or four of the docks were unfenced, and a few Orientals squatted fishing with long poles. The Sausalito ferry came in with a deafening honk of its horn, spewing out a carefree river of tourists. Hardy went with the current, letting it carry him inland with the flow. He turned uptown, noticed the time and hailed a cab to take him the last ten blocks.
11
Jane was in a banquette in the dining area behind the bar. There was a tulip glass of champagne on the table in front of her. She had cut her dark hair very short, but Jane always managed to look good. As a buyer for I. Magnin, she always hovered at or near the top of haute couture , six weeks ahead of everybody else. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
‘Ivoire de Balmain,’ he said. It was the perfume he’d always bought her on Christmas. He didn’t think it was a coincidence she was wearing it now.
‘You have a good nose.’ She kissed him again, quickly, on the lips. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘It is,’ he admitted.
He ordered a club soda and found out Jane was seeing a younger man, an architect named Chuck.
‘Chuck, Chuck, bo-buck, bo-nano-bano, bo-fu…’
‘Dismas.’ She put a shushing finger to his lips.
‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ he said.
‘I’m sure you have.’ She gave him an amused look. ‘He’s a wonderful guy.’
‘I’m sure he is. It’s a wonderful song, too. You can’t do it to Dismas, you know. Dismas, Dismas, bo-bismas… it just doesn’t scan,’ The club soda arrived.
‘Club soda is a change,’ Jane said.
Hardy sipped. ‘Change is my life right now. If I have my old usual couple of beers for lunch, you can forget about the afternoon. I tried it a few times. Bad idea.’
She sipped her champagne. ‘So you’re really back at prosecuting?’
‘I am.’
‘And you like it?’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘Sometimes. It’s more b.s. than I remember, but it’s all right.’
They waded through another five minutes of small talk before they ordered — calamari for Hardy, quattro formaggio calzone for Jane. Hardy broke down and decided to have some wine, so he and Jane ordered a half bottle of Pinot Grigio.
When the waiter had gone, Hardy said, ‘So you’ve seen your dad?’
She nodded. ‘You were right. There’s definitely something.’
‘That’s what I thought. Frannie says it’s a woman.’
Jane took that in, sipped at her champagne. ‘Why did she say that?’
Hardy told Jane about the jade paperweight, how Andy had demanded he take it. ‘Frannie said seeing it every day reminded him of his broken heart, so he had to give it away.’ He held up a hand. ‘Her words — she’s more melodramatic than I am.’
‘I also think she’s right.’
‘Did he say that?’
‘He didn’t deny it. I asked him point blank if he was all right, if something was bothering him.’
‘And what’d he say?’
‘He said he’d just become more aware of mortality lately, that nothing lasts forever.’
‘This is not exactly headline stuff, Jane.’
‘I know. It just seemed evasive, the way Daddy’s always been about his personal life. So I asked if something specific had triggered all those feelings, you know. He said a friend of his had died and he just had to accept it. I asked who, and he said I didn’t know him, it didn’t matter.’
‘He said you didn’t know him ?’
She shook her head. ‘But I don’t think he meant that, meant it was a man.’
It occurred to Hardy that, impossible as it might seem, Andy Fowler could be gay. In San Francisco, you never knew. ‘But if that’s what he said…?’
‘No. There was a pause before he said that. Something, anyway. Then he patted my hand and thanked me for being concerned, but that he could work all this out himself, he was a big boy.’
The food came, the wine ritual. Hardy dipped some fresh bread in a little bowl of olive oil on the table. Jane cut into her calzone and let the steam escape.
‘What I think,’ she said, ‘is it
11
Jane was in a banquette in the dining area behind the bar. There was a tulip glass of champagne on the table in front of her. She had cut her dark hair very short, but Jane always managed to look good. As a buyer for I. Magnin, she always hovered at or near the top of haute couture , six weeks ahead of everybody else. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
‘Ivoire de Balmain,’ he said. It was the perfume he’d always bought her on Christmas. He didn’t think it was a coincidence she was wearing it now.
‘You have a good nose.’ She kissed him again, quickly, on the lips. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘It is,’ he admitted.
He ordered a club soda and found out Jane was seeing a younger man, an architect named Chuck.
‘Chuck, Chuck, bo-buck, bo-nano-bano, bo-fu…’
‘Dismas.’ She put a shushing finger to his lips.
‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ he said.
‘I’m sure you have.’ She gave him an amused look. ‘He’s a wonderful guy.’
‘I’m sure he is. It’s a wonderful song, too. You can’t do it to Dismas, you know. Dismas, Dismas, bo-bismas… it just doesn’t scan,’ The club soda arrived.
‘Club soda is a change,’ Jane said.
Hardy sipped. ‘Change is my life right now. If I have my old usual couple of beers for lunch, you can forget about the afternoon. I tried it a few times. Bad idea.’
She sipped her champagne. ‘So you’re really back at prosecuting?’
‘I am.’
‘And you like it?’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘Sometimes. It’s more b.s. than I remember, but it’s all right.’
They waded through another five minutes of small talk before they ordered — calamari for Hardy, quattro formaggio calzone for Jane. Hardy broke down and decided to have some wine, so he and Jane ordered a half bottle of Pinot Grigio.
When the waiter had gone, Hardy said, ‘So you’ve seen your dad?’
She nodded. ‘You were right. There’s definitely something.’
‘That’s what I thought. Frannie says it’s a woman.’
Jane took that in, sipped at her champagne. ‘Why did she say that?’
Hardy told Jane about the jade paperweight, how Andy had demanded he take it. ‘Frannie said seeing it every day reminded him of his broken heart, so he had to give it away.’ He held up a hand. ‘Her words — she’s more melodramatic than I am.’
‘I also think she’s right.’
‘Did he say that?’
‘He didn’t deny it. I asked him point blank if he was all right, if something was bothering him.’
‘And what’d he say?’
‘He said he’d just become more aware of mortality lately, that nothing lasts forever.’
‘This is not exactly headline stuff, Jane.’
‘I know. It just seemed evasive, the way Daddy’s always been about his personal life. So I asked if something specific had triggered all those feelings, you know. He said a friend of his had died and he just had to accept it. I asked who, and he said I didn’t know him, it didn’t matter.’
‘He said you didn’t know him ?’
She shook her head. ‘But I don’t think he meant that, meant it was a man.’
It occurred to Hardy that, impossible as it might seem, Andy Fowler could be gay. In San Francisco, you never knew. ‘But if that’s what he said…?’
‘No. There was a pause before he said that. Something, anyway. Then he patted my hand and thanked me for being concerned, but that he could work all this out himself, he was a big boy.’
The food came, the wine ritual. Hardy dipped some fresh bread in a little bowl of olive oil on the table. Jane cut into her calzone and let the steam escape.
‘What I think,’ she said, ‘is it
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