Part 25 (1/2)
Strange he'd think of Kellen Quinn all of a sudden. He hadn't thought of him in a while.
”New Orleans is a fun city.”
”Good idea. I've always wanted to go there.”
Jamie remembered, as from another life, his cocaine- and rum-fueled blast through New Orleans. He'd been blowing his share of the loot from that gun-smuggling deal... couldn't get rid of that money fast enough...
”You're better off in Fort Lauderdale, though, kid.”
Jamie suddenly didn't want Rick in New Orleans.
Florida would be wild enough.
Geez, I'm turning into an old fart, Jamie thought. And I'm not even forty, yet.
Rick said, ”That will be about time to fit up the boat.”
”You won't be home till summer, and not much then,”
Trisha pointed out.
”I don't care-when I am home, I'll want the boat. And I expect Jamie and you to keep it seaworthy.”
”I won't be home much either,” Trisha said. ”You're not the only college student in this town. Looks like Jamie's stuck with it.”
”Guess so.”
Rick still insisted no one else take care of his boat. This care included Jamie taking the boat for a sail on his days off. Rick, in reality, didn't have much time to sail anymore but made sure Jamie had a legitimate excuse to use the boat.
The Hawkeses had a kind streak but seemed terrified that someone would find out.
”Were you at the shelter this morning?” Rick handed the apple pie around.
”Just for a couple of hours. Christmas, Thanksgiving, we get a lot of volunteers,” Jamie answered. ”Wish they'd remember people are homeless other days of the year.”
”You know, you never have been able to get Grenville down there.” Trisha slyly caught Rick's eye. Jamie's inability to tolerate the least criticism of Grenville had been a family joke for years.
Once Rick tried to laugh about it to Grenville. Grenville had gazed at him with eyes of winter midnight and said, ”Jamie's loyalty has always been one of his most estimable qualities. One we would all do well to emulate.” Rick was uncomfortable enough with the look, the tone, the words, to never bring it up again. As if cued, Jamie said, ”Grenville writes us some nice- size checks. That's hard enough for him. People help in different ways.”
He took a bite of pie. ”It's not like I see your young smart a.s.ses down there helping, either.”
They ate in silence for a moment. Then Mrs. Pivens cleared her throat.
”We enjoyed the Christmas pageant this year.”
”n.o.body fell off the stage and broke their arm. That's all I ever ask.”
Jamie still couldn't figure out how the job of making scenery had turned into the job of a.s.sistant stage manager for the school plays. The job mainly consisted of helping Miss Maples herd kids on and off the stage, hissing lines to terrified performers.
”Mickey was a darling angel,” Mrs. Pivens said.
Jamie laughed. ”He's a little h.e.l.l-raiser.”
”Must get it from Katie,” Trisha said.
”Wait till two years from now, when you get the twins,”
Mrs. Pivens said. ”Katie and Mitch are bringing them all by a little later.”
”I guess you know, Katie's started on her fourth,” Jamie said. ”Says she can already tell it's another boy.”
Mrs. Pivens gave him a sympathetic look, but before anyone could say anything, Jamie got up, searched the fridge, and held up an icy bottle of champagne.
”Some Christmas cheer.”
”This looks like good stuff.” Rick eyed the foil label. ”One of my ch.o.r.es this week was picking up the Christmas liquor,” Jamie said. ”I thought a tip was in order.” Grenville had agreed. The cork made a satisfying explosion. ”Merry Christmas.”
When Jamie pulled the car around to the front entrance of the Manor, Grenville and Louisa were already down the steps. Lydia and Richard waved from the doorway, then the ponderous door swung shut.
Jamie opened the back door of the black Mercedes sedan.
”Do you think you are capable of driving us home?”
”More capable than you are,” Jamie said. Grenville could drink anyone in town under the table, but his driving skills left much to be desired.
”Hop in.”
”Honestly, Jamie, have you ever seen Grenville hop?”
Louisa asked in all seriousness.
Jamie thought it better not to answer. He stopped at the Lodge.
”Jamie,” Louisa said, ”if you ever get that firewood, you are under no circ.u.mstances to help unload it.”
”I concur.” Grenville opened the door for Louisa. ”You are no longer five and twenty, and with your bad back...”
Jamie remained silent as they went into the Lodge. If Grenville did not return in ten minutes, Jamie knew to drive home alone. They should have gotten married a long time ago, Jamie thought. Then we'd have a little Hawkes running around the Hall I could teach to sail....
After a short time, Grenville joined Jamie in the front seat.
Jamie had made the drive between the Manor, the Lodge, and Hawkes Hall so many times he could have done it far drunker than he was now. He parked in front of the Hall and went around to open the door for Grenville-it was habit, Grenville no longer required servantlike behavior from him.
”Jamie.” Grenville frowned at him.
Once that frown could make him cringe, but now Jamie realized Grenville just had too much port and was trying to think. No longer monster. No longer G.o.d.
”What?”
Jamie gave him a hand out of the car.