“We’re done,” she said, her voice hard again. “That’s all I can say right now, okay? We’re done for real this time.”
“Just like that? I can’t even talk to you about this?”
“No,” she said. “Do not come over here. Do not call me. Do you understand?”
“You’re making it sound like I’m a stalker or something. I don’t think I deserve that.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But this is the way it has to be. After a night with my mother, believe me, somebody has to tell the truth to somebody. This was never going to work, Alex. It was never going to work. Will you just believe me, please?”
I held the phone. I looked out the window at the falling snow.
“Natalie,” I said, “this can’t be it.”
“It has to be. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t believe it. I don’t.”
“You have to.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“No,” she said. “No, you won’t. Good night, Alex.”
Then she hung up.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day was a bad one. The pain woke me up, one pain joined by others in a chorus singing at top volume inside me. I held a bag of ice over my eye, trying to remember when Grant had nailed me there. My ribs hurt where he had tackled me. My knee hurt. My hands felt like the arthritic claws of an invalid, the knuckles swollen and raw.
Worst of all was the feeling that came to me just after I woke up, the biggest sucker punch of all, the sudden realization that the conversation with Natalie wasn’t a dream.
I stayed inside all morning. It was the wrong way to deal with it, but so the hell what. I sure didn’t feel like going down to the Glasgow. Or seeing anyone. Or talking to anyone. I stayed inside with the ice pressed against my face and a bottle of painkillers sitting right there on my kitchen table. I found myself counting the minutes until I could take another one. A very bad sign, something I’d seen before. But I didn’t give one flying rat’s ass.
I thought she would call me. I honestly believed that. She would call me. She would tell me it was all a mistake. It had been her terrible state of mind the night before. She had no idea what she was saying.
Or else she would come over, just as she had before. One knock on the door and she would open it and step inside. Just like the last time.
I had one lousy American beer in the fridge. I killed that, then opened up a bottle of Wild Turkey. I remembered the bottle we had shared at her house. This is Natalie’s brand, I thought. I wondered if she was drinking some herself that day, maybe sitting at that big table in the empty dining room with her mother. I wondered if she was feeling bad.
Here’s to you, Natalie. Here’s to you.
I would have sat there all day, just like that. I would have drunk. I would have filled up my ice bag. I would have counted the minutes until I could take my next pill. That would have been the whole day, right there.
But then it started to snow.
It snowed hard enough that I had to make a choice. I could stay inside all day and let it bury me, or I could go out, no matter how bad I felt, and fight it.
What’s it gonna be, Alex? I looked in the mirror. What’s it gonna be?
I threw my coat on, went outside, and fired up the truck. I ran the snowplow up and down the road a couple of times, then switched to the shovel. The hard work made me feel sick to my stomach, but I kept going. I punished myself. When I had the last cabin dug out, I leaned over and threw up like Mount Vesuvius all over the snowbank. When I was done, I shoveled it all away and covered it up with more snow.
Then I figured, what the hell. I’m going to Jackie’s.
He dropped his towel when I stepped into the place. He stood there looking at me for a long time, then he just shook his head and asked me if I wanted an omelet.
“That would be just what the doctor ordered,” I said. “I’ve got a pretty empty tank right now.”
“I see you didn’t listen to anything I told you the other day.”
“I listened, Jackie. I really did.”
“She dragged you right into it, didn’t she? Who was it this time? The same three guys?”
“No, just one,” I said. “I’m sure he’s looking pretty bad, too.”
“This isn’t a game, Alex. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“You may not have to worry anymore.”
“What are you saying?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it right now. Let’s just say that Natalie and I are taking a little break again.”
I couldn’t tell if he was buying that one, but he made me my omelet and brought it over to me by the fireplace. When I was done eating, I put my feet up. I almost started to feel a little better than miserable.
Vinnie came in a little while later. He stood over me, studying my face like an insurance adjuster examining a car wreck.
“Alex,” he said, “you’re not that good-looking when you’re healthy. You can’t afford to keep making things worse.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I knew you’d make me feel better.”
“You gonna tell me what happened this time?”
“Eventually. If you sit here long enough.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. He sat down in the other chair and put his feet up next to mine. His face was windburned, and now that he had taken the tape off his ear, you could see where the bullet had ripped off a good chunk of it. Between the two of us, we must have looked like the unluckiest pair of losers in the whole world.
Our luck turned even worse when the door opened. Michael Grant stepped in, brushing the snow off his shoulders. He was holding a hat. The hat. He looked the place over, stopping when he saw me sitting there by the fire.
“McKnight,” he said as he came over to me. There was a big purple bruise on his left cheek, and he had a shiner around his right eye. But aside from that he didn’t look half as bad as I did. It didn’t make me any happier to see him standing in my bar.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
I didn’t bother to stand up. But Vinnie did. Grant gave him a cool, even look and introduced himself. “Alex and I had a little episode yesterday,” he said.
“What about at the funeral? Was that an episode, too?”
“No,” Grant said. “That was a very bad day for everyone.”
“Vinnie, sit down,” I said.
He did, with obvious reluctance.
“I asked you what you were doing here,” I said to Grant.
“I came to give you this,” he said. He held up the hat.
“I don’t want it,” I said.
“I figured Ms. Reynaud might.”
“I wouldn’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”
He looked down at me. “You’re making this hard, McKnight.”
“How did you even know I’d be here?”
“You’re in the book. When I drove by, I recognized your truck out front.”
I took the hat from him. “Okay, I’ve got the hat. You can leave now.”
“I need to talk to you. Maybe your friend can excuse himself for a minute.”
“Maybe his friend can kick your ass all the way back to the Soo,” Vinnie said.
