realized we were now alone.
“Quitting time?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Though Danny had been married almost twenty years now, he and his wife still coochie-cooed like newlyweds. At times I found their giddy-gooey-bliss act irritating as hell. Mostly I envied them.
“Quitting time.” Sheepish grin. Or horny. Or hungry. “Aggie’s making Salisbury steak.”
Danny sealed the mushroom-duck thing inside a baggy. Back in his office, he locked it in a desk drawer.
“Tomorrow we can pick Craig’s brain.” Craig Brooks was one of the three CIL dentists.
After removing our lab coats we headed out, Danny toward beef and gravy in Waipio, I toward gloom in Lanikai Beach.
Katy was on a lounge chair by the pool. I took a moment to observe her through the sliding glass door.
Katy wasn’t listening to her iPod, talking on her cell phone, surfing or blogging with her laptop. No book or magazine lay in her lap. Dressed in the same tank and drawstring pants she’d worn the night before, she simply sat staring out to sea.
In a word, she looked miserable.
Again I was swept by a feeling of helplessness. I knew only time would ease my daughter’s pain, and that a week had yet to pass since news of Coop’s death. I also knew the delivery of that news had been cold and impersonal.
Still.
Steeling myself, I exited to the lanai.
“How you doing, tough stuff?” A childhood endearment.
“Ready for the play-offs.” Flat.
“Where did you go today?” Dropping into the chair beside Katy’s.
“Nowhere.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Got any thoughts on dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat.”
“No I don’t.”
Score one for Katy.
“I’m sure there’s something in the kitchen that I could throw together. Danny bought out the market.”
“Whatever.”
“Or I could drive into Kailua for more sushi.”
“Look, Mom. I know you mean well. But the thought of food revolts me right now.”
You have to eat. I didn’t say it.
“Anything I can do to perk you up? A little Groucho?” I raised my brows and flicked an imaginary cigar.
“Just let me be.”
“I feel so bad.”
“Not bad enough to stay home.”
It felt like a slap. My expression must have said so.
“I’m sorry.” Katy’s hand fluttered to her mouth, froze, as though uncertain of the purpose of its trip. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I know.”
“It’s just . . .” Her fingers curled. “I feel such rage and there’s nowhere to point it.” Her fist pounded one knee. “At dumb-ass Coop for going to Afghanistan? At the Taliban for gunning him down? At God for letting it happen? At myself for giving a shit?”
Katy swiveled toward me. Though dry-eyed, her face was pallid and tight.
“I know anger and self-pity are pointless and counterproductive and self-destructive and blah blah blah. And I’m really trying to pull out of my funk. I am. It’s just that, right now, life sucks.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Have you ever had someone just blasted off the face of the earth? Someone you really cared about?”
I had. My best friend, Gabby. Cops I’d worked with and cared about. Eddie Rinaldi in Charlotte. Ryan’s partner, Jean Bertrand. I didn’t say it.
“Look, Mom. I know you’ve come here to do a job. And I know Coop’s death is not your fault. But you’re gone all day, then you get back all sunshine and Hallmark compassion.” She threw up both hands. “I don’t know. You’re in the zone so you take the hit.”
“I’ve taken worse.”
Wan smile.
Turning from me, Katy fidgeted with the tie at her waist, finger twisting and retwisting the string.
Overhead, palm fronds clicked in the breeze. Down at the shore, gulls cawed.
Katy was right. I’d dragged her thousands of miles, then dumped her in a place she knew nothing about. Yes, she was twenty-four, a big girl. But right now she needed me.
The familiar old dilemma knotted my gut. How to balance motherhood and job?
My mind
“Quitting time?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Though Danny had been married almost twenty years now, he and his wife still coochie-cooed like newlyweds. At times I found their giddy-gooey-bliss act irritating as hell. Mostly I envied them.
“Quitting time.” Sheepish grin. Or horny. Or hungry. “Aggie’s making Salisbury steak.”
Danny sealed the mushroom-duck thing inside a baggy. Back in his office, he locked it in a desk drawer.
“Tomorrow we can pick Craig’s brain.” Craig Brooks was one of the three CIL dentists.
After removing our lab coats we headed out, Danny toward beef and gravy in Waipio, I toward gloom in Lanikai Beach.
Katy was on a lounge chair by the pool. I took a moment to observe her through the sliding glass door.
Katy wasn’t listening to her iPod, talking on her cell phone, surfing or blogging with her laptop. No book or magazine lay in her lap. Dressed in the same tank and drawstring pants she’d worn the night before, she simply sat staring out to sea.
In a word, she looked miserable.
Again I was swept by a feeling of helplessness. I knew only time would ease my daughter’s pain, and that a week had yet to pass since news of Coop’s death. I also knew the delivery of that news had been cold and impersonal.
Still.
Steeling myself, I exited to the lanai.
“How you doing, tough stuff?” A childhood endearment.
“Ready for the play-offs.” Flat.
“Where did you go today?” Dropping into the chair beside Katy’s.
“Nowhere.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Got any thoughts on dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat.”
“No I don’t.”
Score one for Katy.
“I’m sure there’s something in the kitchen that I could throw together. Danny bought out the market.”
“Whatever.”
“Or I could drive into Kailua for more sushi.”
“Look, Mom. I know you mean well. But the thought of food revolts me right now.”
You have to eat. I didn’t say it.
“Anything I can do to perk you up? A little Groucho?” I raised my brows and flicked an imaginary cigar.
“Just let me be.”
“I feel so bad.”
“Not bad enough to stay home.”
It felt like a slap. My expression must have said so.
“I’m sorry.” Katy’s hand fluttered to her mouth, froze, as though uncertain of the purpose of its trip. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I know.”
“It’s just . . .” Her fingers curled. “I feel such rage and there’s nowhere to point it.” Her fist pounded one knee. “At dumb-ass Coop for going to Afghanistan? At the Taliban for gunning him down? At God for letting it happen? At myself for giving a shit?”
Katy swiveled toward me. Though dry-eyed, her face was pallid and tight.
“I know anger and self-pity are pointless and counterproductive and self-destructive and blah blah blah. And I’m really trying to pull out of my funk. I am. It’s just that, right now, life sucks.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Have you ever had someone just blasted off the face of the earth? Someone you really cared about?”
I had. My best friend, Gabby. Cops I’d worked with and cared about. Eddie Rinaldi in Charlotte. Ryan’s partner, Jean Bertrand. I didn’t say it.
“Look, Mom. I know you’ve come here to do a job. And I know Coop’s death is not your fault. But you’re gone all day, then you get back all sunshine and Hallmark compassion.” She threw up both hands. “I don’t know. You’re in the zone so you take the hit.”
“I’ve taken worse.”
Wan smile.
Turning from me, Katy fidgeted with the tie at her waist, finger twisting and retwisting the string.
Overhead, palm fronds clicked in the breeze. Down at the shore, gulls cawed.
Katy was right. I’d dragged her thousands of miles, then dumped her in a place she knew nothing about. Yes, she was twenty-four, a big girl. But right now she needed me.
The familiar old dilemma knotted my gut. How to balance motherhood and job?
My mind
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