that I know of.”
“Really? I’m surprised.”
“Don’t be. Lieutenant Very’s on his way back to Dorset as we speak. Has to clean out Augie’s apartment. He’s the man’s executor and sole heir. Not that Augie left him much of value.”
“That GTO isn’t exactly chopped liver. And you should see Augie’s collection of vintage Playboy magazines.”
“I’ll pass on those, thanks. Very is planning to stay in the apartment for a few days.”
“Is Yolie pumped about it?”
“Actually, she told me she keeps feeling as if she’s about to throw up.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad sign.”
“Yeah, it is. He’s making her dinner there Saturday night.”
“Get out, the guy cooks, too?”
“That’s just what I said.” Des took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Mitch, it was sweet of you to do this but you really don’t have to stay.”
“Will you stop being such a butthead already?”
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“I want to be here with you. Don’t you get it? This is what people who love each other do. I’m not going anywhere, period. So just deal with it, tough guy.” He fished a dog-eared paperback from his back pocket. “If it’ll make things any easier you can just pretend I’m not here, okay?”
“What’s that you’re reading?”
“A collection of essays by the late, great H. L. Mencken.”
“Since when are you into him?”
“I’m not. Let’s just say my curiosity was piqued recently.”
He turned his attention to his book. Des returned to her drawing, focusing on Augie’s facial expression-the total shock that was frozen there for all time. She drew. Mitch read his book. She kept on drawing. Mitch kept on reading. Each of them in their separate spaces. Until, slowly, Des reached over and found Mitch’s hand with hers. He gave it a squeeze and held on to it. And, together, they waited.
