were more you than you've ever been.'
'I think this may be my moment,' I said. 'I understand what you said.'
Still carrying her wine glass, she turned away from the window and came back to the counter and sat again.
'Do you know why I've been so bitchy lately?'
'Is bitchy an acceptable phrase for a feminist?' I said.
'No. Do you know?'
'Has something to do with Brad Sterling.'
'Do you have a theory on what the something is?'
'Well, I'd say something about him, or my connection to him, scares you.'
'Yes,' Susan said. 'I think that's right. Do you know what it is?'
'No.'
'That's the thing,' Susan said. 'I don't either, and being scared and not knowing of what makes me frantic.'
'You're not used to it,' I said.
'No I'm not. And,' she shook her head, – 'physician heal thyself-I decided simply to deny it.'
'And yet you would ask about him.'
'Of course, how could I not be interested? I had gotten myself into a situation I couldn't tolerate.'
'And therefore…'
'And therefore bitchy,' Susan said.
'Like you are about Russell Costigan,' I said.
Susan took in a deep breath and let it out. I was finished tearing the romaine and the steaks were done. I took the steaks off the grill and put them on the cutting board to rest.
'You are so much fun,' Susan said. 'And you're so nice to people who need being nice to, and you're so nice to me that it is easy to forget how hard you are.'
I got out a container of cajun spice that a guy had sent me from Louisiana and sprinkled some on the steaks. There was nothing to be gained here by opening my mouth.
'But it's not meanness, is it,' Susan said.
I wasn't entirely sure she was talking just to me.
'You think I need to make the connection between how I feel about Brad and how I feel about Russell Costigan.'
I nodded.
'And you know how difficult this is for me, which is why you are being very quiet.'
I nodded.
'You are, of course, right, you bastard.'
'Don't you hate when that happens,' I said.
Susan nodded. I began to cut the steaks into small squares. Susan was quiet. I looked up at her and there were tears running down her face.
'Jesus Christ,' I said.
She turned her head away. But she couldn't stop her shoulders from shaking. Pearl raised her head from the couch and looked at Susan with a mixture of annoyance and anxiety. I came around the counter and started to put an arm around her shoulder. She stood and turned half away from me. Her shoulders were shaking hard now and she was cursing to herself.
'Goddamn it,' she said. 'Goddamn it, goddamn it.'
I moved around so I was facing her and put my arms around her. It was like embracing a coat hanger. I didn't force it. But I didn't take my arms away.
'What is wrong with me?' she said. 'What in hell is wrong with me?'
'Don't know yet,' I said. 'But we'll find out.'
And then it broke and she leaned in against me and put both her arms as far around me as she could reach and sobbed. Pearl got off the couch and came over and tried to get her head in between our thighs and failing that put her head against mine and looked up at me. She'd have to wait.
chapter thirty
WE DIDN'T GET to sleep until very late that night and got up far too early in the morning. Susan was very late, so she left Pearl with me for further spoiling. I fed Pearl and walked her and now she was in the office with me looking out my window and barking at things on Berkeley Street. I was drinking coffee and sharing an oatmeal scone with Pearl and trying to feel perkier when Quirk came in. Pearl abandoned me at once and hustled over. Quirk bent down low enough for Pearl to give him a lap, and scratched her behind the right ear for a moment before he straightened up.
