Two days later he left work early in the afternoon and went to Kirby’s. Dr. Kellogg opened the door and then pointed toward the back of the house and said, “The man you’re looking for is reading.” He was wearing baggy white pants and a Japanese kimono.
Nick almost had to push through the half-open door because the psychiatrist was so intent on holding the cats back with one foot. In the kitchen Kirby was indeed reading—he was looking at a Bermuda travel brochure and listening to Karen.
She looked sheepish when she saw him. Her face was tan, and her eyes, which were always beautiful, looked startlingly blue now that her face was so dark. She had lavender-tinted sunglasses pushed on top of her head. She and Kirby seemed happy and comfortable in the elegant, air-conditioned house.
“When did you get back?” Nick said.
“A couple of days ago,” she said. “The night I last talked to you, I went over to the professor’s apartment, and in the morning we went to Bermuda.”
Nick had come to Kirby’s to get the car keys and borrow the Thunderbird—to go for a ride and be by himself for a while—and for a moment now he thought of asking her for the keys anyway. He sat down at the table.
“Stephanie is in town,” he said. “I think we ought to go get a cup of coffee and talk about it.”
Her key ring was on the table. If he had the keys, he could be heading for the Lincoln Tunnel. Years ago, they would be walking to the car hand in hand, in love. It would be her birthday. The car’s odometer would have five miles on it.
One of Kirby’s cats jumped up on the table and began to sniff at the butter dish there.
“Would you like to walk over to the Star Thrower and get a cup of coffee?” Nick said.
She got up slowly.
“Don’t mind me,” Kirby said.
“Would you like to come, Kirby?” she asked.
“Not me. No, no.”
She patted Kirby’s shoulder, and they went out.
“What happened?” she said, pointing to his hand.
“It’s broken.”
“How did you break it?”
“Never mind,” he said. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
When they got there it was not yet four o’clock, and the Star Thrower was closed.
“Well, just tell me what’s happening with Stephanie,” Karen said impatiently. “I don’t really feel like sitting around talking because I haven’t even unpacked yet.”
“She’s at my apartment, and she’s pregnant, and she doesn’t even talk about Sammy.”
She shook her head sadly. “How did you break your hand?” she said.
“I was mugged. After our last pleasant conversation on the phone—the time you told me to come over immediately or not at all. I didn’t make it because I was in the emergency room.”
“Oh, Christ,” she said. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was embarrassed to call you.”
“Why? Why didn’t you call?”
“You wouldn’t have been there anyway.” He took her arm. “Let’s find some place to go,” he said.
Two young men came up to the door of the Star Thrower. “Isn’t this where David had that great Armenian dinner?” one of them said.
“I
“I didn’t really think this was the place.
They continued to quarrel as Nick and Karen walked away.
“Why do you think Stephanie came here to the city?” Karen said.
“Because we’re her friends,” Nick said.
“But she has lots of friends.”
“Maybe she thought we were more dependable.”
“Why do you say that in that tone of voice? I don’t have to tell you every move I’m making. Things went very well in Bermuda. He almost lured me to London.”
“Look,” he said. “Can’t we go somewhere where you can call her?”
He looked at her, shocked because she didn’t understand that Stephanie had come to see her, not him. He had seen for a long time that it didn’t matter to her how much she meant to him, but he had never realized that she didn’t know how much she meant to Stephanie. She didn’t understand people. When he found out she had another man, he should have dropped out of her life. She did not deserve her good looks and her fine car and all her money. He turned to face her on the street, ready to tell her what he thought.
“You know what happened there?” she said. “I got sunburned and had a terrible time. He went on to London
