“And there’s a good chance Vic is already dead.” She buried her head in her hands.
“Yeah. However, I think we should keep looking.”
“What?” She pulled her head out of the palms of her hands and gave me a big-eyed stare. “You think what?”
I couldn’t tell her. It was just not the right time. I believed there was never going to be the right time. “I just feel I need to do this.”
“Give me a break. You guys almost got killed last night. You can’t keep getting in deeper.”
“Listen, these guys have got it in their heads that we know something. We can’t convince them we don’t. For some reason they either want to scare us or kill us and we can’t just sit around and wait for it to happen. If we can find Vic Maitlin, then Rick Fuentes has his kid back, and he can go to the cops and tell them everything.”
She had tears in the corners of her eyes. Once again with the tears.
“It’s going to be all right. Really.”
She reached across the table and put her hand on mine. “I’m pregnant.”
I forgot to breathe. For what seemed like an eternity she looked at me, waiting for my reaction.
Once again she said, “I’m pregnant.”
Finally I managed to stammer out a response. “Who’s the father?”
She slowly stood up and headed toward the door.
“Em, wait.”
She kept walking.
I caught up with her and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Or maybe I’m not. Do you want-” I didn’t know what I was saying.
She spun around and gave me a fiery look that even her tears couldn’t put out. “You’re the father, you ass. Don’t you get it? You. Who else did you think it might be?” She turned and walked out the door and I just stood there. I watched her drive away, and I couldn’t take one more step to stop her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I did the math years ago and figured out that my mother was pregnant for three months before she married my father. Maybe that was in his mind when he left home. Maybe he’d been pressured into marriage because of me and never got over that.
I could marry Em. I could do a lot worse, but I still feel that I’ve got a lot of growing up to do.
I couldn’t get a grip on this father thing, and I certainly wasn’t going to be able to just accept it in the first minute I found out. I called her cell, but she didn’t answer. An hour later I called her at work, but she wasn’t in. I called her home, but the machine picked up. I drove to Biscayne Bay, but she wasn’t there.
I drove aimlessly, passing the entrance to the causeway where a black guy sat up on a mound of earth, watching the cars go by, his laundry hung out to dry over a guardrail. I ended up a couple of blocks farther at Bayside, a sprawling, colorful outdoor shopping and restaurant community on the bay, with a Hard Rock Cafe, Hooters, and all the other chain attractions you’d expect. It was almost like a carnival. I had a seven-dollar beer at an outdoor bar and watched a lady with a parrot on her shoulder hustle a mother and her little girl for a ten-dollar picture with the blue and red bird on the girl’s shoulder.
I’d blown off two afternoon appointments and figured I may have to find another job. Construction was probably out of the picture. Right now, Em’s father might not be in the best frame of mind to hire an unskilled carpenter.
When I pulled into the apartment, the truck was sitting in the lot. Buick-blue streaks and raw-rubbed metal graced the driver’s side of our moneymaker. It might take just about all the money we’d made to fix it. Right next to it was a rusted-out Ranchero, one of those old Fords with the front of a car and the back of a pick up. I’d seen it parked there before. It’s a junk heap that barely runs and the magnetic sign on the side says Refinance-let us make your dreams a reality. As if.
The TV was blaring and James was sprawled on the couch, drinking one of my beers, a box of Cheese Nips sitting on the floor.
“Oh, you’ve got dinner waiting?”
He grunted.
“Did you get to work this morning?”
“Yeah. There’s some cold crab in the fridge. Help yourself.”
I’d gotten to hate it almost as much as he did, but when money was tight his perks came in handy.
“The truck?”
“Angel brought it back this morning. He said something a little weird.”
“That would be so unlike him.”
James smiled. “No, this creeped me out. He said the guys in the Buick never showed up.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t know. I took it to mean that he was watching our place to see if they did.”
“Our own guardian angel.”
James looked up at me. “Honest to Christ, I never thought of that. He really was like an angel.”
“Yeah, well you didn’t do too bad last night in that role. Thanks for putting the truck on the line.”
He grunted again.
“James.”
“Dude?”
He could tell it was something important. It’s hard to explain that kind of a relationship to someone. I suppose an old married couple could have that relationship, although most of the old married people I know don’t really care for each other that much. But James and I understand each other. Most of the time.
“I’ve spent the last hour thinking about this.”
James punched the remote and the television went black.
“Tell me.”
I hesitated. I still wasn’t sure this was something he should know. But I’d come to the realization that he probably was the first person who needed to know. Eventually I wanted to go to my dictionary and look up the word conflicted. I felt certain that was an appropriate word for the way I felt about the entire situation. If I’d been high on some hallucinogen I couldn’t have been more confused.
“I’ve got a serious problem.”
“Something new going down?”
“No. Nothing to do with what’s been happening. This has to do with Em.”
James studied me for a moment. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head.
“You’ve got a serious problem? And it involves your on-again-off-again romance?”
“It does.”
“Either she’s leaving you or she’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant.”
“Who’s the father?”
I knew there was a reason he was my best friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The phone rang at three in the morning. When my cell phone is recharging it will just repeat, “You have an incoming call. You have an incoming call. You have an incoming call.”
I grabbed it, still somewhat foggy from what I call half-asleep. I hadn’t been able to drift off, but I wasn’t exactly wide awake. I knew who it was. It wasn’t.
“Eugene?”
