'She's got good taste.'
'She does. Mattie's very fussy about who she approves of.'
'She was always nice to me. I think she used to feel sorry for me. She always used to ask me about my mom, making sure she was okay. And she used to want me to talk about my dad, too. I remember one time she told me that when her dad died, she tried not to think about him. She thought that would make the pain go away. But then she realized that only made the pain worse. What made it better was to remember.'
'That's good advice. Hard to follow, but good.'
'I guess. I still find the forgetting a lot easier.'
'What is it you're trying to forget, Kid? What the hell's been so hard for you?'
Kid looked down at the barbell on the floor. 'It shows, huh?'
'Something shows. I don't have a clue what, though.'
Kid said nothing for a few moments. Then, as he bent down to add weights to the barbell, he turned to Jack and said, 'Do you miss her? I mean, do you miss her all the time?'
'Yes.' Jack was surprised how quickly he blurted out the word. He thought he'd tell Kid to stick to his team and leave him the hell alone. But suddenly he found he wanted to talk about Caroline. Maybe it was hearing Mattie's advice. Memories were welling up inside him and he felt an overpowering urge to get them out into the open. 'It's almost unbelievable how much I miss her.'
'I miss her, too.'
Jack swallowed hard. 'I think anyone who ever met her would have to miss Caroline.'
Kid nodded solemnly at that. 'Do you think you'll ever… it sounds so jerky when I say it out loud, like a song, but…'
'Do I think I'll ever fall in love again?'
'Yeah. That's what I was trying to ask.'
'Kid, a few weeks ago, I wasn't sure I'd ever leave my apartment again. I haven't had much time to think about falling in love.'
'But now that you know you're going to get better, back to normal…'
'Hold on. I don't know that. I can lift ten pounds and not pass out; that's not the same as being normal.'
'Jack, you know it. It's a process but it's happening. I can see in your eyes that you're starting to know it. I told you that I'm going to bring you back so take it as fact.'
'Okay,' Jack said. 'I'll take it as fact for this conversation.'
'Good enough. So you know your body's going to be fine. Normal. Better than normal. What about the rest of you?
Jack didn't answer but not because he didn't have one. It's that he was overwhelmed with his realization. 'I think you can heal my body,' he finally said, 'but I think my heart is broken forever. We were like one person in a lot of ways. And when she died, enough of me died, too, that the whole can't be brought back to life.'
'I'm gonna make you whole, Jack.' The words were soft but they rang with passion and conviction. 'I really am. And then maybe, somehow, the dead part can come back to life again. I want it to come back to life more than I've ever wanted anything before, ever.'
'Who are we talking about now,' Jack asked. 'You or me?'
This time Kid said nothing. Just pointed to the weights, expressionless, as Jack reached for them and began to take one step closer to being whole.
SEVENTEEN
It was happening again. He hadn't learned.
What did it take for Jack Keller to learn?
What did it take before he understood that you don't steal what belongs to others? How many deaths and accidents before he realized?
One more, at least.
One more death.
Then one more chance.
Then maybe, just maybe, this could all be over. If not…
Well.
There'd be no more chances.
But many more people would die.
The end of the year was cold and snowy. The beginning of winter turned New York into its most common role: the ultimate urban contradiction. The buildings shimmered and lit up the skies as if they were alive. The city was clean and fresh and vibrating with activity; it begged to be explored and appreciated but tourists and shoppers made movement impossibly difficult. One had to swivel one's neck to stare at the extraordinary beauty all around, but one swivel too many would ensure a plunging step into a curbside pile of ankle-high brown icy slush.
Christmas was difficult, but Jack took Mattie's advice to heart. The week between the twenty-fifth and the first was spent drinking excellent wine, eating well, and spending long nights with Dom, Kid, and a few select visitors reminiscing about Caroline and the many good times past. Jack also realized he was beginning to look forward to more good times in the future. The realization both thrilled him and worried him. And made him feel more than a little guilty, a feeling that he alternately fought against and succumbed to.
What if…
On New Year's Eve, Jack and Dom went out to Daniel, the best restaurant in New York. Dom's treat. Kid was invited but he was spending it with a member of the Team. He was evasive, didn't want to tell Jack which one. Finally he confessed he was seeing two women. The Mortician was early. Then, after midnight, he was meeting the Entertainer, when she got off work. Jack just shook his head, said he hoped that Kid knew what he was doing. For the first time, Kid didn't make a smart-aleck comment back. He shrugged, as if he wasn't really sure that he did.
January second was a different kind of celebration. Dom came up, as did Kid and Mattie, and at three o'clock they stood and cheered as a man from Goodwill came up to the apartment and picked up Jack's wheelchair. He didn't need it anymore. 'Come back in another month,' Kid told the guy. 'We got a couple of canes we won't be needing either.'
A couple of weeks after that, Kid stepped out of the elevator to find Jack waiting for him excitedly. He headed, as usual, straight for the exercise room but Jack stopped him, ushered him into the living room. It took Kid a moment to notice but he was led to it by Jack's stare.
What Jack was staring at was a new painting that had been hung on the living room wall. It stood all by itself, bathed in a soft light that came from up on the ceiling. It was not large, maybe two feet by three feet. But it managed to dominate the room and when Kid turned to look at his friend and patient, Jack's eyes were moist.
'Do you know what it is?' he asked Kid.
Kid nodded. 'A Hopper. I never saw one in person before.'
'I didn't think I was ready to get it. But I've had feelers out for a while and I heard it was up for auction… and I decided the time was right.'
'Right for what?'
'To do something I was supposed to do. Keep a kind of promise. To have something really beautiful to look at.'
'Do you think it's beautiful?'
Surprised, Jack said, 'Don't you?'
Kid shrugged and in a high-toned voice said, 'I regard Edward Hopper as the depressive's Norman Rockwell.'
Jack's jaw practically dropped to the floor. 'What!'
