anything. I had nothing to say. We were quiet. The swan boat came under the bridge with its attendant ducks. The first three rows of benches were occupied by a group of Japanese tourists. Most of them had cameras. I always assumed that somebody in their passport office told them that if you travel in a foreign land, and you are Japanese, you are expected to carry a camera.
'She reminded me of some of the issues we had to resolve when I went away from you before,' Susan said.
'Um hmm,' I said.
'My attraction to inappropriate men, for instance.'
Her voice had a musing sound to it, as if she weren't exactly talking to me.
'Um hmm.'
'And I said to her, `Remind me again, if I had this need how did I end up with Spenser?' '
'You thought I was inappropriate,' I said.
She turned her gaze away from the middle distance and onto me. She seemed startled.
'Yes,' she said.
'And now you don't,' I said.
'You are the best man I've ever known. If anything, I may not deserve you.'
I didn't know what to do with that, but the conversation was going my way and I didn't want it to stop.
'Because the way your father was,' I said.
'And the way my mother made me feel about it.'
'Your first love was an inappropriate man.'
'And my mother convinced me that I didn't deserve him.'
'You only deserve men like Brad, or Russell Costigan.'
'Yes.'
'But when you get them, you can't stay with them because they aren't up to you.'
Susan smiled tiredly.
'Something like that, though I wonder, sometimes, if there's anyone who wouldn't be up to me.'
She said it in a way that put quotation marks around 'up to me' and boldfaced 'me.'
'This is about why you asked me to help Brad Sterling.' I said.
'I guess it is.'
'So why did you?'
'Some sort of guilt, I guess. I married him for his failings and when they persisted, I left him.'
'Doesn't seem fair, does it?'
In view from every place on the little bridge were flowers in spring luxuriance. On the Arlington Street side were beds of tulips which would dazzle you if you were a flower kind of guy. The ornamental trees were in lacy blossom as well, their flowers much less assertive than the tulips. There were a lot of other flowers as well, but I didn't know what they were. I wasn't a flower kind of guy.
'Brad's only fault,' Susan said in a voice that seemed to come from somewhere far off, 'was to continue to be what I married him for being.'
I waited. Susan sounded like she might be through, but I didn't want to say anything to keep her from going on. We were quiet. The small wind moved through the flowering trees and shook some of the blossoms loose and scattered them on the surface of the pond. A brown duck with a bottle green head went rapidly over to investigate, found it not to his liking, and veered away. Susan remained still looking at the pond. She was through.
'A number of other people have left him,' I said. 'Including his own sister.'
'I know,' she said and started looking at the distance again. 'Poor guy, he's lost so much in his life. Maybe…'
She shook her head and stopped talking again. 'Maybe if you'd stayed, he would have turned into something else?' I said. 'That's some power you've got there, toots.'
'I know, I know. But… he very much didn't want the divorce.'
'Of course he didn't. But you can't stay with someone because they want you to.'
'I know,' Susan said.
She knew it was true, but she didn't believe it. I took in some air and let it out.
'You made a mistake marrying Brad,' I said. 'And you corrected it. You took up with me for the wrong reasons and then found out they were wrong and made a mistake with Russell Costigan and corrected that. It may have been bad for them, but it was good for me and, I think, for you. There's no reason for guilt.'
'And now I've got you involved in a big mess,' she said.
That seemed a separate issue to me, but I thought it wise not to be picky.
'Big Mess is my middle name,' I said.
