Page 41 of Take the Fall
And the call had come to David. Because the line to me had been dead so long that even this got handed off.
“You don’t get to do this,” I said. It came out small and I hated it. “Come into my kitchen and make me scared for him.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” No apology in it at all. “Once he’s in the ground it’s just regret, and regret sits there. Fear moves a man. That’s why I came.”
“And if I don’t move.”
“Then you stand at the grave and do the math.” He said it without heat, which was the worst way he could have said it. “Every year you had. Every one you spent being right instead of being there. I’ve done that math on my own father. It doesn’t come out clean for anybody. I’m offering you a smaller number. Take it or don’t.”
I put my hand over my mouth and held it there.
David stood. He did it without dragging it out.
“Come to Sunday dinner,” he said. “You’ll say no. That’s fine. Caroline’s, your aunt, not the firm, not your father. He won’t be there if you don’t want him there, I’ll see to it.” He buttoned the coat he’d never taken off. “She still makes the risotto. The one you used to beg for and then pretend to be too cool for at fourteen.” A breath. “No conditions. It’s been on the table five years. It’s still there.”
He came around the table. He put his hand on my shoulder.
Warm. Heavy. Steady.
My father has never once in my life put a hand on my shoulder.
“Take care of yourself, Ry,” David said, low, just to me. “You look better than I’ve seen you in years. You could be even better still.”
I didn’t trust my voice.
He went to the door. Stopped with his hand on it, not turning.
“If you ever need anything,” he said. “Me. Not the firm. Not your father. You’ve got the number.”
The door clicked shut.
I sat there.
The radiator ticked. A television murmured in an apartment nearby. Rain had started on the window over the sink, light, just beginning.
Two procedures. Cardiac. The kind they don’t announce.
I got up. I crossed to the counter. I put both hands on the edge and looked at the dark glass.
I didn’t want to feel anything.
The key in the lock.
Luke came in with a paper bag in each hand. The rain had got the shoulders of his coat. He stopped just inside the door and looked at me, and read the whole room in one pass.
He didn’t ask. He set the bags down.
“He’s gone,” I said.
“I know.” He didn’t come closer and he didn’t move off. “I came up the back stairs. I heard most of it through the door before I worked out it wasn’t a phone call.” A beat. “I stood on the landing. Didn’t want to walk into the middle of it. I heard the procedures part. Heard him tell you to take care of yourself.”
“You stood on the landing.”
“With two bags of dumplings. Trying to decide if you needed me in or out.” He set his keys down. “Still deciding. Tell me which.”
I opened my mouth and nothing came.
He came in. He didn’t crowd me. He pulled out the far chair, put his forearms on the table, and waited.
