down the wine.
“How’s it going, Jose?” I asked. “Put on a few el-bees since we last saw you, eh?”
Jose nodded, patting his stomach. “It’s difficult not to with all the wonderful desserts we offer here,” he said, placing menus before us. Then, his face creasing in a conspiratorial smile, “Possibly we can tempt you with something for after dinner? There are still two unclaimed pieces of warm pistachio cake. If you want, I can hold them. Or maybe the chocolate terrine-”
“Thanks, but tempt us later,” I interrupted with a smile. “Right now, let’s start with some wine. For my wife only, though.”
Jose gave me a curious look but said nothing as he poured a single glass for Catheryn. Then, promising to return in a few minutes to take our order, he departed.
“Places like this used to make me uncomfortable, worrying about doing something embarrassing,” I joked. “At least since going on the wagon, I don’t have to remind myself not to drink directly from the bottle.” After Tommy’s accident and the dark time for me that followed, I had quit drinking. Occasionally I missed it. Mostly, I didn’t. Raising my water glass, I found Catheryn’s eyes with mine.
“Here’s to you, Kate.”
Catheryn lifted her champagne flute. “Here’s to us,” she replied.
“I’ll drink to that,” I said. Still holding her gaze, I touched the rim of her glass with mine.
With a surge of regret, I realized both of us were nervous. Over the years we had occasionally eaten at Patina, usually celebrating some special event. Happier times. Now a current of tension ran between us, an atmosphere of distrust remaining from the night before. We had things to discuss before Catheryn’s departure for Europe, but at the moment neither of us wanted to reopen recent wounds. Instead, for the next several minutes we perused our menus in silence. Catheryn decided to start with an appetizer of Ahi tuna; I chose the lobster bisque. For her main selection Catheryn ordered roasted halibut with sweet-potato puree and wild mushrooms. I fell back on my usual-loin of venison with porcini-foie gras polenta and quince chutney. After giving our dinner selections to Jose, we talked for several minutes with a waiter who was crisscrossing the room with a cart laden with a tantalizing variety of expensive cheeses.
When our appetizers arrived, Catheryn started on her Ahi. “You drove to the cemetery this morning?” she noted after several bites, regarding me across the table. “The kids said they saw you there.”
“Right,” I nodded, diving into my bisque. “I thought they were trying to duck out of going to church.”
“They went later.”
“Good. A little religion never hurt anybody.”
“That go for you, too?”
I hadn’t been to Mass since Tom’s funeral. “Maybe,” I said, concentrating on my soup. Then, pointedly changing the subject, “Sounded as though rehearsal went well. Ready for your trip?”
“About as ready as one can ever be for a tour of this length.”
“Six weeks is a long time.”
“Five and a half, not counting travel days,” Catheryn corrected, glancing over to judge my mood. Among other things, her projected absence had come up in our recent argument. Throughout she’d maintained that the trip wasn’t her idea, pointing out that she, like most members of the orchestra, had objected to the tour’s length- well past the usual twenty-eight-day limit allowed for traveling engagements. Nonetheless, the Philharmonic Committee had remained adamant, and after negotiating generous bonuses and weeklong residence stays in Vienna and London, a majority of musicians had eventually voted in favor of the extended tour. “Anyway, there’s a chance you’ll be joining me in Venice, right?” she went on when I didn’t reply. “Have you renewed your passport?”
I nodded, then looked away.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be making the trip. Something’s come up.”
“Oh?”
“The case I caught today has all the earmarks of becoming a high profile investigation. I don’t think I’ll be seeing any vacation time till it’s over.”
“But can’t you-”
“You know I can’t. We’ve been through this before.”
Catheryn sighed, unable to hide her disappointment. Setting down her fork, she said, “Dan, there’s more to life than being a police officer.”
“Or a musician. With your new job, you’re gone as much or more than I am. And now you’re leaving for six weeks. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ll be the one staying home with the kids.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
“What, then?”
“Come on, Dan. You spend more time chasing criminals than you do with your own children,” said Catheryn, her voice tightening. “Even when you are home, you’re thinking about your job.”
“I’m a cop. That’s what I do,” I said, realizing we were tumbling headlong into a reprise of last night’s argument. “You knew that from the start.”
“I knew. I just didn’t know all the things it would do to you. And for what? Do you actually think you’re doing any good? Arrest one criminal and two more spring up to take his place.”
“I just take them one at a time. As for the job affecting me, I can’t argue that. Unfortunately, it’s what happens when you’re on the street.”
“Exactly my point. You’re developing a slanted view of life, and it’s driving a wedge between us. Every time you go to work, you shut down part of yourself to get the job done. And it’s getting worse. Granted, someone has to do police work-”
“And that someone is me. Sure, it affects me some, maybe a lot, but you have absolutely no idea what goes on in the real world, Kate. There are people out there who think differently than you and I.”
“And some of them are cops. Read the papers.”
“Don’t trash the whole department because of a few mutts in the pack.”
“I’m not. Look, I know that most LAPD officers are honest, hardworking guys,” Catheryn continued stubbornly. “I didn’t mean to get off the subject. I’m simply saying that-”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere. Let’s drop it, Kate.”
“And talk about it tomorrow?” Catheryn said curtly, referring to what she considered an irritating habit of mine of putting off important discussions until later. “Fine,” she continued, backing from the precipice. “I talked with my mother today. If you come to Venice, she’ll be available to stay at the beach while you’re gone.”
“I may have her come either way. I’m going to be busy.”
“Make time for the kids while I’m gone, Dan.”
“What do you want me to do? Quit my job and stay home with them while you’re out gallivanting?”
Catheryn brightened. “Yes, that would be great,” she said with a smile. “Thanks.”
“Seriously, Kate, the kids will be fine.”
Catheryn’s smile faded. “Are you that oblivious to what’s going on? They’re not fine now; how are they suddenly going to better in my absence?”
“I know we’ve all been going through a rough patch lately, but things will even out. Travis is doing well in school-”
“Trav is not doing well in school. I’ve already had two meetings with his advisor. And Nate is still having nightmares. His grades have dropped, and he’s been fighting again. And Allison hasn’t been the same since the break-in. She hardly sees her friends anymore. At first I thought it was a just phase, but now I’m not so sure.”
My thoughts traveled back to an evening two summers previous when Catheryn had been attending a performance at the Music Center. Tom and Travis had gone out together on a double date, and I had unexpectedly been called back to the station on a case-leaving Allison and Nate at home alone for several hours. During that time two men had broken into our house. They’d demanded money, and in the course of the robbery Allison had been severely beaten. It could have been worse had it not been for the presence of my off-duty service revolver in the hall closet. The intruders hadn’t counted on a weapon being in the house, or the danger that it posed, even in the hands of a child. One of the men had fled. The other had bled to death with a. 38-caliber-sized hole in his
