Page 91 of We Could Be So Good
That room at the end of the hall has to be the entire reason Nick chose this apartment instead of a more affordable one-bedroom, or an even more practical room in a boardinghouse. He hadn’t meant to use it as a study or whatever it is people do with spare rooms. When Andy moved in, it was already made up as a guest room, its little bed with its cheerful yellow sheets unslept in, its closet empty, the bookcase bare except for a collection of comic books.
The room has always been meant for Sal.
Of course. Of course Nick keeps a bed for the nephew who’s being raised by a man Nick doesn’t trust. He’s kept the room ready and waiting in case his nephew needs a refuge. It’s just like Nick, and it’s equally like Nick never to mention this to Andy. God forbid he mention his family, not that Andy can blame him, because he can hardly think about Nick’s brother without wanting to kick the wall.
But the fact that there’s a room for Sal means that there can’t be room for Andy. Sal will be Nick’s priority, and rightly so. Andy needs to leave. He doesn’t know what this means, other than that this isn’t Andy’s home and it never could have been. Even so, Nick is—Andy’s thoughts stutter over how to complete that sentence. Nick ishis, and Andy will make sure he’s safe.
He leaves a note for Nick on the kitchen table, then takes another sheet of paper and writes a note asking Linda to get thesuitcase from under Nick’s bed and store it in her apartment. This second note he folds up small. Next door, he kisses Linda’s hand (she rolls her eyes) and presses the note into her palm. “We’ll meet you at the pizzeria in ten minutes, darling.”
This is probably how spies feel. Andy is glad he isn’t a spy. His heart is pounding and all he can hope is that he’s done a good enough job keeping Nick safe.
***
When they get back from the pizzeria, having put away an entire pie and a half between them and carrying home the remaining slices for Nick, the apartment is still empty. It’s only two o’clock. Andy calls theChronicle, but Nick still isn’t there.
“You don’t have to babysit me.” Sal isn’t any less sullen after lunch.
“Well, I’m not getting arrested for contributing to the corruption of a minor by leaving you unattended,” Andy says.
“I don’t think that’s a real offense.”
“Do you think that’ll stop your father’s friends from arresting me for it?” Andy asks, slightly frantic.
Sal shrugs, conceding the point. This does not make Andy feel any better. Every time he hears the building door open below, he’s convinced it’s the police. He is not cut out for this.
Distantly, he hears the building door open again. Andy glances warily at Sal. Since arriving, Sal’s started to look progressively wearier, a gray semicircle appearing under his unbruised eye, a brittleness to his surly teenage bravado. Andy wishes he knew what to say or do.
There are footsteps on the stairs, close by, as if they’re heading here. Andy holds his breath, and then hears the key in the lock.
About a dozen emotions flicker across Nick’s face in quick succession as he opens the door. “I’m glad you came,” he tells Sal.
And apparently those are the magic words, because Sal’s lower lip quivers and the next moment he’s in Nick’s arms doing a version of Definitely Not Crying that Andy knows all too well.
Andy probably shouldn’t be here, but he can’t just leave without explaining to Nick where he’s going, or in fact confirming that heisgoing, because that aspect of the problem may not even have occurred to Nick yet.
“Did you have anything to eat?” Nick asks.
“Andy and his girlfriend took me out for pizza,” Sal says.
Nick gives Andy a look.
“I found Sal on the stoop when I was stopping by to say hello to Linda,” Andy says, hoping he sounds smoother than he feels. “And now I probably ought to be going.”
“Sal, do me a favor and scram for two minutes. Your room’s at the end of the hall.”
They wait until Sal has shut the bedroom door.
“I had to come up with a story on the spot,” Andy whispers. “I changed the sheets and got rid of all my stuff. Look, I’d better go. I’m sorry for everything before. I was out of line.”
Nick gives him a funny look. “I understand. You know I do, right? And what do you mean you have to go?”
“I can’tstay,” Andy says, gesturing down the hall.
“Oh. Right.” Andy can see the moment reality catches up with Nick and something hard and determined flickers over his face. “Thanks for looking after Sal and, uh, ridding the apartment of sexual deviance. Hey, did that cop across the street see Sal?”
“No, he wasn’t there when I got home.”
“He’s not down there now, either. Huh. Anyway, where will you go?”
