Lifers (45 page)

The detective was still staring at me but my mouth refused to work; thankfully, Torrey took over.

“Thanks for coming, detective. I’m assuming you have some news for us?”

He sat on one of the armchairs and leaned back. “Well, yes and no. Ryan Dupont has admitted to the assault, as you are aware, but refuses to name his accomplices. I want to know if you’ll be pressing charges—either of you.”

I glanced at Torrey. I’d seen the bruises on her arms, and that had made me madder than hell, and I felt guilty that she’d gotten hurt because of me. She folded her arms and stared back. She knew how I felt about this and we’d discussed what I was going to do. Or rather, not do.

“No,” I said, quietly. “I won’t be pressin’ charges.”

“Miss Delaney?”

“No, no charges.”

There was a short silence.

“I see,” said Detective Lopez. “May I ask why?”

I let out a long, painful breath.

“He was my brother’s best friend.”

In the end, out of all the things I could have said, out of all the explanations I could have given, that was the simplest answer for a stranger to comprehend.

Lopez nodded.

“In that case I won’t take up anymore of your time. Mr. Kane, Miss Delaney.”

He stood up and offered his hand. I stared at it, nonplussed, until Torrey cleared her throat. I stood up, too, and tentatively shook the guy’s hand.

Torrey saw him to the door and when she came back, she brushed a soft kiss over my lips.

“What’s that for?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“No, sweetheart, never.”

She smiled. “I think it’s because this means it’s over, so I sealed it with a kiss.”

“I love you, Torrey Delaney.”

“I know,” she said, and threw me a wink.

The next three weeks were boring as all hell, if you discounted the fact that it was pretty tense in the house having Momma and Torrey in the same building, even when they weren’t in the same room. They were civil to each other, but there was no warmth there. Torrey was kind of distant toward my dad, too, which was a shame because they’d been getting along so well before. I thought it was probably because I was mad at him for letting Momma come home, but if there was another reason, I wanted to know why.

After being uncharacteristically evasive, Torrey finally told me I was right, but it was also because she’d found out that he’d called her ‘trashy’. She was really hurt by that, and I was furious that Momma had taken pleasure in telling her. I already knew what he’d said, of course, but of all the things that Momma had hurt me over, telling Torrey, that was one of the hardest to forgive. If she’d just aimed her spite at me, I could have taken it, but not when she hurt the woman I loved.

I knew that Dad was ashamed of what he’d said, and Momma had been trying to make it up to me—to us—but somehow it had cut the final cords that bound us together. I had a new family now with Torrey.

She had to go back to work in the end. One of us needed to be earning an income, and I was as useful as a suntan in Siberia. I missed her like crazy and sent a million texts to her each day. I spent the rest of my time reading some, although that was tiring with just one good eye. I listened to the radio, occasionally watched TV. Other than that, I slept a lot.

Momma didn’t try and force her company on me, although she shopped for food, made sure I got meals at regular intervals, and just kind of kept things ticking over. But I’d lost my appetite since being in hospital, and chewing with a fractured cheekbone wasn’t the most fun thing ever. I had a lot of soup, and mac and cheese.

Momma drove me around for those few weeks. It was awkward. We didn’t talk much. I don’t think either of us knew how to. I guess we tried.

One afternoon, she was driving me to my appointment with the eye surgeon guy at his office, but stopping off at the junkyard first.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, tentatively.

“Fine.”

There was a long pause.

“Good,” she said, at last. “Torrey seems…”

When she didn’t finish the sentence, I glanced across expectantly.

“She seems good for you.”

I don’t know if it meant to sound like she was choking on the words, but it did.

“She is,” I replied, shortly.

End of conversation.

She turned into the junkyard’s entrance and parked near the office.

I needed to see Hulk and tell him I wouldn’t be coming back to work for him. I could have phoned, but the guy had done a lot for me and I owed him.

Momma waited in the car while I went to talk to him. He was sitting behind his child sized desk, dwarfing it as usual.

He stood up when he saw me, shoving his chair into the wall. Then without speaking, he wrapped his massive arms around me and squeezed tightly.

“Don’t break my damn ribs again!” I yelped.

Hulk released me with a snort of amusement. I didn’t think it was that funny. I was healing well, but it was still a work in progress.

“Good to see you, kid!” he said. “Heard yer still kickin’. Guess it was the truth.”

“Yep. Cain’t kill weeds, man.”

He looked at me appraisingly.

“I figured you’d be along. I’m guessin’ ya come to say your goodbyes.”

“Yeah. Me and Torrey will be headin’ out in a couple of days. Fresh start, ya know.”

He nodded, staring at me from behind his bushy eyebrows.

“I just wanted to thank you, man,” I said, feeling a little awkward at doing the emoting thing with Hulk. “If you hadn’t given me a job, hell, I’d probably be coolin’ my heels back in prison right about now.”

“You gettin’ soft on me, kid?” he asked, rumbling out a laugh.

“Maybe.”

He chuckled to himself.

“That’s the effect of women for ya. Gotta say, your girl’s fine. She can ride a horse in my string anytime. Look after that lil’ firecracker—got yesself a good ‘un there, kid.”

“I know. Thanks, Hulk. I won’t forget you.”

He cleared this throat a couple of times, and then he handed me an envelope.

“A little travelin’ money, kid. And a reference, jest in case ya get another job as good as this ‘un.”

We shook hands, and he clapped me on the back again.

“Vaya con Dios, kid.

He didn’t come out to the car, but I could see his massive silhouette framed in the doorway. As Momma drove away, he raised one hand in a salute.

I looked in the envelope to read his reference, but was amazed when I counted $1,000 in hundred dollar bills. I hadn’t expected that, but I knew exactly what I wanted to spend it on. It wouldn’t go for gas money, but I thought Hulk would approve the way I was planning on spending it.

In his own way, Hulk had done more for me than my own parents.

I was still thinking about some of the good times I’d had at the junkyard, when we arrived at the doctor’s office for the last of my weekly checkups.

I was suddenly aware that I hadn’t spoken a word to Momma since we left Hulk’s. Maybe she thought I was punishing her, but I wasn’t.

I appreciated her doing stuff for me, but I realized that there was too much water under the bridge for us to have a real close relationship ever again. I was okay with that, and I think she was, too. But at least she didn’t act like she hated me anymore, and I didn’t act like I needed her to. We were good, sort of.

Two weeks after Carson had come to see me, I’d finally admitted to my parents that I was no longer on parole. They’d been quiet, not saying much. Dad said ‘congratulations’ and shook my hand. Momma looked like she was going to cry, but I didn’t ask the reason.

I climbed out of the car and turned to look at her. She was staring straight ahead and didn’t seem inclined to move.

“I guess I’ll be about 30 minutes or so, Momma.”

She gave a staccato nod, and I left her sitting there, still gripping the steering wheel.

I didn’t have to wait too long to see the doc.

It was a month after the eye op now, and he did all the usual checks and seemed pleased with the way it was all going. Better still, he gave me the go-ahead to drive, but only for short distances. I still wasn’t allowed to fly because of the altitude, but even that would probably be okay in a couple of months, and it wasn’t like I was planning on vacationing in Hawaii anyway.

I seemed to be a little more sensitive to light in that eye, which kind of sucked, living in a real sunny part of the country. Maybe I’d have to go live in Alaska after all. Or maybe not, I didn’t think I could handle the glare off of the snow. Torrey bought me some Aviator Ray Bans. I nearly bust a gut when I found out how much they cost. She just laughed.

But as far as I was concerned, the most important question hadn’t been covered yet. So during that final appointment, I made it my priority question once I knew I wasn’t going blind.

“So, um, doc, you know that bit in the leaflet about ‘strenuous activity’?”

“Yes, and even now we advise no heavy lifting. No weightlifting for example,” he said, eyeing me closely, and looking pointedly at my biceps. At least I still had some muscle tone after being a complete freakin’ couch potato for a month.

“Nah, that’s okay. I haven’t lifted any weights. I’ve just been doing a few sit ups and push ups this last week to stop myself completely veggin’ out.”

“Do you run, Mr. Kane?”

I really couldn’t get used to all this mistering.

“I did. I haven’t started again.” I pointed to my chest. “Busted ribs, too.”

“Ah, of course. Even so, I wouldn’t recommend you start running again just yet. Maybe in a couple of months when things have settled down.”

I sighed.

“What about sex, doc?”

“Excuse me?”

“Please tell me I’m good to go. I’m about going crazy here!”

“Ah, I see. Well, it depends on how, um, vigorous the intercourse is. Ideally, I’d recommend against that.”

“Aw, hell! For how much longer?”

“Well,
gentle
activity will be fine.”

What the hell does that mean?

“In English, doc?”

“Ah, let your partner take most of the, uh, strain.”

“You mean let her be on top?”

“That would be one way of looking at it.”

Okay, I could live with that
.

“For how long? When can we … do other stuff?”

He smiled. “Mr. Kane, frustrating as this may seem, it’s really only in your best interests to let nature take its course and allow your eye to heal completely. Within two or three months, you’ll be pretty much back to living a normal life. We’ll have to look out for cataract development, as you know. But other than that, just try to take things easy for now.”

Yep, clear as mud.

I stood up.

“Thanks for everythin’, doc. I appreciate it.”

“Not at all. I’ll make a follow up appointment for you in…”

“Actually, doc, we’re not plannin’ on stayin’ around here. We’re gonna start again somewhere new.”

He looked surprised.

“So, if I could get a copy of my chart to take with me, that would be mighty handy.”

“I’ll certainly do that for you, Mr. Kane.” He reached over to shake my hand. “Good luck with everything.”

As I walked out of the door, he said, “Remember, nothing vigorous.”

Bastard.

But still, it was a green light as far as I was concerned.

Of course, organizing a night of romance wasn’t so simple bearing in mind I still lived with my parents, and my woman was a screamer.

I considered the options: even the cheapest motel would have wrecked my finances. I’d got a couple of month’s wages from Hulk saved up—a few hundred bucks—but the bonus he’d given me was earmarked for something real important. Money was in damn short supply and now I couldn’t work, and what with planning to start fresh I needed to save what I had.

In the end, I had to resort to begging. I phoned Dad at his office.

“Dad, any chance you could take Momma out somewhere tonight?”

He sounded puzzled.

“Out?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, Dad, out. I’d just like to cook Torrey a nice meal and spend some alone time with her.”

Alone time, Dad! Take the freakin’ hint!

“Well,” he said, hesitantly. “Perhaps I could take your mother out to dinner. It might be good for us, too. Fine, I’ll do it. We’ll be home by 9 PM.”

“You could take in a movie after,” I suggested.

He sighed. “I’ll ask her. I’m not promisin’.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Momma left the house soon after five, which gave me just half an hour to get everything ready.

My culinary skills were still limited by my budget, but I’d had an idea. I’d stopped at Krogers to buy a couple of pieces of trout, baking potatoes, and a bag of salad. I hoped the menu would remind Torrey of our first date.

Because I was short on time, I started off the potatoes in the microwave, then slung them in the oven to crisp up, grilled the fish, and cursed myself for not buying candles.

Jeez, I used to have game.

I dug around in the garage and found an old hurricane lamp and a couple of stubs of emergency candles. That would have to do. I ran around like a crazy person, putting finishing touches to my plan. At the last minute I remembered that we needed music. I’d lived without it for so long, it just wasn’t usually something I thought about. I’d saved up to buy a radio in prison once, but it was broken the first week I got it when my asswipe of a cell mate got into a fight with someone he owed money to. I didn’t bother again after that.