Was that a crime?
He stared at Sophie now, his mind still traveling through some alternate universe where he hadn’t let her go.
Sophie put her hands on her hips. “I got something stuck in my teeth, Philip?”
He shook his head.
“Then why are you staring?”
“No reason,” he said. Then he added, “You look good, Sophie.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on in, Silver-Tongue. Your charm is making me woozy.”
Philip stepped inside. Little if anything had changed. He could feel the ghosts surround him.
“He’s resting,” Sophie said, heading down the corridor. Philip followed. “He should be awake soon. Want some coffee?”
“Sure.”
They reached the kitchen. It had been updated. Sophie used one of those new coffee pod machines everyone seems to have. She handed him the thick mug, not asking how he took it. She knew.
“So why are you here, Philip?”
He forced up a smile over the brim of the mug. “What, can’t a man visit an old friend and his beautiful sister?”
“Remember what I said about your charm making me woozy?”
“I do.”
“I was joking.”
“Yeah, I figured.” He put down the mug. “I need to talk to him, Sophie.”
“This about David?”
“It is.”
“He’s sick, you know. Lenny, I mean.”
“I know.”
“Almost completely paralyzed. He can’t talk anymore. I don’t even know if he knows who I am.”
“I’m sorry, Sophie.”
“Is this going to upset him?”
Philip thought about that. “I don’t know.”
“Not sure I see the need.”
“There probably isn’t one.”
“But this is what you two do,” Sophie said.
“Yes.”
Sophie turned her head toward the window. “Lenny wouldn’t want to be spared. So go ahead. You know the way.”
He put down the mug and rose. Philip wanted to say something, but no words came to him. She didn’t look at him as he left the kitchen. He made the right and headed toward the bedroom in the back. The grandfather clock still stood in the hallway. Maddy had bought it at an estate sale in Everett a hundred years ago. Lenny and Philip had picked it up in Philip’s old pickup truck. The thing weighed over two hundred pounds. It took them forever to disassemble it and move it. They had to wrap the pendulum and the main spring and the cable and the chains and the weights and the chime rods and Lord knows what else in heavy blankets and bubble wrap. They used masking tape to affix cardboard over the beveled glass door and then something still chipped off the toe molding. But Maddy loved it and Lenny would do anything for her and hey, when you add up the pros and cons, there was no doubt Philip got the better end of the deal on the friendship. Not that either would ever keep track.
Philip stopped when he reached the bedroom. He took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. When he entered, he fought hard to keep that smile locked in place and hoped his eyes didn’t betray the sadness and shock. For a moment he stayed near the doorway and just stared at what had been his best friend. He remembered how powerful Lenny had been. Lenny had been all coiled muscle, built like a bantamweight fighter. He had been a health nut before it was in fashion, a careful eater in the days before that became so mainstream. Lenny did a hundred push-ups every morning. Exactly. Without break. His forearms had been steel cords, his veins thick and ropey. Now those powerful arms looked like milky reeds. Lenny’s filmy eyes had the thousand-yard stare of the guys who had seen too much action in Nam. His lips were colorless. His skin resembled parchment paper.
“Lenny,” Philip said.
No reaction. Philip forced himself to take a step closer to the bed. “Lenny, what the hell is going on with our Celtics? Huh? What happened to them?”
Still nothing.
“And the Pats. I mean, they were so good for so long so we can’t complain, but come on.” Philip smiled and inched closer. “Hey, remember when we met Yaz after that Orioles game? That was something. Such a good guy. But you said it early on. Free agency. It’s going to kill the teams, just like you predicted.”
Nothing.
From the doorway behind, he heard Sophie’s voice. “Sit next to him and take his hand. Sometimes he’ll squeeze it.”
She left them alone. Philip took the seat next to Lenny. He didn’t take his hand. That’s not what they were about. All that touchy-feely stuff. Maybe David and Adam were into that, but not him and Lenny. Philip had never told Lenny he loved him. And vice versa. They didn’t have to. And despite what David had said, Lenny had never told him that Philip owed him one. That wasn’t their way.
“I got to talk to you, Lenny.”
Philip dove in. He told Lenny about David’s visit to his office. The whole story. Everything he could remember. Lenny, of course, did not respond. His eyes kept that same stare. His expression may have grown grimmer, but Philip chalked that up to his own imagination. It was like talking to a bed frame. After some time passed—when Philip was getting closer to the end of the story—he did indeed slide his hand over his old friend’s. The hand didn’t feel like a hand either. It felt like some distant inanimate object, a frail object, like a dead baby bird or something.
“Not sure what to do here,” Philip said, as he started to wind down. “It’s why I came to you. We’ve both seen perps try every which way to claim innocence or justify what they did. Hell, we spent our careers listening to that psychobabble. That’s not what this is. I truly believe that. Your son wouldn’t do that. David believes it. He’s wrong, of course. I wish it was true—God, do I wish it—but Matthew is dead. David did it in some kind of fugue state. That’s what I think. You and I talked about this already. He doesn’t remember and hell, I don’t know about guilt or blame. Neither of us were big fans of insanity defenses, but we also both know David is a good kid. Always has been.”
He looked at Lenny. Still nothing. Only the rising and falling of his chest told Philip that he wasn’t talking to a corpse.
“Here’s the thing.” Philip leaned a little closer and, for some reason, lowered his voice. “David wants me to help him break out. I mean, that’s nuts. You know that. I know that. I don’t have that kind of power. And even if I did, I mean, where would he go? There’d be a massive manhunt. He’d probably end up being gunned down. We don’t want that for him. I still wish he’d tried to get help, maybe a new trial, something. That’s his best chance, you know what I mean?”
A radiator pipe started banging. Philip shook his head and smiled. That damn pipe. It had been banging for, what, forty, fifty years? He remembered trying to bleed the radiators with Lenny, but they could never figure out what caused the banging. Trapped air or something. They’d go down and fix it and it would be okay for a few weeks and then—bang, bang—it would come back.
“We’re old men, Lenny. Too old for this crap. I’m retiring in another year. Double pension. I could lose it all if I mess up. You know what I’m saying? I can’t risk that. It wouldn’t be fair to Ruth. She’s got her sights set on some gated community in South Carolina. Nice weather year-round. But you know I’ll always look out for David. No matter what. Like I promised. He’s your boy. I understand that. So I want you to know. I’ll look out for him…”