Part 21 (1/2)
”What do you think?” Crockett asked, coming to stand beside him at one of the big palladium windows that displayed the Twilight River. ”Think you could work here?”
”Yeah. I found out this summer that I can work most anywhere. If I'm here, I can keep the strips going and have artistic control of both of them. If I hire another artist plus an a.s.sistant, I can even keep reasonable hours, like a real person.” He laughed. ”'Eight Hours Work' can be a reality.”
”That apartment's pretty nice. You going to live there?”
Boone hesitated. ”No. I want a house. But I was thinking maybe Jack's family could live there. He and his mom could be caretakers for the building in lieu of rent, so she could cut back on her hours at the casino. I know it won't be the same for them as having their house, but they wouldn't have to worry about foreclosure, either. Kelly's almost positive once they're in a stable home again, the little boys will be able to come back to their mom.”
”Sometimes, Boone, I think you are a really good guy.” Crockett's hand rested on his shoulder for a moment.
”But then you rethink it, right?” Boone laughed, both embarra.s.sed and pleased.
”You'll miss Chicago.”
”It'll still be there, just a short flight away.”
Crockett held his gaze. ”Your life there?”
”The old one doesn't exist anymore, and I don't care about the new one.” Boone could see the houses on the River Walk from this vantage point. Micah and Landy's big Victorian had a few s.h.i.+ngles missing from the tower. A couple of Frisbees in neon colors lay on the roof of Eli's house a few doors down. ”Actually, the new life doesn't exist anymore, either. As soon as I got back to the apartment after leaving here, I called the doctor who lived there through the summer. He's got himself a new wife who really loves the place. She was walking through with us and she pointed at the corner of the dining room and said, 'Oh, my piano would fit right there.' I swear, I felt Maggie pus.h.i.+ng me from behind, telling me she wanted her to have the place. So I sold it to them.”
Crockett grinned. ”That's great news. Have you told Lucy?”
”Not yet.”
”Does she know you're here?”
”No one does but you and Sims. How about you? You left two weeks ago just like I did and here we are, back like proverbial bad pennies.”
”Only you and Sims know.”
Boone narrowed his eyes. Nervous energy had been an integral part of his friend all through their growing-up years. As an adult, Crockett became more laid back and infinitely quieter. Boone always attributed the change to his faith-no, to his calling to the priesthood. He wasn't so sure anymore. And the nervous energy was back. ”You're coming back to Taft, aren't you?”
”I don't know.” Crockett shrugged. ”I want to be here when Gert has her bypa.s.s surgery next week and my mind and heart weren't where they needed to be anyway, so I requested a leave.”
Boone waited, then said, ”So where are they?”
”Where are what?”
”Your mind and your heart.”
”I don't know that, either,” Crockett admitted. ”My faith's not a problem, though I seem to be losing my ability to 'let go and let G.o.d,' which is not only a catch phrase but a necessary part of being a priest. All I can say for sure is that the only time I feel at home or feel any kind of peace is when I am home. Here, with my family.”
”I'd like it...we'd all like it if you came back.” Oh, h.e.l.l, yes. Boone grinned slyly. ”Thinking of giving up celibacy? That's one vow I know you really did take.”
”And one I'd be happy to forsake,” Crockett said ruefully. ”But it's all a ways down the road. I haven't left the priesthood or Virginia yet.”
Boone nodded. ”But you will.” He extended his hand. ”Think Taft can stand up to having both of us back?”
”They'll have to change the sign.”
”Ready to go home?” It was funny how quickly calling the Twilight Park Avenue house ”home” had become comfortable again, even more so now that Crockett might be returning too. ”We'll get there in time for leftovers from lunch. I haven't eaten since breakfast in Chicago and a little bitty package of some really hard things on the plane.”
”Me, either. I wonder what kind of soup Lucy made today.”
”Vegetable. I talked to her this morning. Aunt Gert made chicken and noodles and mashed potatoes, too.”
”What are we waiting for?”
Gert and Lucy were in the kitchen when they got there. Lucy was loading the dishwasher and Gert was counting receipts. After a flurry of hugs and an in-depth kiss between Lucy and Boone behind the pantry door, the men sat down with the hoped-for leftovers. They'd just progressed to pumpkin pie-shared straight from the pan without benefit of plates-when a knock came at the back door.
Lucy went to open it, and when they heard her cry out, Boone led the rush through the sunroom.
Stan Morgan stood just inside the doorway. Lucy was beside him with a small black and white cat in her arms. ”Look.” Tears flowed unrestrainedly down her face. ”See who's home.”
”She showed up over the weekend.” Mr. Morgan reached out to scratch Kinsey's head. ”Made herself right to home on the back porch. I fed her and all, but, you know, she just seemed so sad lying there. Then Jack, that boy that works for you, came by this afternoon on his way home from school. He stopped to help me rake some leaves, and the cat came off the porch and climbed him like he was her favorite tree. He told me, then, where she belonged, and I brought her back right away.”
”Well.” Gert blew her nose and petted the cat with a trembling hand. ”Appears like everyone's coming home today. Come in, Stan, before these boys eat everything in sight, and have a cup of coffee.”
”Don't mind if I do. My own doesn't taste all that good.”
Kelly and Sims came while he was there, then Jack appeared in the back yard, raking and bagging more leaves. Tom, still in uniform, was the next visitor. He stood talking with Jack for a long time, then they both came inside.
Tom nodded to everyone's questioning gaze. ”It's going to be all right. Kelly's his advocate, but I reckon you'll all work together at keeping him in line and well-fed.” He glared at Jack. ”You need help with anything, you know where my office is, right?”
”Yes, sir.” Jack spoke with his mouth full, spraying cookie crumbs. ”Sorry. Thank you, sir.”
”And stop calling me sir.”
”Yes, sir. I mean, yes, sheriff.”
Tom sighed, taking the cup of coffee Lucy offered. ”It's Tom. Just call me Tom, all right?”
”Yes, sir.”
It had probably been, Lucy decided, rolling out piecrust at midnight, the happiest afternoon she'd ever known. Everyone she loved had been crowded into the kitchen, plus a few who'd gained, like the t.i.tle of a favorite old movie, places in her heart.
She wondered once again what had happened to the jar containing her tips and dreams. There hadn't been that much money in it-she'd taken to putting it in the bank every month or so-but she'd been gathering the dreams, detailed on slips of paper, receipts, napkins and business cards, since she was sixteen. Some had been achieved, some abandoned when they were outgrown, and some...some still resided in her mental hope chest.
Make that emotional hope chest, she amended, dusting her hands on her ap.r.o.n and bending to pick up the cat who came to wind herself around Lucy's ankles. ”I missed you so much,” she murmured, and Kinsey b.u.mped her chin with her head.