Fresh Kills by Reggie Nadelson Page A

cheated. He wants to buy a wine bar.”
    â€œJeez,” said Maxine.
    â€œI miss you.”
    â€œMe too. A lot.”
    â€œI have something I have to tell you,” I said.
    â€œYou won the lottery?”
    â€œI wish.”
    â€œYou won the lottery and you lost the ticket, but I love you anyway. Do you care that we’re always sort of broke?” Maxine said. “Do you wish you’d married some rich girl?”
    â€œDon’t be an idiot.”
    â€œOK, I’m a knucklehead as my uncles would have said. You could have married a rich one,” said Maxine. “You were hot when I met you.”
    Glad to avoid what I had to tell her, I said, “What do you mean ‘were’ hot?”
    â€œYou’re married now.”
    â€œSo it’s fun out there?”
    â€œOh, Artie, honey, it’s amazing, the sun shines, the beaches are great, the zoo was fantastic, the girls are in heaven, I just so totally wish you were here. What is it? What were you going to tell me?”
    I told her. I said that I had picked up Billy Farone in Florida, like I’d told her, because his parents were away. I also told her he was here with me for a few days until they came back.
    What for, Maxine asked me, her voice crisp now. What did you do that for, she said. They should never have let the kid out. She told me she knew how I felt about Billy but it wasn’t my job to take care of him. Billy has parents, she said.
    â€œListen to me,” said Maxine. “He killed a man.”
    I didn’t answer her.
    â€œArtie? You there?”
    â€œIt was complicated,” I said.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHe’s different now. You’ll see. He’s fine.”
    â€œI don’t want to see,” she said. “I don’t want him anywhere near where my girls are, or our apartment, not now, or later. I don’t want anyone knowing he’s there. It makes us a target,” Maxine added. “If he’s there, then take him someplace else. I don’t want him around, and I don’t want to talk about it either.”
    â€œWow, that’s tough.”
    â€œI’m sorry if you think so.”
    â€œYou’ll see how different he is,” I said.
    â€œNo,” she said. “I don’t want to see.”
    *
    In bed, I spent a lot of the night staring at the ceiling. It was Wednesday morning now. There wasn’t much noise, not even a garbage truck, just the distant hoot of a tug on the river. I saw the clock at three, again at four, and all I could think about was Maxine’s chilly tone when she refused to discuss Billy with me.
    I didn’t remember falling asleep. In the morning my head was killing me from a hangover. I reached for the phone to call Maxine, but it was five a.m. in California. There wasn’t much to talk about anyway. She didn’t want Billy here.

Part Two
Wednesday July 6

10
    â€œWake up, Artie.” Billy was standing over me with a glass of orange juice in his hand. He was wearing faded jeans, a denim shirt and his black sneakers. He was fine. It was morning.
    I swung my legs over the bed, took the orange juice, drank some, realized I was naked and Billy was looking at me. I got back under the covers and finished the juice, not knowing why it made me uncomfortable, him seeing me like that.
    â€œThanks,” I said. “That was great.”
    â€œService with a smile,” he cracked. “You want me to make breakfast for you? I’m a pretty good cook. Mom taught me.”
    â€œWhat time is it?”
    â€œAlmost nine.”
    â€œShit,” I said. “It’s late.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œWe’re going out for breakfast. You feel like making coffee, though? You know how?”
    â€œArtie, I’m fourteen.” He left the room and I went and took a shower, got dressed and went into the kitchen where Billy was making coffee. He poured some into a mug. I drank it.
    â€œGood.