Wild Cards [08] One-Eyed Jacks by George R.R. Martin

to tear you apart. Are you sure you're ready for that?"
    "It's what I want."
    "Give it one more week. We need to get out a little, get you back into the world. If you still want to do it next week, then we'll try it."
    "I guess that's what I'm saying."
    "I think I would like to do that," Veronica said. She dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. They both pretended not to see the tears. "What do I tell Ichiko?"
    "I don't know. What do you think?"
    "You're going into counselor mode again." Hannah shrugged.
    "I guess I tell her I'm moving out. That I'm through. I think she's probably figured that out already."
    In fact Ichiko had. "I hope you will be very happy," she said. She hugged Veronica. "I can see already that you are. Here's a little money to make things easier." The amount on the check was larger than Veronica had any reason to expect. "Your trust fund, plus a little extra from me."
    "I don't know...."
    "Take it," Ichiko said. "Times are changing. I don't feel so good about this business, the way I used to. I look around, I see all this hatred. They hate jokers and aces. When I first came to this country, they hated me for being Japanese. Fortunato's father had to hide us during the Pacific War so they wouldn't put us into camps. People afraid of each other, hurting each other. My geishas don't help that anymore. When a man uses a woman, it doesn't make him a better man. Any more than having black people for slaves made white people better. In the end they only come to hate each other."
    "What are you saying? Are you going to close down the business?"
    Ichiko shrugged. "It's something I think about, more and more. There is all this pressure on me, these gangsters and big-money men wanting to take over the business. If I close down, they will go away and leave me alone. I have enough money. Who cares about money anyway?" She pushed the check toward Veronica again, and this time Veronica took it. "You go and be happy and find love where you can."
    Veronica went upstairs and finished packing. Eventually she knew she couldn't put it off any longer and knocked on the door of her mother's room.
    That afternoon they went to a movie together. They held hands like teenagers. At dinner afterward, over Chinese food, Hannah said, "I think you should bring some of your things over. Clothes and things. You know. And your cat."
    "You mean move in."
    Miranda had heard most of it from Ichiko, and what she hadn't heard she'd figured out for herself. She took Veronica's hands and held them both for a long time without saying anything. Finally she said, "You know I don't care that you're in love with a woman and not a man. You know I'm happy you're giving up ... the Life. I never wanted that for you in the first place." She sighed. "Just be careful, darling, please. You've only known this woman for what, not even two weeks?"
    Veronica pulled her hands away and stood up. "Mother, for God's sake."
    "I'm not trying to rain on your parade-"
    "Yes, you are. That's exactly what you're trying to do."
    "I'm just saying you don't know her very well. I want this to work out for you, really I do, but it may not, and-"
    "Save it," Veronica said. "I don't want to hear it. Just once, be happy that I'm happy. And if you can't, then keep your mouth shut about it." She walked out and slammed the door and took her things down to the cab where Hannah waited.
    On the ride home, with Liz huddled nervously on her lap, Veronica started to shake.
    "Are you okay?" Hannah asked her. "Did you get your methadone today?"
    "I took it," Veronica said. "It's not that." Though the symptoms were much the same. She felt clammy and her bowels were knotted up. "I'm scared, that's all."
    Hannah put her arms around her. "Scared? What are you afraid of?"
    "I have my whole life in front of me. It's just out there, waiting. I don't know what to do with it."
    "You live it," Hannah said. "That's all. One day at a time."
    The next afternoon they walked down Fifth Avenue, looking in the