My Brother's Keeper by Keith Gilman Page A

me since Dad died and I don’t think I ever really appreciated it. I never understood what kind of responsibility that took. And when I got old enough not to need him anymore, the only thing I could think of was getting away. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest.
    â€˜I don’t know, Lou. I wanted to be Little Miss Independent when I should have been thinking of him, trying to be the kind of sister to him that he deserved. I never thought maybe he needed me even more than I needed him.’
    Lou took Franny by the arm and led her to the chair by the desk. It had deep worn cushions and the fabric on the arms was frayed and torn. The chair had been in his mother’s house, in the front room facing the window. Lou had often seen his mother sitting in that chair, looking out the window, waiting for his father to come home from work, the way the wife of any policeman would.
    Lou could still smell his mother on that chair: the lanolin and lilac, the moisturizer she would rub into her hands and elbows, the smell of soap. He couldn’t bear to throw it out despite its condition, so he moved it into his office where it made his clients feel at home. He’d sit in it himself, if Joey didn’t get to it first and fall asleep with his head back and his mouth open, a cup of coffee in one hand and a smoldering cigarette in the other. One of these days he’d set himself on fire.
    Joey had been standing at the sideboard, fixing himself a cup of coffee, trying to remain inconspicuous while Lou talked to Franny. Joey put his nose to a carton of cream from the refrigerator under the table and then put it back without using it. Lou let his hand fall on Joey’s shoulder and steered him toward the door, keeping his voice low.
    â€˜Listen, Joey. Head up to Jimmy Patterson’s place and tell Jimmy that Franny is here with me. Take him out to lunch. Buy him a few drinks. Find out what you can but don’t push too hard. He’s probably upset.’
    â€˜Where do I take him?’
    â€˜Try Fortunato’s. Show him your impression of Mitch. You know, the one when he just made lieutenant and he jumps out of his car while it’s still in gear and he ends up chasing it down the road. Jimmy’ll love it. He hates Mitch.’
    â€˜Hate is a strong word, Lou. I mean, my ex-wife hates me but I don’t go around advertising it.’
    â€˜You were having a fling with a stripper. What was her name?’
    â€˜Candy Bell.’
    â€˜Yeah, right. I don’t blame her for hating you.’
    â€˜And what’s Jimmy’s problem with Mitch?’
    â€˜Jimmy thinks Mitch is a pompous, self-important, old blow-hard of a cop.’
    â€˜That’s it?’
    â€˜That’s it.’
    â€˜It’s a little early in the day for drinks, Lou. What if Jimmy doesn’t want to go?’
    â€˜Insist. Now get going.’

FIVE
    L ou set two cups of steaming coffee on a short table in front of Franny. Her smile was faint, thin ridges framing her mouth, her teeth hidden behind lips that seemed to turn colorless and twisted unconsciously as if she’d bitten into something rotten. He brought over the cream and sugar and rolled his chair out from behind his desk. He sat in front of her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Franny’s eyes never left the floor.
    â€˜Franny, if this is just a lover’s quarrel and there’s nothing more to it, I’ll butt out. You guys haven’t been married that long and I know it takes a while to iron things out. But if it’s more than that, I should know.’
    â€˜It’s a second marriage for both of us, Lou, and we’re both carrying around a lot of baggage.’
    â€˜What kind of baggage are we talking about?’
    â€˜Oh, come on, Lou.’ Her body jerked to life as if an electrical current had passed through it. ‘I’m sure you know most of it. I mean, you were a cop in this town for