I left the fridge with all the beer still safe inside, went back to the phone, and called Mattie.
‘Hi,’ said another obviously recorded voice. I was on a roll. ‘It’s me, but either I’m out or not able to come to the phone right this minute. Leave a message, okay?’ A pause, the mike rustling, a distant whisper, and then Kyra, so loud she almost blew my ear off: ‘Leave a HAPPY message!’ What followed was laughter from both of them, cut off by the beep.
‘Hi, Mattie, it’s Mike Noonan,’ I said. ‘I just wanted — ‘
I don’t know how I would have finished that thought, and I didn’t have to. There was a click and then Mattie herself said, ‘Hello, Mike.’ There was such a difference between this dreary, defeated-sounding voice and the cheerful one on the tape that for a moment I was silenced. Then I asked her what was wrong.
‘Nothing,’ she said, then began to cry. ‘Everything. I lost my job. Lindy fired me.’
Firing wasn’t what Lindy had called it, of course. She’d called it ‘belt-tightening,’ but it was firing, all right, and I knew that if I looked into the funding of the Four Lakes Consolidated Library, I would discover that one of the chief supporters over the years had been Mr. Max Devore. And he’d continue to be one of the chief supporters . . . if, that was, Lindy Briggs played ball.
‘We shouldn’t have talked where she could see us doing it,’ I said, knowing I could have stayed away from the library completely and Mattie would be just as gone. ‘And we probably should have seen this coming.’
‘John Storrow did see it.’ She was still crying, but making an effort to get it under control. ‘He said Max Devore would probably want to make sure I was as deep in the corner as he could push me, come the custody hearing. He said Devore would want to make sure I answered “I’m unemployed, Your Honor” when the judge asked where I worked. I told John Mrs. Briggs would never do anything so low, especially to a girl who’d given such a brilliant talk on Melville’s
“Bartleby.” Do you know what he told me?’
‘No.’
‘He said, “You’re very young.” I thought that was a patronizing thing to say, but he was right, wasn’t he?’
‘Mattie — ‘
‘What am I going to do, Mike? What am I going to do?’ The panic-rat had moved on down to Wasp Hill Road, it sounded like.
I thought, quite coldly: Why not become my mistress? Your title will be ‘research assistant,’ a perfectly jake occupation as far as the IRS is concerned, I’ll throw in clothes, a couple of charge cards, a house — say goodbye to the rustbucket doublewide on Wasp Hill Road — and a two-week vacation: how does February on Maui sound? Plus Ki’s education, of course, and a hefty cash bonus at the end of the year. I’ll be considerate, too. Considerate and discreet. Once or twice a week, and never until your little girl is fast asleep. All you have to do is say yes and give me a key.
All you have to do is slide over when I slide in. All you have to do is let me do what I want — all through the dark, all through the night, let me touch where I want to touch, let me do what I want to do, never say no, never say stop.
I closed my eyes. ‘Mike? Are you there?’
‘Sure,’ I said. I touched the throbbing gash at the back of my head and winced. ‘You’re going to do just fine, Mattie. You — ‘
‘The trailer’s not paid for!’ she nearly wailed. ‘I have two overdue phone bills and they’re threatening to cut off the service! There’s something wrong with the Jeep’s transmission, and the rear axle, as well! I can pay for Ki’s last week of Vacation Bible School, I guess — Mrs. Briggs
gave me three weeks’ pay in lieu of notice — but how will I buy her shoes? She outgrows everything so fast . . . there’s holes in all her shorts and most of her g-g-goddam underwear . . . ‘
She was starting to weep again.
‘I’m going to take care of you until you get back on your feet,’ I said.
‘No, I can’t let — ‘
‘You can. And for Kyra’s sake, you will. Later on, if you still want to, you can pay me back.
We’ll keep tabs on every dollar and dime, if you like. But I’m going to take care of you.’ And you’ll never take off your clothes when I’m with you. That’s a promise, and I’m going to keep it.
‘Mike, you don’t have to do this.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. But I am going to do it. You just try and stop me.’ I’d called meaning to tell her what had happened to me — giving her the humorous version — but that now seemed like the worst idea in the world. ‘This custody thing is going to be over before you know it, and if you can’t find anyone brave enough to put you to work down here once it is, I’ll find someone up in Derry who’ll do it. Besides, tell me the truth — aren’t you starting to feel that it might be time for a change of scenery?’
She managed a scrap of a laugh. ‘I guess you could say that.’
‘Heard from John today?’
‘Actually, yes. He’s visiting his parents in Philadelphia but he gave me the number there. I called him.’
He’d said he was taken with her. Perhaps she was taken with him, as well. I told myself the thorny little tug I felt across my emotions at the idea was only my imagination. Tried to tell myself that, anyway. ‘What did he say about you losing your job the way you did?’
‘The same things you said. But he didn’t make me feel safe. You do. I don’t know why.’ I did. I was an older man, and that is our chief attraction to young women: we make them feel safe. ‘He’s coming up again Tuesday morning. I said I’d have lunch with him.’
Smoothly, not a tremor or hesitation in my voice, I said: ‘Maybe I could join you.’
Mattie’s own voice warmed at the suggestion; her ready acceptance made me feel paradoxically guilty. ‘That would be great! Why don’t I call him and suggest that you both come over here? I could barbecue again. Maybe I’ll keep Ki home from VBS and make it a foursome. She’s hoping you’ll read her another story. She really enjoyed that.’
‘That sounds great,’ I said, and meant it. Adding Kyra made it all seem more natural, less of an intrusion on my part. Also less like a date on theirs. John could not be accused of taking an unethical interest in his client. In the end he’d probably thank me. ‘I believe Ki might be ready to move on to “Hansel and Gretel.” How are you, Mattie? All right?’
‘Much better than I was before you called.’
‘Good. Things are going to be all right.’
‘Promise me.’
‘I think I just did.’
There was a slight pause. ‘Are you all right, Mike? You sound a little . . . I don’t know . . . a little strange.’
‘I’m okay,’ I said, and I was, for someone who had been pretty sure he was drowning less than an hour ago. ‘Can I ask you one question before I go? Because this is driving me crazy.’
‘Of course.’
‘The night we had dinner, you said Devore told you his great-grandfather and mine knew each other. Pretty well, according to him.’
‘He said they shit in the same pit. I thought that was elegant.’
‘Did he say anything else? Think hard.’
She did, but came up with nothing. I told her to call me if something about that conversation did occur to her, or if she got lonely or scared, or if she started to feel worried about anything. I didn’t like to say too much, but I had already decided I’d have to have a frank talk with John about my latest adventure. It might be prudent to have the private detective from Lewiston George Kennedy, like the actor — put a man or two on the TR to keep an eye on Mattie and Kyra. Max Devore was mad, just as my caretaker had said. I hadn’t understood then, but I did now. Any time I started to doubt, all I had to do was touch the back of my head.
I returned to the fridge and once more forgot to open it. My hands went to the magnets instead and again began moving them around, watching as words formed, broke apart, evolved. It was a peculiar kind of writing . . . but it was writing. I could tell by the way I was starting to trance out.