Part 41 (1/2)

”Who's that?” Delores asked.

”Thurman Dominguez,” Gordon said, staring. It was a look Dennis hadn't seen before, menacing and cold.

”Jada!” Delores called. She waited a minute, then called again to say they had to go. Ignoring her, the girl bounced with excitement and kept talking.

”Now what do I do?” Delores said under her breath.

”Get in the car,” Gordon said.

”I can't just leave her.”

”She'll come.”

She opened the door and the girl ran across the street and climbed in beside her.

They were led to the back booth of the bright little restaurant. As soon as they sat down, Gordon began to study the menu. Dennis asked if he was in that much of a rush.

”I'm sorry.” Gordon closed the menu. ”I just wanted to see what they have. I really like Italian food.”

Maybe he liked it too much, Dennis said, laughing.

”I know.” Gordon patted his belly. ”I've gotta do something about this.”

They talked for a few minutes about dieting. Dennis suggested he sign up at a gym. There was a Gold's Gym near the plant. ”It's within walking distance. You could go after work, you know, an hour or so. Lift a little, put a couple miles in on the treadmill. Maybe even go early, before work. That's really the best time. I don't even think straight in the morning unless I've run a couple miles. . . .”

He has that look again, Dennis thought, Dennis thought, that childlike courtesy. I can talk myself hoa.r.s.e and those flat eyes just keep on looking at me. That big, implacable face, never disagreeing, for fear of what, an argument? A stir in the air? The energy it might take? that childlike courtesy. I can talk myself hoa.r.s.e and those flat eyes just keep on looking at me. That big, implacable face, never disagreeing, for fear of what, an argument? A stir in the air? The energy it might take? These Sat.u.r.day lunches were far more effort than they were worth. And boring as h.e.l.l. Thankfully, today's would have to be short. The receptionist was coming in for a while this afternoon to go over the new phone system. She was attracted to him. He could tell. Nothing like Jilly, of course. This one was older and married with a couple kids, two in college, not the type to have any illusions. No desperate need for a family. If anything, just the opposite: her husband bullied her, and the older son had what sounded like one h.e.l.l of a drug problem. He had missed Jilly terribly at first, still did in a way, though the therapist said what he really missed was the excitement of being with someone who barely knew him, someone he could be a good person for, a confidante, someone he could help without being permanently committed to. These Sat.u.r.day lunches were far more effort than they were worth. And boring as h.e.l.l. Thankfully, today's would have to be short. The receptionist was coming in for a while this afternoon to go over the new phone system. She was attracted to him. He could tell. Nothing like Jilly, of course. This one was older and married with a couple kids, two in college, not the type to have any illusions. No desperate need for a family. If anything, just the opposite: her husband bullied her, and the older son had what sounded like one h.e.l.l of a drug problem. He had missed Jilly terribly at first, still did in a way, though the therapist said what he really missed was the excitement of being with someone who barely knew him, someone he could be a good person for, a confidante, someone he could help without being permanently committed to.

”Same with Lisa,” he added quickly, brightly, to bring himself around. ”She's running five miles a day now.”

”How's she doing?” Gordon asked.

”Good. She's deep into Father Hank's youth thing, the new center, so she's happy. Well, busy, anyway.”

Gordon seemed about to say something, but just then the waitress brought their meals. He ate with a fixed intensity Dennis could not watch. There was so much his brother needed. It's more than food. Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d, he's never gotten any breaks, just the short end of the stick. Second best, far behind, it's the only way he's ever known. It's more than food. Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d, he's never gotten any breaks, just the short end of the stick. Second best, far behind, it's the only way he's ever known. ”Hey, Gord. Something's been bothering the h.e.l.l outta me ever since that night at the house-the police, and what I said. I'm sorry. I was way outta line.” ”Hey, Gord. Something's been bothering the h.e.l.l outta me ever since that night at the house-the police, and what I said. I'm sorry. I was way outta line.”

Gordon looked up, surprised and still chewing. ”No. You weren't. You weren't at all. Of course you'd think that.” He gave that imploring little shrug. ”Who wouldn't?”

Anger flashed through Dennis at once again having his feelings, his efforts, so trivialized. There was no getting through the thickness. Ever. ”And that's okay? That's all right?”

”I didn't say that.”