“Well, that?s good,” I said awkwardly.
She laughed. “What a silly thing to say,” she replied. “I?ll be staying at Windsong for a week or so,
alone. Harry?s staying at the townhouse. I?m coming out here after the party tonight.”
“Party?”
“Babs? cocktail party, you goose. If you miss it, she?ll kill you— that?s if I don?t do it first. See you at
six. Thank you for coming back, Jake. I love you, my sweet.”
“Uh, yeah, me too.”
She hung up.
I cradled the phone and turned around to finish dressing. A minute crept by before Stick said, without
looking up from his paper, “You really got it bad. You can hardly talk to the woman.” Before I could
protest, he held his hand up and closed his eyes.
“Please, don?t insult me by telling me that was your insurance man.”
“That?s right, it was my insurance man,” I said with mock irritation.
“She wants to crawl all over your bones, right? It?s always like that the morning after.”
“How come you reduce everything to a cliche? Maybe this is different.”
“It?s different, all right. I?ll give you that in spades, friend. It is unique. Her old man owns the town,
her husband runs the town, you?d like to put him in jail, at least for murder if nothing better pops up,
and you tell me it?s different! That?s the understatement of the year.”
“It?s only a problem if I make it a problem.”
“You?ve already made it a problem, putz! What in the flick do you call a problem if this isn?t one?”
“Dunetown. There?s a problem.”
I finished dressing and ate another piece of soggy toast.
“Okay,” I blurted, “it?s a problem. She?s rooted too deep, man. I haven?t been able to get her out of
my mind for twenty years. I keep thinking it was the best shot I ever had. I want another crack at it.
I?m stuck on what could have been instead of what is.”
“Aren?t we all,” Stick said, with surprising bitterness. There was another pause before he added, “I
think I missed something. The part about the price you have to pay. Or did you leave that out?”
“I don?t know the price. That?s the big question.”
“I don?t know what could have been,” Stick said. “Want to run that by me?”
Now there was a rueful occupation—thinking about what could have been. But if I couldn?t trust
Stick, who the hell could I trust? Suddenly I heard myself laying it all out for him, starting from the
day Teddy and I became football roommates at Georgia and ending on the day I got the kiss-off from
Chief. I didn?t leave out anything I threw it all in—heart, soul, anger, hurt, all the feelings that my
