Bones?
Sure. Kneecaps. Like that.
Sure, Butch, I chuckled, have them call me up. We’ll do lunch.
For a moment, just a moment, I thought it might be a real good idea.
41.
The office, when I finally got there, seemed a touch unreal. The light was too bright. The furniture shimmered in the fluorescence, vague, unfamiliar. My colleagues had a vulpine air. I saw an accusation in every glance. I tried to avoid them. I closed my office door.
All I wanted to do was sleep. I eyed the sofa on the far wall. It threatened to seduce me. I fought to resist its charms. Its soft cushions. Its inordinate length. Room enough and then some for a tall man, say six foot two, to lie upon. To sleep. To dream.
I shook myself. I had a job to do.
What next?
I figured it was time to talk to Jules again. Get his take on the twins. Find out why he didn’t tell me about them. An innocent omission, perhaps? Never came up?
Sure.
At the loft I rang the bell. Nobody answered. I rang again. I waited. I rang a third time. A small, thin voice came through the speaker. Yes?
It’s Rick Redman, I said. Is Jules there?
No, the voice said.
Maybe I could come in and wait for him?
No, said the voice.
Charm school. A wonderful thing.
Is this Lisa? I asked.
There was a long pause.
What do you want? the voice asked.
It’s Rick, I said. I’m the lawyer. Helping Jules. Would you mind letting me in? I won’t bother you. I’ll just hang around. You can throw me out any time you want.
Another long silence.
The buzzer rang.
I pulled open the door. I found my way to Jules’s door. It was ajar. Nobody in sight. I called Lisa’s name. No answer. I invited myself in. I found an Anchor Steam in the fridge. I sat down on the beanbag chair. Brown corduroy. Nice. I sipped the beer. It was cold. It felt good.
Lisa appeared. She was eyeing me from the other end of the huge room. She looked as small and frightened as a misplaced mouse.
Come and join me, I said.
Unh unh, she replied, shaking her head.
Why not?
You’re the lawyer.
We’re not all bad. In fact, as lawyers go, I’m not bad at all.
You were hired by Jules’s dad.
I confess. But Jules is my client. I’m acting for Jules. If his dad asked me to do anything that wasn’t in Jules’s interest, I’d refuse.
Right, she said sarcastically.
No, really. Join me over here. Give me a chance.
She came over gingerly, without taking her eyes off me.
As though I might leap up any second, smack her with a broom.
Sit, sit, I invited.
I felt a touch presumptuous, acting as though this were my home, not hers.
But she sat down.
You been seeing Jules for a long time? I asked.
She looked at me for a few seconds. I thought I could see a tear forming at the corner of one eye. She nodded slowly.
How long?
Three years.
I detected a need to talk, to confide. I knew I had to be careful, not to scare her off. But if I did it right, she might have something useful to say.
You from New York? I asked.
Long Island.
Really? I have a lot of friends out that way.
Silence.
You going to school?
I was going to F.I.T.
Ah, I said. I always wondered about that name. Fashion Institute of Technology. You’d think they might have come up with something a little more, I don’t know, artsy.
Silence.
You said ‘was.’ Did you graduate?
No. I dropped out.
You didn’t like it?
She shrugged.
What made you quit?
Long pause.
I needed to take care of Jules.
Does Jules need taking care of?
More than you know.
How so?
He’s very fragile.
She uncrossed her arms. A good sign.
Are you afraid he’s going to hurt himself? I asked.
The tear reappeared. She nodded.
Is that what you were fighting about, when I came over?
Her eyes widened.
How did you know that? she asked.
I didn’t. It was just a thought. So that was it?
Yes, she whispered.
She hung her head.
Geez, I said. I didn’t realize it was that bad.
He’s had it very hard.
I know. He told me.
He did?
She looked surprised.
He did, I said.
The tears began to flow.
I don’t know what to do, she said softly, wiping at her cheeks. I feel like I have to be with him every minute of the day.
