“And you,” he said. “One of the things I love about you is that you do what you want to do and to hell with what people think.”
“Do you really see me that way?” I said.
“Sure you wear that same black dress every time we go to something fancy, and you’re marrying me. I rest my case. Now come on, Ms. Kilbourn, we were having a pleasant evening, let’s keep the good vibe going.”
“Do you want to come in?”
Zack shook his head. “Yes, but I have to go back to the office. Glenda called while you and Taylor were in the bathroom at the restaurant. She needs to talk. I’m meeting her at eight.” He glanced at his watch. “By my reckoning, that gives you and me time for a short session of romance.”
I moved closer. “It’s always all about you, isn’t it?”
“You bet. I paid for dinner, and that chocolate mud pie you ordered didn’t come cheap.”
It was too early to go to bed, I was too restless to read, and there was nothing I wanted to watch on TV. Inspiration about how I could spend the evening came when I looked out my bedroom window and saw a lone figure dart into the front yard of a house two doors down from me, emerge with a pumpkin in its hands, and spike it on the pavement. The village of jack-o’-lanterns we had created in front of our house was ripe for the picking. It was time to give our pumpkins an honourable burial in the compost bin. I started to call Taylor to help, but the prospect of spending time alone in the fresh cold air, stretching my muscles in a totally mindless task was seductive, so I tiptoed past her door.
I’d made one trip to the compost pile with the wheelbarrow and was on the front lawn loading up again when a voice called to me from the darkness. “Need a hand with that?”
I turned and saw Howard Dowhanuik. I was struck by two things: no matter the weather, Howard’s bald head was bare, but tonight he was wearing a toque; equally significantly, he was still sober. “Be my guest,” I said. We worked silently but comfortably, and when the last jack-o’-lantern was broken and stirred into the dead leaves, I suggested we go inside for tea. Howard didn’t ask for anything stronger, and I took that as a good sign.
We sat at the kitchen table. Howard made no effort to remove his toque. For the first time in a long time, he seemed at peace with himself, and the toque, scarlet with a whimsical Nordic pattern of elves at play, made him look reassuringly avuncular.
“So how did you make out with Margot?” I asked.
“Good. She’s a smart broad.” Howard caught himself. “Make that a smart ‘woman.’ ”
“Duly noted,” I said. I poured our tea. “Howard, what’s going on?”
“I told you. I thought I needed a lawyer, and I was right. The cops were back this afternoon. They went through all the garbage cans at the condo. It seems someone dumped my garbage and Kathryn’s, hosed down the cans, then put the garbage back in. My garbage was all mixed up with hers. Probably a prank.”
“No doubt,” I said. “The old dump-out-the-garbage/hose-down-the-cans/replace-the-garbage trick. We’ve all done it.”
Howard had the grace to look chagrined. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have tried to snow you, but you did ask, and my lawyer has instructed me not to tell.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll do the talking. I saw Charlie this afternoon. I went to his house to convey your message.”
Howard grunted, but he leaned forward, eager to hear news of his son. “And …?”
“And,” I said. “Mieka and Peter were with him. I won’t lie to you, Howard. I’m not thrilled that Charlie is involving my kids. Last night, Mieka and Pete both walked away from their own lives to be with your son, and this isn’t kid stuff any more. There will be consequences – serious consequences.”
My reference to the price my kids were paying for their loyalty to Charlie bounced right off Howard. His focus was narrow. “So why did Charlie want Mieka and Pete there?”
“Make an educated guess,” I said.
“Charlie needs an alibi,” Howard said.
“Bingo,” I said. “And Mieka is prepared to say she spent the night with Charlie. In my opinion, it’s a stupid decision. If she’s lying, she’s opening herself to a charge of perjury. If she’s telling the truth, she’s jeopardizing her marriage.”
“That’s not the point,” Howard said. “The question is – can she and Charlie make this story stick?” In a gesture I knew well from the old political days, each word of his question was separated by a pause and each pause was punctuated by a chop of his hand.
I was livid. “Is that all that matters to you? You’ve known Mieka all her life. Don’t you care about her marriage or about the fact that she’s doing something unethical? Howard, Peter left his clinic today to help Charlie work out a story. You’re Pete’s godfather. Don’t you care about him?”
“I’m sorry Mieka and Pete are involved, Jo. Really, I am. But your kids are strong enough to see this through. Through no fault of his own, Charlie isn’t.”
“So we pay for the fact that you were a lousy parent,” I said.
“Yes,” Howard said. “You do, because this is my last chance.” He reached up to rub his head and his hand encountered the toque. He ripped it off angrily. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me I was still wearing this?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “Do you know who gave me this? My daughters? Remember them?”
“Of course,” I said. “Both medical doctors. Marnie was very proud of them. She was proud of all her children.”
“She wouldn’t be proud of the way they’ve cut themselves off from me. I hear from them twice a year – on my birthday and at Christmas. This goddamn clown’s hat was last year’s gift – from both of them. That’s how little they know their father.”
“How could they know you,” I said. “You were never there.”
