Page 80 of The Happy Month
“You were better friends with her than you told me, weren’t you?”
“My sister didn’t know. I don’t want her to think badly of me.”
Interesting dynamic, I thought. She was a doctor but her sister’s opinion of her mattered enough for her to lie.
“We’ll need you to do a deposition. This information could help Larry Wilkes get a new trial.”
She didn’t want to, but she said, “Yes, of course.”
As soon as we hung up, I took a bite of my burrito, then called The Freedom Agenda.
“Karen, it’s Dom,” I said, through a mouthful of food.
“How’s your vacation?”
“Hot.”
“You want Lydia?”
“Please.”
She put me on hold, and I managed to swallow before Lydia came on the line. I explained that we could prove that Sammy Blanchard phoned in the tip about the fake engagement.
“That’s great. That gives us enough to petition the court.”
“Is that what you’ve been ruminating about?”
“No. I’m considering going in a different direction.”
That was surprising.
“You want to elaborate?”’
“No. I’ll let you know when I decide. We’ll talk when you get back.”
Mysterious. Annoyingly so.
After we hung up, I paid more attention to my lunch while watching Ronnie through the window. He was on his cellular. I realized that was something we had in common. We liked to work. Most of the time, I didn’t think we hadmuch in common and I worried about that. Couples were supposed to have things in common.
Then I wondered, was that part of why Ronnie wanted me to work for Lydia? Had he sensed I’d get addicted to my work the way he was to his? It’s hard to get addicted to being a bartender—unless you’re an alcoholic—so I could see why he’d want to edge me in a different direction. A more challenging one.
I stopped pondering and called the Markers again. The answering machine picked up. I waited for the message to end, just to give them a chance to pick up, and then I hung up. I knew that would cause the machine to record a hang up. I’d probably caused a lot of those in the last few days. Then I was at loose ends. We’d done everything I needed to do over this way and a big part of me was ready to go home.
Ronnie came back inside. “Okay. It’s ridiculously hot out there. Even with the mister.”
We turned the AC up, closed the drapes, and spent the afternoon in bed. Around dinner time, we found a Chinese restaurant and then went to have a cocktail at Streetbar, which was crowded even on a Thursday night.
“We should buy a place over here,” Ronnie said.
“I’m not sure I want to spend much time here. I’m not that enamored of melting parking lots.”
Seriously, we’d stopped at Gelson’s to pick up some sodas and snacks, and when I got out of the car my foot sank a good quarter inch into the blacktop.
“Not to live in. To rent.” He had a look on his face I’d seen before. He was planning his takeover of the world. “Gay men aren’t dying as much. These new meds are working. That means more of them are going to live long enough to retire.” He opened up his hands and said, “And this is where they’ll retire too.”
I glanced around the bar and saw that the average age was nearly a decade older than I was. He might have a point.
“What are prices like?” I asked.
