Remember Me, Irene

“Collins. Reed Collins.”

“Well, Lucas was just a bum as far as that man is concerned. I could see that from the moment he met us. Mr. Collins has other work to attend to, I’m sure. And Lucas wouldn’t count for much around here, would he? So this Mr. Collins, he’s just ready to just wash his hands of this whole mess.”

“It’s hard to tell,” I said. “Reed has been following up on some things he might ignore if he just wanted to take the easy way out of this.”

“Be that as it may, I’m asking you if you think Lucas was just a-a nothing, a nobody.”

“Of course not. Look, Mrs. Monroe. I don’t know what happened to Lucas, or how he ended up on the street-”

“That’s easy. He drank. He drank and drank and drank. His father drank-drank himself to death. They say alcoholism sometimes might be genetic. I don’t know if Lucas got it from his father or what. It’s an illness, that’s all. Some folks, well, to them, it’s a name you call somebody. Alcoholic. Like that settles something.”

She shook her head. “Well, none of that matters to me now. All I know is that my son spent the end of his life sober. And I know he had this idea, this dream of his. It was a quest, you might say.” She paused, then added, “I think you had something to do with that. He saw you, and he saw a way to get back something he had lost.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what it was he-”

She didn’t wait for me to finish. “Do you like the nameLucas?”

“Well, yes, it’s a fine name.”

“Lucas Monroeused to be a good name. That’s what he lost, and that’s what he wanted back. His good name. He told me he would come home, you see, but first he-”

She was interrupted when the door opened. Charles started to enter, caught her look of disapproval, and stayed in the doorway. He frowned back at her. “How long you gonna be?”

“You need eyeglasses?” she said.

He didn’t answer.

“Did you see me walk out of that door?”

“I have to get back home.”

“Go on, then,” she said. “Go.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“Oh yes you are. Just get my bag out of your car. I can get a taxicab to a hotel. You go on back to Riverside.”

“I’ll wait,” he said in martyred tone.

She cleared her throat. “Excuse us for a moment, Ms. Kelly.”

I stood and moved toward the door. Charles was blocking it.

“Charles Monroe,” I heard her say behind me.

He put on a false smile and stepped back, bowing with exaggerated politeness. “Oh, pardon me.”

I went out into the hall and looked for Rachel. She was in a waiting room at the front of the building, reading an old copy of a tabloid magazine. She looked up over the top of it and smiled. “Aliens will arrive any day now,” she said. “This is reported by a woman who just came back from the future.”

“Does this mean I won’t get a chance to collect my retirement?”

“Sorry, you’re out of luck. You look tired. Ready to go home?”

“No, sorry, Rachel.”

“Why not?” another voice asked. I turned to see Pete coming down the hall, Frank behind him.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked.

“Good to see you, too,” Pete said. “We come here all the time, remember?”

“Just decided to let Rachel go home,” Frank said. “Reed said you were in the conference room with Monroe’s mother. Has she already left?”

“No, not yet. In fact, I wanted to ask you if we could put her up for the night.”

“She’s staying here in town?”

“There’s a lot that needs to be settled. I just can’t imagine her staying in a hotel. Not after all that’s happened tonight.”

“You going to put both of them up?” Rachel asked.

“Both?” Pete asked.

“Her son’s with her,” Rachel said. “A real asshole.”

“Come on, Rachel, his brother just died,” I said.

She shrugged, nothing apologetic in it.

“You know these people?” Pete said. “I thought-”

“It will be fine,” I said, feeling my patience slipping from me.

“I’m sure it will be,” Frank said quickly, giving Pete a quelling glance. “Rachel, thanks for everything.”

She laughed and put an arm around her husband. “Let’s take a hint, Pete.” She steered him toward the door, then called back to us over her shoulder. “Good night, Frank.Piano, piano, Irene.”

Softly, softly. Sort of an Italian version of “take it easy.” Pete was muttering complaints as the door closed behind them.

“You okay?” Frank asked.

“Honest to God, I don’t know.”

Charles Monroe picked that moment to come walking down the hall. “She wants to see you,” he said, as if the words were full of lemon juice. He kept walking, going outside before I had a chance to introduce Frank.

“The asshole?” Frank asked.

I scowled at him. He held up his hands in mock surrender and took a seat. “I’ll be right here if you need me,” he said, picking up the tabloid. “Reading about this boy who can see with his ears.”

WHENIGOT BACK to the conference room, it was clear to me that June Monroe had been crying, but her voice was steady as she said, “I want to talk to you, Irene, but I believe I’m all talked out for now. Can you recommend a good place to stay? I haven’t been in Las Piernas in years, but I figure a newspaper reporter knows her way around.”

“I’d like it very much if you and Charles would stay at our house.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t impose. And Charles won’t be staying here at all; he owns his own business in Riverside, so he has to be there early in the morning.”

“It wouldn’t be an imposition. We have a guest room. Please-unless you’d really be more comfortable in a hotel? I should mention that we have pets-two dogs and a cat-”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be a problem. I love animals.”

“You’ll stay with us, then?”

She considered the offer for a moment, then said, “Thank you, yes, I will.”

CHARLES WAS JUST ABOUTas pleased with the plan as he was with anything else connected with me that night. June merely crossed her arms and asked him to please open the trunk. He angrily obeyed, yanking the small suitcase out and setting it on the ground with a thump, then drove off without saying so much as good-bye to her.

Frank pretended not to notice what had happened, helped her with her overnight bag, and struck up a conversation with her about the night classes she was teaching in Riverside-algebra and geometry for the adult education program.

It was two in the morning when we got home. After a raucous greeting from our pets, everyone settled in for the night. Cody decided that June needed a big cat on her bed, which seemed to please her. I was grateful for that; he might have yowled all night if denied his preferences.

Frank was in bed, drowsy, but waiting for me. He snuggled up against me, behind me, wrapped an arm around me. We talked for a while about the evening’s events.

“Why did you let her son give you a hard time?” he asked.

“He’s having a hard time, too. He just learned that his brother died.”

“Didn’t appear to be grief-stricken.”

“In his own way, I think he was. Even if I had felt like arguing with him, I wouldn’t have done it. It would have