know.'
'Apparently.'
'Is it acceptable if I wait here?' she asked.
'I don't mind he said.
She smiled with a certain sheepishness, as if embarrassed over revealing a weakness. She leaned to him quickly and kissed him on the cheek.
'Thanks' she said.
'I do appreciate it' He pushed her away slightly.
'No big show of affection here' said Thomas. He was looking at the door to the Grover house. A man was leaving. Thomas studied him closely.
It was a tall erect man with a briefcase, a man in a gray suit covered by an open topcoat. He gave a stark smile to the young girl on the flagstone path and the girl responded perfunctorily, without emotion.
The man walked toward the blue Pontiac.
Thomas stepped from his own car and called to the other man, calling him by Grovees name. Thomas studied the other man intently as he called. Thomas was ignored.
'Do you want my father, mister?' a small female voice asked. The young girl couldn't understand why the visitor had mistaken someone else for her father. She was quick to correct the error.
Then she led Thomas to her front door and into the house, calling for her father as she turned and saw the second arrival, the woman, sitting in Daniels's car.
Thomas heard a man's deep voice saying,
'Yes, sir?' He turned to see the portly stationery-store owner emerging from a swinging door which led from the kitchen.
'Hello' said Thomas mildly.
'You're Jonathan Grover?'
'I am' said Grover cautiously. A woman in an apron emerged from the kitchen behind him. Elaine Grover stood behind her husband.
'My name is Thomas Daniels' he said, and getting no response he added after a moment,
'My father was William Ward Daniels.'
Grover looked at him blankly, then broke suddenly into a broad smile.
'I'll be God damned! Of course' Grover said.
'You look just like him. Same face, same hair. Remarkable. Same profession, Mr. Daniels?'
'Similar.'
'I see' answered Grover with a trifle of hesitation.
'Well, then, I don't know what brings you here, but if you'd like to step in for some coffee, we'll chat' Thomas followed, leaving Leslie in the car behind him, completely out of his view.
Chapter 25
Thomas Daniels found himself seated at a long walnut dining room table. Why a family of three would have such a large table, at which eight could comfortably fit, was a small transient mystery to Thomas. Grover moved to the other end of the table, walking with a slight waddle, and wedged his suet-laden frame into a captain's chair.
He folded his arms before him on the table and, by his presence and his very corpulence, seemed to be a man who'd spent many happy hours in that location.
Elaine Grover served them coffee. And a cinnamon cake. Grover took two ample pieces and Elaine offered the rest to their guest.
Thomas declined with a smile.
'No, no, I insist,' said Grover, his mouth full and speaking with a voice muffled by pastry.
'It's excellent.'
Elaine hadn't moved the cake from where she held it for Thomas.
Thomas, reassessing his decision, took the smallest piece offered.
Grover took another piece as it passed by him again and was working on that third piece when he began to speak.
'Damned good, isn't it?' he said.
Trying to be sociable, Thomas agreed.
'I'll get you another piece before you leave' Grover said.
'Elaine will wrap it up. You can take it with you.' His lips smacked as he spoke, punctuating his sentences.
Grover continued for several minutes, dipping into a monologue on his wife's baking.
'Married, Daniels?' he asked, not waiting for an answer.
'Marry a woman who can cook. A wife's got two jobs to do. Cooking's the other one.' He continued, moving on to the comparative merits of the bakeries of lower Manhattan.
'The French think they're the bakers,' he postulated between gulps of coffee.
'French don't know crap about pastry. Show me a great baker and I'll show you an Italian He allowed himself a satisfied smile. Thomas returned it. Grover was no fool. He'd just admitted who he was, his origins around Mulberry Street.
'How's the city?' he asked.
'I never go there no more ' 'It's still there' said Thomas.
'It's a great town,' Grover said, as if reminiscing.
'But it's a young man's town, don't you think? I had myself some times there.'
He looked over his shoulder to the door to the kitchen. As if on cue, Elaine reappeared with coffee and more cake. Thomas received more without asking.
When Mrs. Grover disappeared again, Thomas spoke, put at ease somewhat by the large man's informality.
'I was afraid I'd have difficulty with you' he said.
'You wouldn't want to admit, you know, who.
'Who I am?, 'Yes Grover stretched his expansive shoulders.
'What's there to deny?
I don't shoot my mouth off around this town. But you? You're your father's son. Why would I lie to you? You probably knew more about me than I do myself,' he chomped.
'I doubt it' Thomas conceded.
'I'll tell you something' said Grover, leaning forward slightly as if to share a secret.
'I don't say
'I'm sorry' for nothing I ever done.
Nothing' Behind the conspiratorial smile were hard eyes.
'The neighborhood where I grew up was a cesspool of robbing and stealing and knifing. I done what I did to get out of it.'
'I'm sure you did,' said Thomas, anxious to strike a point of agreement. And equally anxious to move on to more pressing matters.
'I'll bet you would have done the same' ' Thomas shrugged, without indication either way.
'You wouldn't have?'
'I don't know. I wasn't in your situation. A man never knows what he'll do in a situation until he's in it.' A good response, Daniels congratulated himself. He was certain now that the cagey Grover was trying to manipulate the conversation.
'Good point' allowed Grover. He nodded in thought.
'Your Dad used to say something similar. What was it?'
'I'm not sure' 'Have some more cake' he said with a rising laugh.
