Page 60 of Twice
“What’d he do?”
“Cheated on roulette. Stole two million.”
Even as LaPorta said the words, he realized he was trying to impress her.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Just be careful, Vince. You’re not a real cop, remember.”
And there it was. The stinging comment he could always count on.
“Yeah, Barbara. You keep reminding me.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, Barbara.”
“Are you carrying a gun?”
“No, Barbara.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Fine.”
“I’m looking out for you, Vince. So you don’t get hurt.”
“I don’t need you to look out for me.”
“Right. Because you’re not a cop.”
“OK. Good talk.”
“Look, I’m not trying to—”
“It’s fine. Gotta go. Gotta do some not-a-cop business.”
He caught Sampson looking at him. His wife wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t technically a law enforcement officer. And Bahamian law forbade private gun ownership.
But the bigger truth was that his relationship with Barbara, a second marriage for both of them, was a series of combustible confrontations like these, followed by apologies, then a period of calm, then confrontations again. It was one reason she stayed in Miami when he took this job. They saw each other as often as his work would allow, and for now that seemed satisfactory.
LaPorta hadn’t really thought about the meagerness of“satisfactory” until Alfie and all his true love talk. It made him reflect on the choices in his own love life and their hollow results. Working in the islands, LaPorta often saw couples arm in arm, spontaneously kissing or groping one another—on the beach, on the street, in the restaurants. It made him envious. He’d had that once with Barbara. At the beginning, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But years passed. They started arguing over money and how much time she spent with her mother. Everything cooled. What was it they said about passion and rocket fuel? They both burn fast?
A tourist bus pulled alongside the police car, and the smell of diesel was pungent. LaPorta rolled up the window and adjusted the air-conditioning. Then he reached into his briefcase and took out Alfie’s notebook. He tilted it on its side and noticed something odd. A single page had been folded back. It was fairly near the end, which felt like more than a coincidence.
What are you up to, Alfie?
LaPorta flipped to that page and began to read.
The Composition Book
Things my mother said she loved about me:
“Your shyness when you meet new people.”
Now, Boss, comes the part that you might find hardest to believe.
