an ordinary wood and composition construct like the others. It looked like oak, but when I rapped my knuckles against it, I realized it was steel, fit snugly into its frame with no airspace around it. It must be Rod’s office and he must be very paranoid about it.
I commented on it as I handed Gayle her files and sat down beside her.
“The kids call it the fort,” she said. “We’ve been in this house six years and I’ve only been inside twice, when he was having stuff moved in. He has a heavy-duty safe in there that would pass muster in a bank. He says it’s because he has to handle classified materials that have to be secured to Government specifications. He won’t discuss it, and I only know the safe exists because I was here when it was delivered.”
That explained his secretiveness, but not his overall behavior. Still, I defended him again. “I used to have that kind of clearance. He has no choice, and believe me, the less you know about that room, the better.” That was what I said, but privately, I thought, why the hell doesn’t he find a secure place to work outside the house? He should be shielding Gayle and the kids from that stuff. The way I’ve always done.
I’d tried to be subtle, but Gayle saw through it easily. She put her hand on my cheek. “You really are a good friend, Dylan. I don’t want to lose that.”
With that, the front door burst open and two blonde-haired, nine-year-old whirlwinds exploded into the room. She hugged her boys and looked back at me. “Go home.”
9.
Ilene wasn’t home when I got there. She hadn’t called, either.
Most days, I would have been glad she was enjoying herself. She’d worked hard to get where she was. Like me, she’d majored in science in college, but decided that spending her life in a laboratory wasn’t for her. She’d taken the long route through graduate school while Gregg and Marc were growing up. With both of them finally away at college, she dived into her dissertation in pharmacology. Now she was a highly-paid hired gun, much in demand by law firms and drug companies.
She spent her days earning big fees for attorneys with huge egos, working and traveling with powerful men used to getting what they wanted. At first, I’d worried that one of the things they wanted might be Ilene, but she always came home happy to see me, and that was all I needed to know.
Then why was I pouring myself a drink, wondering how many were being poured for her at Monahan’s, and by whom? Why pick now to feel anxious and jealous? Because Gayle had shown me how easily and unexpectedly people can slip?
Feeling the alcohol-generated warmth flow toward my stomach, I suddenly had an urgent need for Ilene’s support and approval. I felt contrite over letting my fear that she’d laugh at me or think I was losing my mind stop me from sharing the last three days with her, though I’d nearly poured my heart out to Gayle.
On the rare occasions when I drank, I always stopped at one, but that evening I carried a second greyhound into our family room and sat quietly in the slowly darkening space. I must have dozed. When the phone rang, the now-empty glass was in my lap, calmly resting in a cold pool of melting ice.
“Shit!” I lunged for the phone, scattering ice chips across the coffee table. “Hello?” I sounded awful, even to me.
“Dylan, you’re home! Would you come get me, please?”
I was so disoriented, it took me a second to realize it was a slightly slurred version of Ilene I was hearing. “Sure. You still at Monahan’s?”
“Yeah, I drank too much to drive home, and there are two or three guys awfully eager to share a cab with me. Please rescue me.”
I was elated, my mood swing confirming how shaky I was. But damn, I’d had most of two drinks, too. What time was it? 10:45 ! My head ached, but I hadn’t drunk any alcohol in three hours.
“Okay, Hon, be there
I commented on it as I handed Gayle her files and sat down beside her.
“The kids call it the fort,” she said. “We’ve been in this house six years and I’ve only been inside twice, when he was having stuff moved in. He has a heavy-duty safe in there that would pass muster in a bank. He says it’s because he has to handle classified materials that have to be secured to Government specifications. He won’t discuss it, and I only know the safe exists because I was here when it was delivered.”
That explained his secretiveness, but not his overall behavior. Still, I defended him again. “I used to have that kind of clearance. He has no choice, and believe me, the less you know about that room, the better.” That was what I said, but privately, I thought, why the hell doesn’t he find a secure place to work outside the house? He should be shielding Gayle and the kids from that stuff. The way I’ve always done.
I’d tried to be subtle, but Gayle saw through it easily. She put her hand on my cheek. “You really are a good friend, Dylan. I don’t want to lose that.”
With that, the front door burst open and two blonde-haired, nine-year-old whirlwinds exploded into the room. She hugged her boys and looked back at me. “Go home.”
9.
Ilene wasn’t home when I got there. She hadn’t called, either.
Most days, I would have been glad she was enjoying herself. She’d worked hard to get where she was. Like me, she’d majored in science in college, but decided that spending her life in a laboratory wasn’t for her. She’d taken the long route through graduate school while Gregg and Marc were growing up. With both of them finally away at college, she dived into her dissertation in pharmacology. Now she was a highly-paid hired gun, much in demand by law firms and drug companies.
She spent her days earning big fees for attorneys with huge egos, working and traveling with powerful men used to getting what they wanted. At first, I’d worried that one of the things they wanted might be Ilene, but she always came home happy to see me, and that was all I needed to know.
Then why was I pouring myself a drink, wondering how many were being poured for her at Monahan’s, and by whom? Why pick now to feel anxious and jealous? Because Gayle had shown me how easily and unexpectedly people can slip?
Feeling the alcohol-generated warmth flow toward my stomach, I suddenly had an urgent need for Ilene’s support and approval. I felt contrite over letting my fear that she’d laugh at me or think I was losing my mind stop me from sharing the last three days with her, though I’d nearly poured my heart out to Gayle.
On the rare occasions when I drank, I always stopped at one, but that evening I carried a second greyhound into our family room and sat quietly in the slowly darkening space. I must have dozed. When the phone rang, the now-empty glass was in my lap, calmly resting in a cold pool of melting ice.
“Shit!” I lunged for the phone, scattering ice chips across the coffee table. “Hello?” I sounded awful, even to me.
“Dylan, you’re home! Would you come get me, please?”
I was so disoriented, it took me a second to realize it was a slightly slurred version of Ilene I was hearing. “Sure. You still at Monahan’s?”
“Yeah, I drank too much to drive home, and there are two or three guys awfully eager to share a cab with me. Please rescue me.”
I was elated, my mood swing confirming how shaky I was. But damn, I’d had most of two drinks, too. What time was it? 10:45 ! My head ached, but I hadn’t drunk any alcohol in three hours.
“Okay, Hon, be there
Similar Books
