Babe whispered, in the babyish Russian he knew. Kissed Irina’s cheek. ‘We moved the coffeemaker while you’ve been gone, Ellie. It’s on the other counter. Help yourself.’
Eve didn’t move. ‘I won’t stay. I’m sorry I left you, Babe. I want you and the boys to know that it had nothing to do with you. It was me. The situation… was such I thought it best I not come home. So I chose not to. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. The boys.’ She stopped, ran a finger along her lip. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. Two words don’t sound adequate. I know.’
Silence. Babe cleared his throat. ‘You know, they didn’t stop crying for a real long time. Wondering why their mama would leave them. Do you have any idea what you tell small kids why they matter, why they’re still worthwhile human beings, why they’re still lovable when their own mother can’t be bothered to love them? I took them to Disneyland six months after you left. For two weeks. I thought it would help. Me herding all six of them, trying to pretend rides and candy and Mickey Mouse could make up for you gone. Jesus, we go, they don’t see anything but moms with their kids. I was cruel trying to help them.’ Now his voice trembled. ‘I don’t hate you for ripping my heart out. But what you did to my boys.’ His voice broke. ‘Treating my sons as disposable is unforgivable.’
‘I’ll ask for their forgiveness,’ Eve said. ‘Yours is a separate issue.’
‘You don’t want my forgiveness,’ Babe said. ‘You show your sorry face in time to stand over my grave and decide you want to play mom thirty years too late.’ He shook his head at Whit. ‘Whit, you lose one, you go find the other?’
‘I’m not trying to replace you, Dad, for God’s sakes.’ Whit took a calming breath. ‘I’m trying to help you both. You’re my parents. Make your peace. Please.’
‘Whit,’ Eve said. ‘Your father is your parent. He’s the one who took care of you.’ She stood. ‘You raised a very fine son, Babe.’
‘Who gives a rat’s ass what you think?’ Babe said.
‘Screaming was not the point of you and Mom talking,’ Whit said.
‘Sure was for me. I said what I wanted.’ Babe got up from his chair. ‘She’s dead to me.’
‘She is back in our lives,’ Whit said. ‘She is not dead.’
‘If yelling makes you happy, Babe,’ Eve said, ‘yell away. I deserve it.’ She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.
‘And I thought the chemo made me puke,’ Babe said.
‘Tell me, sweetie,’ Eve said to Irina. ‘Now that he’s retired, what does he talk about? Because I never heard a single word other than oil business, golf, oil, golf, and oh yes, oil with a hint of golf. It was enough to drive you nuts. Did you know he wouldn’t change a diaper? Six kids and he wouldn’t change a single diaper.’
Irina said, very quietly, ‘I don’t know you, Ellen, and I don’t want to.’
‘We’re staying in the guest house,’ Whit said, his chest full and hot. He had never seen the look now on his father’s face, dead love resurrected into absolute, unforgiving hate. ‘Just for tonight.’
‘No,’ Babe said.
‘Yes,’ Whit said. ‘I pay rent. You don’t have to see her if you don’t want.’
‘I won’t stay here if it’s going to upset him,’ Eve said. ‘You know, I did want to apologize. I don’t care if you believe me.’
‘Since when do you care about occupying the high ground?’ Babe said. ‘Tell me, Whit, did she hug you the moment she saw you?’ He gave a jagged laugh. ‘Does she think she’s still in the will?’
‘Dad, she came. That’s all that matters.’
‘Yeah, right. You’re not gonna drive a wedge between me and my sons, Ellie,’ Babe said. ‘Especially in the last five minutes of my life. You hurt my boys again, I’ll kill you.’
‘I owe Whit my life. Hurting him is the last thing I would ever do.’ She turned for the door, waited for Whit. ‘I won’t bother you again, Babe.’
‘Give him time,’ Whit said.
‘Yeah, he’s got time to spare,’ Eve said. The day had bloomed into bright sunshine and they sat on a deck at the Water’s End, an old bar on the beach. The other patrons were tourists and winter Texans, a quiet group.
Eve didn’t sip her beer. ‘Put me in a trailer; I’ll tell everyone I’m from Michigan. I’ll fit right in for the next month or so.’
‘There’s a plan.’
‘This secret between us,’ Eve said. ‘It’s a nasty thing, isn’t it? Living with what you know and you don’t tell?’
Whit sipped his beer. ‘Yes. I’ve been outlining my resignation letter in my head.’
‘Why? What good does resigning do? Stay on the bench, keep doing good.’
‘I can’t. I killed for you.’
‘In self-defense. Screw the law books. Saving your mother is instinct.’ She tasted her beer.
They had survived – both the mob and the possibility of prosecution – but he felt emptied. His mother smiled a lot at him. Like she was seeing herself in him, truly, for the first time.
Whit saw the bar door open, Claudia step outside onto the deck. She headed straight toward him, toward Eve.
‘A family reunion,’ Claudia said. She didn’t pull up a chair, but she gave Eve a quick, dismissive glance, then looked back at Whit. ‘It’s been a few days since we spoke.’
‘How are you?’ Whit asked.
‘Did you lose my phone number in the past week?’ she said.
‘I only got back this morning.’
‘This is your mother,’ Claudia said. Statement, not question.
‘Yes. Eve Michaels. Mom, this is my friend, Claudia Salazar.’
Eve offered her hand. Claudia let three beats pass then she took it, with the barest politeness.
‘Whit speaks so highly of you,’ Eve said.
‘Does he,’ Claudia said. ‘I used to be able to say the same about him. Until he threw away everything he stood for.’
‘Really,’ Eve said. ‘I suspect he stands for something greater than you know.’
‘I’m sitting right here while you talk about me,’ Whit said.
‘I know what you are,’ Claudia said to Eve. ‘I don’t believe for two seconds that you were Tommy Bellini’s simple-minded accountant who didn’t know squat.’
‘Claudia. I totally understand why you’re upset,’ Whit said.
‘It’s okay, son,’ Eve said. ‘What am I, Claudia?’ Her eyes were a little bright. ‘Tell me.’
‘A woman who would let her son ruin his life to save her own sorry ass.’
‘That’s enough,’ Whit said. ‘You don’t know the truth…’
‘Because you’ve told it all, right, Whit?’ Her voice was low but it was worse than if she was shouting.
‘Whatever you believe about me,’ Eve said, ‘is true. Not that Whit and I care, do we, honey? We’re a team.’
Claudia’s jaw trembled. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’ She glared at Whit. ‘Do you ever think about Harry?’
‘Yes. All the time. I hope the police find Frank Polo really soon.’
‘Frank Polo. Because he was the one bad guy in the picture, right, Whit?’
‘I didn’t know he killed Harry. I didn’t.’
‘But you knew this group of people were connected to his death. You knew and you said nothing.’ Every word like a small little explosion between them.
‘I told you about Greg Buckman,’ Whit said, keeping his voice low.
‘You didn’t tell anyone the whole picture. All you cared about was protecting your mother. I can’t prove it, but I know it. You walked away from every value you once held dear, Whit. Like this woman walked away from you and your family. I guess the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree, even when the tree hauls ass.’
‘Nice that you have this moral clarity about my life,’ Whit said.
‘You know, Harry has a mother too. Two sisters, an ex-wife. People who loved him. He was worth about a dozen of… her.’ She jerked her head at Eve.
‘Can we please discuss this later?’ he said.
