Alicia spent much of the morning with Hector in the hospital's PICU. The good news was, he hadn't had any more seizures. The bad news was that he wasn't gaining on the Candida infection. They were culturing it from his blood, urine, chest, esophagus, everywhere.
She was feeling down when she got to the Center with her Sunday
He wanted to get together tonight but she couldn't. She had a meeting scheduled with Jack and that new lawyer, Sean O'Neill, tonight. Will pressed her for Monday night—an Armenian place called Zov's with a super rack of lamb—and she gave in.
She was becoming more and more comfortable with him. She didn't know if that was a good thing.
Jack didn't return any of Jorge's three calls this morning. The man kept wanting to thank him for returning the full six thousand Ramirez had owed him, and kept asking why Jack hadn't taken his cut. Jack had told him once that his fee had come out of the 'interest' he'd charged Ramirez. He didn't want to go over it again.
One call he did return was to his father in Florida, and they went round and round again—Dad urging him to come down and cash in on all the 'fantastic opportunities' waiting for him in Florida, Jack dodging this way and that, finally promising to come down for a visit 'real soon.'
That done, he took a moment to send five hundred dollars in cash to Dolores, care of the Hudak Agency, with an unsigned note stating simply: 'For your trouble.'
And then it was out to pick up some of the equipment Milkdud had told him he'd need. After that he was looking forward to some time alone with Gia while Vicky was at her art lessons.
'Hi, Ma,' Sam Baker said as he entered his mother's room.
'Stay away from the fence!' his mother shouted, looking past him.
She was a thin, angular woman, with glistening blue eyes. The nursing home staff had secured her into her chair with a nylon mesh vest they called a 'posy.' Her bony fingers worked incessantly at the hem of the blanket wrapped around her legs.
'I brought you flowers, Ma,' he said, showing her the half dozen short-stemmed roses he'd picked up in the city.
'And get Janey away too!' she called.
Baker sighed and sat on the bed—gingerly. His back still throbbed like some giant goddamn infected tooth from that kidney punch on Thursday night. He unscrewed the cap from the bottle of seltzer he'd brought along. He hated seltzer, but it was better than drinking straight water.
He took a sip and stared at the woman who'd raised him. She'd be sixty-eight next February. Not so old in body, but her mind had begun to slip away about ten years ago. Now it was completely shot. He'd had to move her into this nursing home two years ago, and it was sucking him dry.
He'd heard Alzheimer's ran in families, and that scared the shit out of him. Every time he forgot something he should have remembered, he wondered,
Gave him the creeps. He hoped he'd have the wherewithal to swallow the business end of a Tec-9 before he got like her.
'I'm warning you, Janey!' she shouted.
'Who the hell is Janey, Ma?' he said softly.
'It's her latest imaginary playmate,' said a voice behind him.
Oh, shit, Baker thought. Karen.
He turned to see his older sister standing in the doorway. And she took up most of that doorway. Christ, his sister the eternal hippie had really let herself go to hell lately. She'd had a second chin for some time, but now it looked like she was well on her way to a third. And if she was going to dye her hair, at least keep it up. Long gray roots and long red ends—was that a look for aging hippie chicks?
Karen said, 'You'd know all about Janey if you visited more often.'
'Lay off,' he said. 'I get here when I can. I don't see you coming up with a check every month.'
It was an old argument, and he was sick of it. The nursing home was in New Brunswick, New Jersey. Karen lived in the next town. Baker had to trek out from the city.
She pointed to his seltzer bottle. 'You on a diet or something?'
Yeah, he thought. I bet you know all about diets.
'No. I'm just thirsty.'
He wasn't about to tell her that he was treating a badly bruised kidney. He kept drinking because it kept him running to the head. And every time he took a leak, he saw red—in the water and in his mind. He hadn't checked with a doctor but he figured anything that flushed the blood out of his aching right kidney couldn't be all bad.
Karen stepped closer and stared at his face. 'What happened to your nose?'
Broken—for about the fifth time. But this was a bad one.
Another thing he owed that guy, that cabbie or whatever he was. He'd done a real number on him.
Serves me right for letting myself get caught flat-footed, he thought, but it won't happen next time. And there
Baker would make sure of that.
And then his little filleting knife would come into play…
'Ran into a door.'
'No, Sam. You got hurt.' Her face showed concern, but he knew it wasn't for him. 'What about Kenny? Did he get hurt too?'
'Kenny's fine.'
In fact, Baker wished Kenny had been driving the van instead of Chuck. Kenny wouldn't have gotten suckered by that cabbie.
'He'd better be. I don't know what you've gotten him into this time, but if anything happens to him…'
I cut him in on a sweet deal, Sam thought. Because he's family. Because you look out for your own.
Same with the other guys in the crew. He'd worked with them all at one time or another. They formed a small fraternity. If something like this Clayton thing fell into their laps, they'd call him.
'He's a grown man, Karen.'
'He's still my baby!' she said, her face screwing up.
Oh, no, he thought. Not another crying scene.
'He's my baby and you made a monster out of him. I'll never know why he looked up to you.'
'Maybe because I was the only man who stayed in his life for more than a year or two.'
'You made him join the marines!'
'I didn't make him do anything. He didn't want to be like all those creeps who kept coming and going through that revolving door in your place. He wanted a little stability. The marines made a man out of him.'
'Some man! He's a goddamn mercenary! If anything happens to him, Sam, I'm holding you responsible.'
'Don't worry. I'll take good care of him. Better care than you ever did when he was growing up.'
She let out a loud sob and hurried from the room.
Baker sat and stared at his mother. Go ahead, Karen. Say it like it's a dirty word, but this gig is going to assure that Mom's taken good care of for the rest of her life. And even if something happens to me, my life insurance policy will do the same thing.
You look out for your own. Whatever it takes.
He rose, wincing at the pain in his kidney. He took another swig of seltzer. He'd switch to beer when he got back to his place in the city. If he hurried he could catch the Giants-Cowboys kickoff.
'Bye, Ma. See you next week.'
Mom looked around. 'Where's Janey?'
