Part 15 (1/2)
”Yeah, right. I'd much rather be sharing my son's one-bedroom house on his lumpy couch in the living room, and taking away his privacy at the same time.”
”But . . . but Sophie and Bella are staying with me. They're still frightened and don't want to be alone.”
”They're not alone. They have each other. Or they can bunk in with Evvie or Ida. Or any of the fifty willing people at the meeting. Any more excuses?”
He gazes at me imploringly. I think of the man I accompanied to Key West with such love light s.h.i.+ning in his eyes.
”None.” I melt into his arms. ”What a fool I am.”
He hugs me tightly. ”And now all of Lanai Gardens knows it.”
”It will take a little while until I get Soph and Bella out.”
”I'm known for my amazing patience.”
We kiss long and deeply. ”Say it,” he says. ”Come on, it will only hurt for a minute.”
I look into those gorgeous eyes. ”Jack Langford, will you live with me?”
He lifts me up and whirls me around. ”It's about time, babe.”
And once again, the sound of applause, as who knows how many of the fifty are outside the clubhouse, kvell kvelling at our love scene.
Jack bows to them, then attempts to pull me into a run. But I stop him. ”In my hurry I left my sweater in the clubhouse.”
He says, ”Go get it and meet me at my old building. I want to see if anything's happening.” He takes off, and I attempt to pretend indifference as I pa.s.s my amused audience.
I expect the clubhouse to be empty, but as I'm about to step inside, I see Evvie and Joe. From the look of them, they're in the middle of an intense conversation. I should leave, but can't stop myself from listening.
Evvie is shouting, ”What are you trying to do to me? I'm having a nice retirement, and you barge in.”
Joe speaks softly, pleadingly. ”Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg? I will if you want me to.”
Evvie softens slightly. ”No, I just want you to go away and leave me alone.”
”And I want to make up for what I did to you in our marriage.”
She backs away slightly. ”So apologize already and get it over with. No, don't even bother. I accept your apology in advance. So, go back to New York.”
”I hate the weather, I can't take the cold anymore.”
”I'm sure our daughter will make sure you're nice and warm.”
”No, I can't go there . . . I mean, I won't. I don't want to do that anymore. It's a small house. They need their s.p.a.ce. It's not fair to them.”
”So go live with your your relatives. I'm sure your sisters will be thrilled to have you.” relatives. I'm sure your sisters will be thrilled to have you.”
His voice climbs higher a notch. ”I don't want to, Evvie. I want to be with you! I need you, Evvie. I love you!”
This stops my poor sister in her tracks. She gasps in astonishment. ”Joe, please . . . don't.” Then angrier, ”Don't you dare say that to me!”
I back away from the door. I can't bear watching anymore.
21.
The Skeleton
Ihurry to meet Jack at his building. By now, what's left of the structure is yellow-taped. In the sharp sunlight, I look up to the crushed second floor. It looks even worse than it looked on that first gray morning. I shudder to imagine what might have happened.
He's not in front. I become aware of people hurrying to the rear, and I follow them. There's quite a crowd hanging around behind the yellow police tape, including Stanley Heyer and Abe Waller. I see Jack, and I join him, not wanting to miss a thing.
I watch the cops. Besides Morrie Langford and Oz Was.h.i.+ngton, there's a medical examiner and a team of police. They're all in hip boots, what with the ground still muddy from the storm. The sun is out, but it's weak, barely illuminating the scene. The cops have brought their own powerful work lamps.
At the bottom of the cave-in, which seems to me about five feet deep, a couple of the gloved policemen carefully bag the skeleton and place it on a pulley.
Once the remains are hoisted out, the cops gather up what else might give them clues as to what happened to this person so long ago. They send up bag after bag of their findings. Other cops carefully lay the items down on a large tarp on the ground. We try hard to see what's there. Looks like a few sc.r.a.ps of fabric. Some shredded, sodden pieces of paper. When they retrieve a gray ma.s.s of something that looks like metal, Stanley gasps.
Oz and Morrie turn to him. ”Something?” Morrie asks.
Stanley is shaken. ”It looks like a piece from one of the helmets my men wore on the site.”
Oz lifts the yellow tape for Stanley to enter. ”Come and take a closer look,” Oz tells him.
Stanley nervously moves toward the wretchedlooking items on the tarp. ”Yes, it could be.”
Now Oz and Morrie talk in lower voices, but my hearing is sharp and I hardly miss a word.
Oz comments, ”The cloth looks like it might have come from a plaid s.h.i.+rt. We'll know better when we have it a.n.a.lyzed at the lab.”
”Remind you of anything?” Morrie asks Stanley.
He sighs. ”Yes. One of my workers went AWOL the day before we poured the concrete.”
Morrie says, ”It could save us a lot of trouble if you can remember his name.”
”Johnny Blake. When we first saw the skeleton, I had a hunch and went through my old records. He was new on the job. My foreman, Ed Luddy, hired him while I was away on business.”
”Could you describe him for us?” Oz asks.