Page 54 of Pro Bono

“Then it’s eleven minutes. I’d better hang up and straighten out the living room. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

He thought about what he was doing and felt dread. Tina was not a stupid woman. She would already sense that he was after something. He hoped she wouldn’t be unpleasant about it and humiliate him. When he reached Tim and Tina’s house, it looked about the same as it always had, except that the yellow paint job was fresh. He pulled over in front of the house, walked to the front door, and rang the bell.

A moment later Tina opened the door. He had forgotten how pretty she was. She was wearing her black hair long and straight now, and she had more makeup on. She wore a skirt that was short and stylish, and high heels. “Hi, Ron,” she said, and leaned out to give him a peck on thecheek. “Come on in. I just got home from work myself. Can I get you something to drink?”

“That sounds good,” he said. “Just a glass of water for me.”

She pivoted and headed for the kitchen and brought out a bottle of sparkling water and a glass. “Ice?”

“No, thanks,” he said. She gave him the water.

“What made you think of us?” she asked.

“I think about you and Richard fairly often. We used to love having you three come for get-togethers around holidays, but as the kids grow older, they get to be hard to pin down. When they’re little, you don’t have to check their availability. When they’re older, they’d rather be with their friends. And girls are the worst. They grow up faster. We finally got out of the habit of doing those dinners and things—gave up, really. We should start them up again.”

“It might be fun. Holidays aren’t only for kids. Nice to see you. But what happened to your face? You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

“I wouldn’t call it that. Some young guys saw me going into work before dawn, and I guess they thought they’d end their night out by taking my wallet to cover their expenses. Fortunately, they’d spent their money on drinks. You, on the other hand, look terrific,” he said. “You said you just got home from work. Where do you work?”

“Thronebridge Fashions at Costa Mesa.”

“Wonderful,” he said. “Very high-end.” He paused. “You remember, when I talked to you after the funeral, I asked you to get in touch with me if you or Richard needed anything. When you didn’t get in touch, I didn’t want to butt in, but I hoped it meant you were doing okay. I’m glad to see you’ve got a good job and you’re thriving, but the invitation still holds. Things come up, and we all sometimes find hard things are easier if we face them as a family.”

“We’re fine, at least for the moment,” she said. “How are Francesca and the kids?”

“Fine. For the moment, anyway.” he said. “Knock on wood.” He knocked on the coffee table. “The girls are lucky. They look like Fran.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to see them. Do you have pictures of them on your phone?”

“I know I should, but I’m not good about taking them. I’ll send some recent ones when I get home.” He sat staring at her sadly. “You know, I can’t drive down here without thinking of you and Tim. I’m sure he told you how close he and I were growing up. In later years, we couldn’t see each other as much as we liked, but when I look back on my life, he’s still one of the most important people. I think about you both a lot. I found myself having to wipe tears out of my eyes today.”

“I’d give a lot if Tim could hear that,” she said.

“You know, I hesitate to even say this, but I wonder if you would do me a favor.”

“What is it?” her voice was wary.

“I wondered if you could spare a keepsake, a token to remember him by.”

“What sort of thing were you thinking?”

“He and I always used to kid each other, and we went back and forth all the time about his guns. I used to ask him questions about why he needed a hundred of them, and if he gave them all names, whether he picked them to go with different outfits, formal and casual, and so on. He would tell me what a bad citizen I was to not exercise my Second Amendment rights, and then switched to how I was so uncoordinated it was probably just as well.”

“That’s what you came for? You want one of Tim’s guns?”

“It isn’t what I came for,” he said. “I came to see you and check how you and Richard were doing. If I was out of line asking, I’m really sorry. Please, just forget it.”

“No,” she said. “I’m actually relieved it was just that. Here, I’ve got them locked up in his gun safe where he left them. After he died and money got tight, I tried to sell them all at once to a dealer or another collector, but that didn’t work, and selling one at a time was too complicated, with the laws and everything. Any one in particular?”

“No. Any one.”

“Wait. I have to do the combination and all that.” She went up the stairs, then came back down a few minutes later carrying a nickel-plated revolver and a box of ammunition. “I’m pretty sure these go together because he kept them on the same shelf.” She set them on the coffee table.

He looked at them, and then looked up at her, and he could see she was gazing at him with something less than affection. “Good enough?”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s very kind of you. I’ll think of both of you whenever I look at it.”

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