bad.”
“What do you hear from Robin?”
“I got a card a few days ago. The Ginza at night. They’re
wining and dining her. Apparently it’s the first time they’ve entertained a
woman that way.”
“What is it they’re after, exactly?” he asked.
“She designed a guitar for Rockin’ Billy Orleans and
he played it onstage in Madison Square Garden. The music trades interviewed him
after the concert and he raved about the instrument and the fantastic female
luthier who’d created it. The U.S. rep for a Japanese conglomerate picked up on
it and sent it to his bosses. They decided it was worth mass-producing as a
Billy Orleans model and invited her over there to talk about it.”
“Maybe she’ll end up supporting you, huh?”
“Maybe,” I said glumly and signaled the waiter for
another beer.
“I see you’re real overjoyed about it.”
“I’m happy for her,” I said quickly. “It’s the big
break she’s been waiting for. It’s just that I miss her like crazy, Milo. It’s
the longest we’ve been apart and I’ve lost my taste for solitude.”
“That all of it?” he asked, picking up his fork.
I looked up sharply. “What else?”
“Well,” he said, between mouthfuls, “I may be totally
off base here, Doctor, but it seems to me that this Japanese thing puts a new
perspective on your—pardon the expression— relationship.”
“How so?”
“Like for the past couple of years, you’ve been the
one with the bread, right? She makes a living, but the life the two of you’ve
been leading—Maui, theater tickets, that incredible garden—who pays for it?”
“I don’t get the point,” I said, annoyed.
“The point is that despite your pretending it ain’t
so, you guys have had a traditional setup. Now she’s got the chance to become a
big shot and it could all change.”
“I can handle it.”
“Sure you can. Forget I brought it up.”
“Consider it forgotten.” I looked down at my plate.
All of a sudden my appetite was gone. I pushed the food away and fixed my gaze
on a flock of gulls raiding the pier for bait scraps. “You insightful bastard,”
I said. “Sometimes you’re spooky.”
He reached across the table and patted my shoulder. “Hey,
you’re not a very subtle guy. Everything registers on that lean and hungry
face.”
I rested my chin in my hands. “Things were going along
so nice and simple. She kept the studio after she moved in, we prided ourselves
on giving each other room to move. Lately we’d started talking marriage,
babies. It was great, both of us moving at the same pace, mutual decisions.
Now,” I shrugged, “who knows?” I took a long swallow of the Dutch brew. “I’ll
tell you, Milo, they don’t cover it in the psych books, but there’s such a
thing as the paternal urge and at thirty-five I’m feeling it.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ve felt it, too.”
My stare was involuntary.
“Don’t look so surprised. Just because it’s never
gonna happen doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.”
“You never can tell. They’re getting pretty liberal.”
He loosened his belt a notch and buttered a piece of
bread. “Not that liberal.” He laughed. “Besides, Rick and I are not
equiped for motherhood or whatever you wanna call it. Can’t you just see it—me
shopping at Toys “ я” Us and Dr. Fastidious changing diapers?”
We shared a good laugh over that.
“Anyway,” he said, “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore
point, but it’s something you’re gonna have to deal with. I did. For most of my
life I made my own way. My parents didn’t give me squat. I’ve been working at
one dodge or another since eleven, Alex. Paper routes, tutoring, picking pears,
construction, a little time out for the M.A., then Saigon and the force. You
don’t get rich in Homicide, but a single guy can get by nicely. I was lonely as
hell but my needs were met. After I met Rick and we started living together, it
all changed. You remember my old
“What do you hear from Robin?”
“I got a card a few days ago. The Ginza at night. They’re
wining and dining her. Apparently it’s the first time they’ve entertained a
woman that way.”
“What is it they’re after, exactly?” he asked.
“She designed a guitar for Rockin’ Billy Orleans and
he played it onstage in Madison Square Garden. The music trades interviewed him
after the concert and he raved about the instrument and the fantastic female
luthier who’d created it. The U.S. rep for a Japanese conglomerate picked up on
it and sent it to his bosses. They decided it was worth mass-producing as a
Billy Orleans model and invited her over there to talk about it.”
“Maybe she’ll end up supporting you, huh?”
“Maybe,” I said glumly and signaled the waiter for
another beer.
“I see you’re real overjoyed about it.”
“I’m happy for her,” I said quickly. “It’s the big
break she’s been waiting for. It’s just that I miss her like crazy, Milo. It’s
the longest we’ve been apart and I’ve lost my taste for solitude.”
“That all of it?” he asked, picking up his fork.
I looked up sharply. “What else?”
“Well,” he said, between mouthfuls, “I may be totally
off base here, Doctor, but it seems to me that this Japanese thing puts a new
perspective on your—pardon the expression— relationship.”
“How so?”
“Like for the past couple of years, you’ve been the
one with the bread, right? She makes a living, but the life the two of you’ve
been leading—Maui, theater tickets, that incredible garden—who pays for it?”
“I don’t get the point,” I said, annoyed.
“The point is that despite your pretending it ain’t
so, you guys have had a traditional setup. Now she’s got the chance to become a
big shot and it could all change.”
“I can handle it.”
“Sure you can. Forget I brought it up.”
“Consider it forgotten.” I looked down at my plate.
All of a sudden my appetite was gone. I pushed the food away and fixed my gaze
on a flock of gulls raiding the pier for bait scraps. “You insightful bastard,”
I said. “Sometimes you’re spooky.”
He reached across the table and patted my shoulder. “Hey,
you’re not a very subtle guy. Everything registers on that lean and hungry
face.”
I rested my chin in my hands. “Things were going along
so nice and simple. She kept the studio after she moved in, we prided ourselves
on giving each other room to move. Lately we’d started talking marriage,
babies. It was great, both of us moving at the same pace, mutual decisions.
Now,” I shrugged, “who knows?” I took a long swallow of the Dutch brew. “I’ll
tell you, Milo, they don’t cover it in the psych books, but there’s such a
thing as the paternal urge and at thirty-five I’m feeling it.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ve felt it, too.”
My stare was involuntary.
“Don’t look so surprised. Just because it’s never
gonna happen doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.”
“You never can tell. They’re getting pretty liberal.”
He loosened his belt a notch and buttered a piece of
bread. “Not that liberal.” He laughed. “Besides, Rick and I are not
equiped for motherhood or whatever you wanna call it. Can’t you just see it—me
shopping at Toys “ я” Us and Dr. Fastidious changing diapers?”
We shared a good laugh over that.
“Anyway,” he said, “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore
point, but it’s something you’re gonna have to deal with. I did. For most of my
life I made my own way. My parents didn’t give me squat. I’ve been working at
one dodge or another since eleven, Alex. Paper routes, tutoring, picking pears,
construction, a little time out for the M.A., then Saigon and the force. You
don’t get rich in Homicide, but a single guy can get by nicely. I was lonely as
hell but my needs were met. After I met Rick and we started living together, it
all changed. You remember my old
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