Bright Lights, Big Christmas(72)

“George. One minute he was here, in that chair you’re sitting in now, making outrageous jokes about something, then the next minute, he said he had a crushing headache and a minute after that he was gone. A cerebral hemorrhage. He was forty-two.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” Kerry said.

“I didn’t know who I was without George. Without him goading me, bullying me, encouraging me. I couldn’t paint. Couldn’t stand to be here … without him. I was lost. I asked the building superintendent to clean out that space where I live now, and I locked this door. Today was the first time in … I don’t know how many years since I was here last.”

“I wish I had known that,” Kerry said. “I had no idea being in this apartment would be so painful for you. But you were so sick, are still so sick … I was afraid you’d die down there, alone in that freezing cubbyhole, and I just couldn’t let that happen.”

“Are you in the habit of saving people’s lives, even if they don’t want them saved?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you wanted to die?”

“Doesn’t everyone, after they reach a certain age, think they want to die at some point in their life?”

Kerry stayed quiet.

“I suppose I didn’t want to die,” Heinz confided. “But after I got sick, I couldn’t really think of any particular reason to keep living.”

“You mentioned family a moment ago. Don’t you have any family?”

“Not in a long time. My people were very conservative, very religious. I think they always suspected what I was and they were deeply ashamed of me. My parents are long dead. I had two brothers, both older than me, who let me know they didn’t approve of my lifestyle. They said I was a disgrace to the family name. My little sister Geneva, bless her, was always my champion. She passed shortly after my parents.”

Kerry got up and looked at the large landscape painting nearest her. “Is that why you sign your paintings with the tree icon? Schoenbaum, beautiful tree?”

“You figured that out, did you?”

“With help from Google,” she admitted. “Seriously, Heinz, if being here really is unbearable for you, maybe we can figure out someplace else for you to convalesce. I mean, you own this whole building, so forgive me but I can’t think that money is an issue. Maybe there’s another apartment available?”

He continued to stroke the top of Queenie’s head. The setter’s muzzle rested on his leg and her eyes were closed. She was asleep, her body shuddering with every snore.

“I think…” he said slowly. “I think it will be all right. Somehow, the painful memories, most of them, have been banished. Now I have only one serious problem.”

“What’s that?” She jumped up and went to his side. “Is the fever back?”

“No. I’m feeling slightly better. But how do I manage to get out of this chair and back to bed without disturbing our girl here?” He gazed down at the slumbering dog.

“Queenie!” Kerry said. The dog raised her head. “Come!” She took a cushion from the sofa and placed it on the floor. “Here.”

The dog jumped down and splayed out on the cushion and almost instantaneously went back to sleep.

“Marvelous,” Heinz said, rising slowly from his seat. “If only I could fall asleep that quickly. We had a dog, George and I. A beautiful wirehaired dachshund named Pablito. He was such a good boy.”

The old man’s eyes glistened. “I haven’t thought of Pablito in years and years. I painted him several times. One of those canvases must still be around here.”

He clutched the back of the sofa with both hands. “Kerry?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for caring for me. And about me.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“I’m going to sleep now. I’m sure while you were pillaging my home, you found the linen closet? With sheets and blankets and pillows?”

“I did.”

“But I’ll bet you didn’t find the Murphy bed in the studio, did you?”

“No. I was planning on sleeping on the sofa out here.”

“The Murphy bed should be quite comfortable. Good night.”





chapter 51





The shock of chilly air that met Kerry as she left Heinz’s building the next morning felt like a slap in the face. It was bitterly cold and snowflakes swirled around in the gray skies. The sidewalks were still icy, and crowded with people out doing last-minute shopping and errands, so she led Queenie carefully but quickly through the park for her morning bathroom break.

All signs of the Tolliver Family Christmas tree stand were gone. She felt a sharp pang of sadness, thinking of Spammy’s fate, but a moment later, Queenie was barking and tugging at the leash, because she’d spotted Murphy standing in the doorway at Anna’s.

“How’d she do last night?” Murphy asked, scratching the dog’s head.

“She was perfect. Slept on a pillow in the living room. I slept on a pull-out bed in the studio. Best night of sleep I’ve had since I got here.”

“How’s the old man feeling?”

“A little better. He’s still asleep.”